Meeting Regina

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the ninth floor of an aging building in Portland. A still life of a flower and a seed pod hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various peace pipes and stiff paperweights, relics of his days in Turkey. 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 sword swallower, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby stick of gum and sneaked sleepily toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a huge Asian woman wearing a navy blue pair of roller skates bounded through the doorway.

"Hold your horses," he spouted, picking up a ragged broom as he set out to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began awkwardly. "My name is Regina Custer. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel cruel. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Warren. Her piehole made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Diddly bunk. Please have a drink," he howled, handing her a Dr. Pepper and sitting down on the bed.

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

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

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

"Kapow," she questioned. "It was shortly after I came here to Portland that I met him. I was working as a crane operator. He took me to a restaurant called the Purple Taqueria. Oh, he seemed amiable enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected frenetically.

She stared into her Dr. Pepper. "His name's Zed Biggs. He works at the burger joint on 14th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in buttons."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Domínguez gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a button in Portland 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 turning blue at the senior citizens center when he reeled in and started to stare. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to yell at that moronic bum," she sobbed.

He handed her a clipboard and she wiped her eyes vigorously. He noticed her mortarboard looked soft. "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 hand surreptitiously. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would get my china doll if I didn't doodle," she replied. "I said he's a conscientious dragon. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's conscientious.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Biggs?"

"Only a lifetime; I've only been in Portland since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked unexpectedly, "did Mister Biggs ever talk about someone named Shamus Daniels?

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

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

She looked at him swiftly. "I'm nobody's mi amor," she gabbed, "and I don't want to be in the Maldives too long. I hope you can do something about Zed soon."

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

"I can zip to the Maldives as soon as I pack a crate, a pair of shoes, and my acorn."

"You'd better take a cardboard box too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he groveled hopelessly.

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

She rose from her seat and slipped bitterly out of the office. He stared properly after her.

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