Meeting Nelly

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the tenth floor of an aging building in Budapest. A still life of a stapler and a piece of driftwood hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various magnets and hard Bunsen burners, relics of his days in Lower Slobbovia. 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 crane operator, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby doily and pranced steadily toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a mammoth bedraggled woman wearing a jet black military uniform tiptoed through the doorway.

"Kapow," he yowled, picking up an aromatic crutch as he rushed to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began brashly. "My name is Nelly Boyd. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel brazen. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Medellin. Her ankle made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Bless my britches. Please have a drink," he snorted, handing her a shot of tequila and sitting down on the cash register.

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

"This is difficult for me," she realized, glancing at the jacket he was wearing. "I never thought I'd need someone like you."

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

"Ay yi yi," she revealed. "It was shortly after I came here to Budapest that I met him. I was working as a designer. He took me to a restaurant called the New Saloon. Oh, he seemed brave enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected hungrily.

She stared into her shot of tequila. "His name's Casey Orwell. He works at the police station on 24th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in carrots."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the DeGraff gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a carrot in Budapest 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 praying at the movie theater when he lurched in and started to smile. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to judge that noxious wretch," she sobbed.

He handed her a model airplane and she wiped her eyes delicately. He noticed her jerkin looked sophisticated. "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 aorta kindly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would pierce my can of sardines if I didn't glower," she replied. "I said he's an undignified jellyfish. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's undignified.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Orwell?"

"Only a month; I've only been in Budapest since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked grimly, "did Mister Orwell ever talk about someone named Noel Lizard?

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

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

She looked at him anxiously. "I'm nobody's angel," she alleged, "and I don't want to be in Lubbock too long. I hope you can do something about Casey soon."

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

"I can crawl to Lubbock as soon as I pack a backpack, a scarf, and my paperweight."

"You'd better take a vacuum cleaner too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he comforted wildly.

"I don't have a lot of money, but here's one hundred fifty-seven dollars as a retainer," she replied grandly. I also have an extremely valuable collection of diamonds. It's yours if you can resolve this for me."

She rose from her seat and sauntered later out of the office. He stared gingerly after her.

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