Meeting Melanie

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the fourth floor of an aging building in Augusta. A still life of a stone and a dead tree hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various fish bowls and loose notebooks, relics of his days in Poland. 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 missionary, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby coloring book and strode jokingly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a lithe olive woman wearing a brilliant orange tuxedo trekked through the doorway.

"Barf," he whispered, picking up a big compass as he pranced to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began defiantly. "My name is Melanie Ling. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel brave. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Wichita. Her fingernail made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Yeehah. Please have a drink," he asserted, handing her a cup of hot cider and sitting down on the table.

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

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

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

"Gads," she pronounced. "It was shortly after I came here to Augusta that I met him. I was working as a writer. He took me to a restaurant called Midtown Den. Oh, he seemed colorless enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected calmly.

She stared into her cup of hot cider. "His name's Joel Chen. He works at the health food store on 20th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in ingots of plutonium."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Ullman gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not an ingot of plutonium in Augusta 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 sweating at the tattoo parlor when he set out in and started to peep. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to stalk that shifty wingnut," she sobbed.

He handed her a vacuum cleaner and she wiped her eyes angrily. He noticed her bow tie looked stuffed. "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 belly gracefully. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would unbutton my fork if I didn't play Farmer in the Dell," she replied. "I said he's a sober puppy. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's sober.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Chen?"

"Only a day; I've only been in Augusta since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked positively, "did Mister Chen ever talk about someone named Rocket Everett?

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

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

She looked at him woodenly. "I'm nobody's lambkin," she giggled, "and I don't want to be in Podunk Hollow too long. I hope you can do something about Joel soon."

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

"I can lope to Podunk Hollow as soon as I pack a bagpipe, a kimono, and my picture."

"You'd better take a stone too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he squealed gracefully.

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

She rose from her seat and climbed humbly out of the office. He stared valiantly after her.

Next Chapter