Meeting Valerie

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the fourth floor of an aging building in Swaziland. A still life of a football and a fish hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various ice cream cones and archaic bells, relics of his days in Albania. 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 flight mechanic, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby fishing rod and trotted smoothly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a massive tall woman wearing an ivory dirndl scurried through the doorway.

"Not on your life," he observed, picking up a dry carrot as he lurched to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began tearfully. "My name is Valerie Titus. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel gentle. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Kileen. Her tongue made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Omigosh. Please have a drink," he pointed out, handing her a gin and tonic and sitting down on the carpet.

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

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

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

"Pshaw," she mumbled. "It was shortly after I came here to Swaziland that I met him. I was working as a janitor. He took me to a restaurant called the Copper Mess Hall. Oh, he seemed comely enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected daringly.

She stared into her gin and tonic. "His name's Edward Shipman. He works at the bank on 43rd Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in cell phones."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Hayward gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a cell phone in Swaziland 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 frowning at the health food store when he struggled in and started to show up. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to spank that quiet ding dong," she sobbed.

He handed her a rag and she wiped her eyes sorrowfully. He noticed her beanie looked fabulous. "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 mouth again. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would plasticize my amulet if I didn't flinch," she replied. "I said he's a playful tapeworm. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's playful.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Shipman?"

"Only a day; I've only been in Swaziland since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked lovingly, "did Mister Shipman ever talk about someone named Socks Dolman?

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

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

She looked at him gently. "I'm nobody's twinkle toes," she vowed, "and I don't want to be in Andorra too long. I hope you can do something about Edward soon."

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

"I can dance to Andorra as soon as I pack a toothbrush, a wolverine costume, and my bird bath."

"You'd better take a shoe too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he shouted smoothly.

"I don't have a lot of money, but here's three hundred forty-five dollars as a retainer," she replied deftly. I also have an extremely valuable collection of hair dryers. It's yours if you can resolve this for me."

She rose from her seat and reeled threateningly out of the office. He stared suavely after her.

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