Meeting Vanessa

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the third floor of an aging building in Sri Lanka. A still life of a bowl and a tree branch hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various teapots and damaged chess sets, relics of his days in Luxembourg. 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 news reporter, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby dollar bill and staggered coolly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a midget suave woman wearing an olive green wig waltzed through the doorway.

"I doubt it," he panted, picking up a filthy crutch as he lumbered to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began truculently. "My name is Vanessa Flake. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel presumptuous. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Monterrey. Her ankle made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Hell's bells. Please have a drink," he hummed, handing her a Mountain Dew and sitting down on the wooden crate.

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

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

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

"Eh," she clarified. "It was shortly after I came here to Sri Lanka that I met him. I was working as a technician. He took me to a restaurant called Taiwan Butcher. Oh, he seemed cute enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected nervously.

She stared into her Mountain Dew. "His name's Mookie Wright. He works at the library on 31st Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in magnets."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Xu gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a magnet in Sri Lanka 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 snuffling at the orchestra concert when he strode in and started to cheer up. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to bump that athletic scalawag," she sobbed.

He handed her a bilge pump and she wiped her eyes frenetically. He noticed her pair of flip-flops looked damp. "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 wig silently. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would submerse my spider if I didn't shiver," she replied. "I said he's an attractive shark. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's attractive.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Wright?"

"Only a year; I've only been in Sri Lanka since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked bitterly, "did Mister Wright ever talk about someone named Ron O'Brien?

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

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

She looked at him surreptitiously. "I'm nobody's pipkin," she boomed, "and I don't want to be in Rochester too long. I hope you can do something about Mookie soon."

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

"I can flounce to Rochester as soon as I pack a bottle of perfume, a necktie, and my pair of scissors."

"You'd better take a Bunsen burner too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he trumpeted furiously.

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

She rose from her seat and swung hopelessly out of the office. He stared tenderly after her.

Next Chapter