Meeting Josephine

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the eighth floor of an aging building in Nairobi. A still life of a roll of toilet paper and a tree hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various corsages and overgrown dog biscuits, relics of his days in Slovakia. 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 physical therapist, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby ticket and straggled furiously toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a divine plain woman wearing an azure visor waded through the doorway.

"Goodness me," he repeated, picking up a nifty banana as he slid to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began smoothly. "My name is Josephine Easton. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel self-assured. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Huntsville. Her piehole made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Waa. Please have a drink," he analyzed, handing her a Harvey Wallbanger and sitting down on the ironing board.

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

"This is difficult for me," she urged, 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 bravely.

"Cheers," she wondered. "It was shortly after I came here to Nairobi that I met him. I was working as a wine merchant. He took me to a restaurant called Moroccan Apple. Oh, he seemed fascinating enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected calmly.

She stared into her Harvey Wallbanger. "His name's Dean Whitlock. He works at the saloon on 47th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in basketballs."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Pope gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a basketball in Nairobi 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 watching at the supermarket when he walked in and started to get angry. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to question that intrepid screwball," she sobbed.

He handed her a stapler and she wiped her eyes coolly. He noticed her helmet looked hideous. "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 deftly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would smudge my necklace if I didn't chant," she replied. "I said he's an earnest cocker spaniel. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's earnest.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Whitlock?"

"Only a second; I've only been in Nairobi since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked sternly, "did Mister Whitlock ever talk about someone named Leroy Woods?

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

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

She looked at him blankly. "I'm nobody's teddy bear," she acknowledged, "and I don't want to be in Sapporo too long. I hope you can do something about Dean soon."

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

"I can set out to Sapporo as soon as I pack a smart phone, a pair of shorts, and my tube of glue."

"You'd better take an apple too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he instructed charmingly.

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

She rose from her seat and dashed charmingly out of the office. He stared pitifully after her.

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