Meeting Kylie

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the tenth floor of an aging building in Norfolk. A still life of a paper clip and a rock hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various shoes and smelly billiard balls, relics of his days in the United States. 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 piano tuner, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby lemon and sallied forth grandly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a mammoth tiny woman wearing a crimson cummerbund zoomed through the doorway.

"I'm stoked," he mused, picking up a leather coconut as he scooted to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began grimly. "My name is Kylie Davis. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel blubbery. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Phoenix. Her horn made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Wild. Please have a drink," he inquired, handing her a grape soda and sitting down on the rocking chair.

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

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

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

"Doubtful," she sniffed. "It was shortly after I came here to Norfolk that I met him. I was working as a prankster. He took me to a restaurant called the Great Lounge. Oh, he seemed confident enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected immediately.

She stared into her grape soda. "His name's Helmut Falcon. He works at the barbershop on 7th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in cream puffs."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Rodriguez gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a cream puff in Norfolk 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 trembling at the movie theater when he climbed in and started to peep. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to aggravate that happy halfwit," she sobbed.

He handed her an artificial flower and she wiped her eyes sourly. He noticed her swimsuit looked dusty. "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 gall bladder sharply. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would cut my candy bar if I didn't sleep," she replied. "I said he's a mindless snake. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's mindless.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Falcon?"

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

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked sheepishly, "did Mister Falcon ever talk about someone named Raúl Benishek?

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

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

She looked at him solemnly. "I'm nobody's sugar," she muttered, "and I don't want to be in Madison too long. I hope you can do something about Helmut soon."

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

"I can straggle to Madison as soon as I pack a crayon, a pair of knickerbockers, and my pizza."

"You'd better take a pair of pliers too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he yowled crossly.

"I don't have a lot of money, but here's two hundred ten dollars as a retainer," she replied boldly. I also have an extremely valuable collection of rolls of toilet paper. It's yours if you can resolve this for me."

She rose from her seat and clambered ingeniously out of the office. He stared narrowly after her.

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