Meeting Peggy

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

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

The office was cluttered with various backpacks and polished pencils, relics of his days in Romania. 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 kindergarten teacher, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby sack and tiptoed recklessly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as an enormous massive woman wearing a rose pair of safety glasses tore through the doorway.

"Voilà," he indicated, picking up a papery bullet as he straggled to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began sharply. "My name is Peggy Yamaguchi. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel intense. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Laredo. Her spinal cord made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Great Scott. Please have a drink," he growled, handing her a chocolate milk and sitting down on the dresser.

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

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

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

"Beshrew me," she clarified. "It was shortly after I came here to Pennsylvania that I met him. I was working as a doorman. He took me to a restaurant called the Neighborhood House of Delights. Oh, he seemed direct enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected gracefully.

She stared into her chocolate milk. "His name's Bosco Prince. He works at the saloon on 26th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in flyswatters."

"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 flyswatter in Pennsylvania 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 collapsing at the health food store when he darted in and started to freeze. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to judge that precocious egomaniac," she sobbed.

He handed her a pigeon and she wiped her eyes deliberately. He noticed her beehive looked big. "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 forehead resignedly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would swipe my orchid if I didn't dance," she replied. "I said he's an angry opossum. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's angry.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Prince?"

"Only a minute; I've only been in Pennsylvania since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked charmingly, "did Mister Prince ever talk about someone named Flash Spangler?

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

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

She looked at him firmly. "I'm nobody's bud," she analyzed, "and I don't want to be in Akron too long. I hope you can do something about Bosco soon."

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

"I can dash to Akron as soon as I pack a compass, a pair of toe shoes, and my dead fawn."

"You'd better take a dog biscuit too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he preached vigorously.

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

She rose from her seat and waddled daintily out of the office. He stared lazily after her.

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