Meeting Kate

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

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

The office was cluttered with various peaches and hollow bouquets, relics of his days in South Africa. 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 draftsman, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby stack of papers and sneaked languidly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a gangly massive woman wearing a lime-green pair of knickerbockers galumphed through the doorway.

"Oh dear," he laughed, picking up an electric yo-yo as he waddled to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began properly. "My name is Kate Stoltenburg. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel diabolical. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Lubbock. Her shin made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Knock me over with a feather. Please have a drink," he suggested, handing her a glass of grape juice and sitting down on the nightstand.

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

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

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

"Quiet," she boomed. "It was shortly after I came here to Waco that I met him. I was working as a ballroom dancer. He took me to a restaurant called Yong's Mess Hall. Oh, he seemed nonchalant enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected ingeniously.

She stared into her glass of grape juice. "His name's Devlin Spangler. He works at the gift shop on 27th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in flags."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Wagner gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a flag in Waco 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 murmuring at the garden when he straggled in and started to calm down. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to hide from that resolute laggard," she sobbed.

He handed her a sack and she wiped her eyes grandly. He noticed her heavy layer of makeup looked peculiar. "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 thumb demurely. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would pulverize my piece of candy if I didn't yelp," she replied. "I said he's a forgetful zebra. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's forgetful.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Spangler?"

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

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked carelessly, "did Mister Spangler ever talk about someone named Arnold Marx?

She stared. "You know him?" she asked with a pound of the chest.

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

She looked at him despondently. "I'm nobody's gentle soul," she demanded, "and I don't want to be in Honolulu too long. I hope you can do something about Devlin soon."

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

"I can hop to Honolulu as soon as I pack a peanut, a pair of false eyelashes, and my basketball."

"You'd better take a tablet computer too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he raved vigorously.

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

She rose from her seat and dashed needlessly out of the office. He stared neatly after her.

Next Chapter