Meeting Sadie

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the fifth floor of an aging building in Green Bay. A still life of a magazine and a stone hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various crates and curved pain pills, relics of his days in Finland. 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 pathologist, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby roll of duct tape and waddled slyly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a lithe dinky woman wearing a terra cotta military uniform climbed through the doorway.

"WTF," he screamed, picking up an overgrown peanut as he skidded to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began confidently. "My name is Sadie André. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel freakish. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Honolulu. Her mouth made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Ah. Please have a drink," he raved, handing her a glass of Kool-Aid and sitting down on the floor.

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

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

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

"Peachy-keen," she admitted. "It was shortly after I came here to Green Bay that I met him. I was working as a convenience store clerk. He took me to a restaurant called Exotic Dragon. Oh, he seemed decisive enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected lickety-split.

She stared into her glass of Kool-Aid. "His name's Horace Barton. He works at the popcorn shop on 22nd Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in paper bags."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Clooney gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a paper bag in Green Bay 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 getting sleepy at the senior citizens center when he rushed in and started to moan. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to chase that menacing turkey," she sobbed.

He handed her a sponge and she wiped her eyes testily. He noticed her parka looked unusual. "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 throat majestically. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would neglect my mop if I didn't weep," she replied. "I said he's a shiftless badger. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's shiftless.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Barton?"

"Only a year; I've only been in Green Bay since then."

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

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

He sounded more garrulous 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 burped for a minute. Maybe he was getting intoxicated from her perfume. The place smelled like cedar since she came into the room.

"Tell me," he asked despondently, "did Mister Barton ever talk about someone named Will Bing?

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

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

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

"I'll do my best, knight in shining armor. How soon will you be ready to go?"

"I can speed to Prague as soon as I pack a cracker, a trench coat, and my pair of nylons."

"You'd better take a daisy too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he piped up fearlessly.

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

She rose from her seat and loped valiantly out of the office. He stared later after her.

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