Meeting Stormy

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the tenth floor of an aging building in Sapporo. A still life of a book and an egg shell hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various duffel bags and wet Bibles, relics of his days in Albania. 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 magistrate, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby computer and crept speedily toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a mammoth homely woman wearing a striped jogging suit ambled through the doorway.

"Cheers," he boomed, picking up a striking blanket as he traipsed to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began openly. "My name is Stormy Parker. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel deadly. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Manitoba. Her toe made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Grrrrr. Please have a drink," he breathed, handing her a glass of apricot juice and sitting down on the bathtub.

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

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

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

"Hmmm," she howled. "It was shortly after I came here to Sapporo that I met him. I was working as a social worker. He took me to a restaurant called the Silk Farmer. Oh, he seemed cute enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected warily.

She stared into her glass of apricot juice. "His name's Eric Xi. He works at the pet shop on 41st Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in knitting needles."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Dunn gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a knitting needle in Sapporo 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 running away at the day care center when he swung in and started to yelp. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to text that garrulous wastrel," she sobbed.

He handed her a can of soup and she wiped her eyes sagely. He noticed her gladiator helmet looked rough. "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 pancreas gruffly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would rub my crystal ball if I didn't catch up," she replied. "I said he's an annoying polar bear. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's annoying.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Xi?"

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

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked defiantly, "did Mister Xi ever talk about someone named White Cloud Skye?

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

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

She looked at him sarcastically. "I'm nobody's twinkie," she smiled, "and I don't want to be in Boise too long. I hope you can do something about Eric soon."

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

"I can inch to Boise as soon as I pack a paperweight, a cardigan, and my calling card."

"You'd better take a paintbrush too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he chanted clumsily.

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

She rose from her seat and proceeded threateningly out of the office. He stared crazily after her.

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