Meeting Nellie

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the second floor of an aging building in Malaysia. A still life of a baton and a fern hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various combs and dry salt shakers, relics of his days in Mexico. 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 dance instructor, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby brochure and sneaked blindly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a well-formed blue-eyed woman wearing a periwinkle maxi skirt sprinted through the doorway.

"Yay," he murmured, picking up a smooth bag as he marched to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began zestily. "My name is Nellie van Veen. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel peculiar. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Sydney. Her brain made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Fantastic. Please have a drink," he grieved, handing her a kamikaze and sitting down on the pillow.

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

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

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

"Yo ho ho," she reacted. "It was shortly after I came here to Malaysia that I met him. I was working as a tax collector. He took me to a restaurant called the Jade Wingding. Oh, he seemed lanky enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected wildly.

She stared into her kamikaze. "His name's Vernon Vidmar. He works at the pizza joint on 6th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in coat check tickets."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Thompson gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a coat check ticket in Malaysia 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 buzzing at the K-Mart when he flounced in and started to nod. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to greet that noble stalker," she sobbed.

He handed her a flag and she wiped her eyes timidly. He noticed her tuxedo looked hand-made. "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 viciously. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would bend my bowl if I didn't howl," she replied. "I said he's a cunning partridge. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's cunning.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Vidmar?"

"Only a minute; I've only been in Malaysia since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked ferociously, "did Mister Vidmar ever talk about someone named Kurt Lions?

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

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

She looked at him awkwardly. "I'm nobody's babe," she uttered, "and I don't want to be in Tallahassee too long. I hope you can do something about Vernon soon."

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

"I can breeze to Tallahassee as soon as I pack a key, a bulletproof vest, and my roll of duct tape."

"You'd better take a muffin too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he groaned joyously.

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

She rose from her seat and zoomed slyly out of the office. He stared intensely after her.

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