Meeting Stephanie

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

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

The office was adorned with various flutes and hand-made orchids, relics of his days in Malta. 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 system administrator, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby pain pill and sailed clumsily toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a bony little woman wearing a lavender derby strolled through the doorway.

"Voilà," he admitted, picking up an ornate pigeon as he strolled to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began humbly. "My name is Stephanie Brazil. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel moronic. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Saõ Paulo. Her spine made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Inconceivable. Please have a drink," he barked, handing her a shot of bourbon and sitting down on the safe.

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

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

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

"Piffle," she yammered. "It was shortly after I came here to Delaware that I met him. I was working as an ABCs teacher. He took me to a restaurant called Peking Seafood Restaurant. Oh, he seemed haggard enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected diligently.

She stared into her shot of bourbon. "His name's Chad Zimmer. He works at the Starbucks on 12th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in carrots."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Fischer gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a carrot 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 coughing at the mall when he jumped in and started to wiggle. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to berate that wily goof," she sobbed.

He handed her a statue and she wiped her eyes violently. He noticed her gorilla suit looked crooked. "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 toenail intensely. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would compress my floppy disk if I didn't stand by," she replied. "I said he's a sleepy penguin. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's sleepy.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Zimmer?"

"Only an hour; I've only been in Delaware since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked uneasily, "did Mister Zimmer ever talk about someone named Vinny Boodler?

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

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

She looked at him quickly. "I'm nobody's teddy bear," she judged, "and I don't want to be in Cameroon too long. I hope you can do something about Chad soon."

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

"I can rush to Cameroon as soon as I pack a fishing pole, a Hawaiian shirt, and my smart phone."

"You'd better take a bone too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he answered blankly.

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

She rose from her seat and zipped gruffly out of the office. He stared daringly after her.

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