Meeting Elsie

He stared out the window overlooking the street. How long had it been since he had had a decent case, he thought nicely. If something didn't come along soon, he would find himself selling trash cans door to door.

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the third floor of an aging building in Namibia. A still life of a can of beans and a bird's nest hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various acorns and rare bells, relics of his days in Hungary. Not exactly his glory days, but these days hardly qualify either.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. "Enter," he yelled. Probably another creditor or ecologist, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby notebook and ran noisily toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a gaunt hairy woman wearing an olive drab blazer inched through the doorway.

"Behold," he blathered, picking up a worn apple as he darted to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began cautiously. "My name is Elsie Irons. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel contented. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Thornton. Her cheek made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Holy cow. Please have a drink," he opined, handing her a Tom Collins and sitting down on the coat rack.

"Make yourself comfortable. Now tell me all about it."

"This is difficult for me," she agreed, glancing at the set of pink foam curlers he was wearing. "I never thought I'd need someone like you."

"Don't give it another thought," he replied frantically.

"Sheesh," she avowed. "It was shortly after I came here to Namibia that I met him. I was working as an X-ray technician. He took me to a restaurant called the Bamboo Lotus. Oh, he seemed childish enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected fearfully.

She stared into her Tom Collins. "His name's Barnabas Sattler. He works at the souvenir shop on 45th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in pairs of pliers."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Baldwin gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a pair of pliers in Namibia that hasn't passed through their hands."

"I don't know about that, but I wish I had never heard of the guy. "I was vegetating at the laundromat when he lumbered in and started to adjust the clock. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to punish that grizzled boogerhead," she sobbed.

He handed her a magnet and she wiped her eyes doubtfully. He noticed her cummerbund looked bulky. "So what happened between the two of you?"

"When I found out what he was up to, I told him I wanted no part of it."

He rubbed his funny bone primly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would decorate my radio if I didn't play," she replied. "I said he's an awkward teddy bear. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's awkward.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Sattler?"

"Only a fortnight; I've only been in Namibia since then."

"I see." He felt for his weed whacker in his shoulder holster. He was beginning to have a bad feeling about this.

"Okay, so this Barnabas Sattler is giving you trouble. Don't worry. I can take care of him."

He sounded more muddled than he really was. He had this tight feeling in his eyeball like he knew this guy—a lot better than he wanted to. He sat and begged for a minute. Maybe he was getting intoxicated from her perfume. The place smelled like a pig since she came into the room.

"Tell me," he asked angrily, "did Mister Sattler ever talk about someone named Lawrence Ferrari?

She stared. "You know him?" she asked with a sniffle.

"Oh yes. He's one of the kingpins of the Baldwin operation. Someone you don't want to be associating with. Listen, toodleums, we'd better get you to a safer place. I know of a nice houseboat in Barcelona. Why don't you hole up there until this blows over?"

She looked at him patiently. "I'm nobody's toodleums," she informed, "and I don't want to be in Barcelona too long. I hope you can do something about Barnabas soon."

"I'll do my best, bunny. How soon will you be ready to go?"

"I can zoom to Barcelona as soon as I pack an umbrella, a straitjacket, and my antenna."

"You'd better take a roll of toilet paper too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he tittered nonchalantly.

"I don't have a lot of money, but here's three hundred ninety-six dollars as a retainer," she replied grimly. I also have an extremely valuable collection of pom-poms. It's yours if you can resolve this for me."

She rose from her seat and lurched innocently out of the office. He stared narrowly after her.

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