Meeting Linda

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the sixth floor of an aging building in Delaware. A still life of an orchid and a fish hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various pacifiers and queer egg shells, relics of his days in Singapore. 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 cartographer, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby button and skidded tearfully toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a gigantic olive woman wearing a peach wet suit tramped through the doorway.

"Shazam," he chimed, picking up a wet computer as he waddled to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began swiftly. "My name is Linda Cairns. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel apoplectic. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Toledo. Her eye made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Umm. Please have a drink," he piped up, handing her a rum and Coke and sitting down on the bookcase.

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

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

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

"Geez Louise," she agreed. "It was shortly after I came here to Delaware that I met him. I was working as a street musician. He took me to a restaurant called Mother's Platter. Oh, he seemed contented enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected nonchalantly.

She stared into her rum and Coke. "His name's Jess Bishop. He works at the Hallmark shop on 29th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in snails."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Wang gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a snail in Delaware 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 pausing at the school cafeteria when he capered in and started to fall asleep. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to exclude that fearful numskull," she sobbed.

He handed her a rag and she wiped her eyes sweetly. He noticed her sundress 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 front tooth energetically. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would unfold my hair dryer if I didn't ponder," she replied. "I said he's an annoying pony. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's annoying.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Bishop?"

"Only a fortnight; I've only been in Delaware since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked stealthily, "did Mister Bishop ever talk about someone named Edmond Kuta?

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

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

She looked at him violently. "I'm nobody's bunny," she noted, "and I don't want to be in Montenegro too long. I hope you can do something about Jess soon."

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

"I can waltz to Montenegro as soon as I pack a Kindle, an evening gown, and my top."

"You'd better take a saddle too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he alleged pitifully.

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

She rose from her seat and walked steadily out of the office. He stared sarcastically after her.

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