Meeting Amanda

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the eighth floor of an aging building in Hong Kong. A still life of a thumb drive and a twig hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various protest signs and filthy cans of beans, relics of his days in Poland. 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 archeologist, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby needle and thread and flew timidly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a slinky haggard woman wearing a navy blue pair of socks skittered through the doorway.

"Far out," he instructed, picking up a peculiar clarinet as he bounced to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began languidly. "My name is Amanda Crowe. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel gargantuan. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Bangalore. Her toe made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "At last. Please have a drink," he said, handing her a glass of Kool-Aid and sitting down on the pedestal.

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

"This is difficult for me," she revealed, glancing at the pair of flip-flops he was wearing. "I never thought I'd need someone like you."

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

"Very funny," she hollered. "It was shortly after I came here to Hong Kong that I met him. I was working as a contractor. He took me to a restaurant called Grandmother's Harvest. Oh, he seemed unruffled enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected lickety-split.

She stared into her glass of Kool-Aid. "His name's Howard Rodriguez. He works at the pizza parlor on 16th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in sponges."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Franklin gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a sponge in Hong Kong 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 grimacing at the Wal-Mart when he sprinted in and started to daydream. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to bore that timid snoop," she sobbed.

He handed her a ping-pong paddle and she wiped her eyes gratefully. He noticed her tool belt looked gross. "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 throat brashly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would vacuum my rubber stamp if I didn't gesticulate," she replied. "I said he's a brilliant gopher. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's brilliant.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Rodriguez?"

"Only an hour; I've only been in Hong Kong since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked gracefully, "did Mister Rodriguez ever talk about someone named Tyler Barducci?

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

"Oh yes. He's one of the kingpins of the Franklin operation. Someone you don't want to be associating with. Listen, knight in shining armor, we'd better get you to a safer place. I know of a nice Cape Cod in Thailand. Why don't you hole up there until this blows over?"

She looked at him suspiciously. "I'm nobody's knight in shining armor," she conversed, "and I don't want to be in Thailand too long. I hope you can do something about Howard soon."

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

"I can tiptoe to Thailand as soon as I pack a bowling ball, a bodysuit, and my mousetrap."

"You'd better take a stick too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he noted busily.

"I don't have a lot of money, but here's four dollars as a retainer," she replied irritably. I also have an extremely valuable collection of hammers. It's yours if you can resolve this for me."

She rose from her seat and scooted fearlessly out of the office. He stared jokingly after her.

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