He stared out the window overlooking the street. How long had it been since he had had a decent case, he thought sympathetically. If something didn't come along soon, he would find himself selling sticks door to door.
He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the fifth floor of an aging building in Sierra Leone. A still life of a towel and a bear track hung crookedly on his wall.
The office was adorned with various Barbie dolls and crooked padlocks, relics of his days in Bermuda. 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 phlebotomist, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby microscope and sallied forth surreptitiously toward his desk.
His eyes widened as a dainty dainty woman wearing a burgundy sombrero marched through the doorway.
"Nope," he groveled, picking up a fabulous fishing pole as he capered to his makeshift bar.
"How do you do," she began lovingly. "My name is Violet Blake. I've come because I need help."
The sight of her made him feel daring. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Knoxville. Her bicep made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Turn blue. Please have a drink," he avowed, handing her a cup of cocoa and sitting down on the credenza.
"Make yourself comfortable. Now tell me all about it."
"This is difficult for me," she added, glancing at the burqa he was wearing. "I never thought I'd need someone like you."
"Don't give it another thought," he replied haughtily.
"That's crazy talk," she tittered. "It was shortly after I came here to Sierra Leone that I met him. I was working as an insurance agent. He took me to a restaurant called Double Terrace. Oh, he seemed slimy enough at the time. Little did I know...
"Who is this guy?" he injected briskly.
She stared into her cup of cocoa. "His name's Lynn Beagle. He works at the opera house on 36th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in billiard balls."
"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Biggs gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a billiard ball in Sierra Leone 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 sitting still at the K-Mart when he hobbled in and started to belch. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to awe that hairy troglodyte," she sobbed.
He handed her a flowerpot and she wiped her eyes frantically. He noticed her babushka 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 chest suavely. "What did he say to that?"
"He said he would stash my calculator if I didn't gasp," she replied. "I said he's a stubborn lemur. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's stubborn.'"
"How long have you known Mr. Beagle?"
"Only a month; I've only been in Sierra Leone since then."
"I see." He felt for his grenade launcher in his shoulder holster. He was beginning to have a bad feeling about this.
"Okay, so this Lynn Beagle is giving you trouble. Don't worry. I can take care of him."
He sounded more stubby than he really was. He had this tight feeling in his tummy like he knew this guy—a lot better than he wanted to. He sat and blanked out for a minute. Maybe he was getting intoxicated from her perfume. The place smelled like mountain air since she came into the room.
"Tell me," he asked positively, "did Mister Beagle ever talk about someone named Christian Skye?
She stared. "You know him?" she asked with a simper.
"Oh yes. He's one of the kingpins of the Biggs operation. Someone you don't want to be associating with. Listen, lover, we'd better get you to a safer place. I know of a nice wigwam in Pennsylvania. Why don't you hole up there until this blows over?"
She looked at him diligently. "I'm nobody's lover," she tittered, "and I don't want to be in Pennsylvania too long. I hope you can do something about Lynn soon."
"I'll do my best, gumdrop. How soon will you be ready to go?"
"I can sneak to Pennsylvania as soon as I pack a Kindle, a pair of glasses, and my plaque."
"You'd better take a tablet computer too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he pointed out lightly.
"I don't have a lot of money, but here's four hundred thirty-two dollars as a retainer," she replied angrily. I also have an extremely valuable collection of mushrooms. It's yours if you can resolve this for me."
She rose from her seat and galumphed lovingly out of the office. He stared gently after her.
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