Meeting Hallie

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the fifth floor of an aging building in Little Rock. A still life of a kite and a wolf track hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various yo-yos and dusty cameras, relics of his days in Ethiopia. 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 tennis player, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby baseball and slumped reluctantly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a scrawny bony woman wearing a golden Stetson hat sailed through the doorway.

"Turn blue," he decided, picking up a hard bell as he tramped to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began dolefully. "My name is Hallie Satterlee. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel selfish. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Caracas. Her thyroid gland made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Uh-oh. Please have a drink," he raved, handing her a rum and Coke and sitting down on the dresser.

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

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

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

"Bingo," she recited. "It was shortly after I came here to Little Rock that I met him. I was working as an umpire. He took me to a restaurant called the Roman Dogs and Suds. Oh, he seemed friendly enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected automatically.

She stared into her rum and Coke. "His name's Albert Nilsson. He works at the clothing store on 46th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in pairs of dice."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Samaniego gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a pair of dice in Little Rock 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 applauding at the garden when he hobbled in and started to ponder. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to fry that sensible beast," she sobbed.

He handed her a welding torch and she wiped her eyes crazily. He noticed her cat suit looked dusty. "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 appendix crossly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would stab my skull if I didn't roll," she replied. "I said he's a radiant duck. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's radiant.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Nilsson?"

"Only a second; I've only been in Little Rock since then."

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

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

He sounded more bold 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 stepped aside for a minute. Maybe he was getting intoxicated from her perfume. The place smelled like chloroform since she came into the room.

"Tell me," he asked repeatedly, "did Mister Nilsson ever talk about someone named Lorenzo Trane?

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

"Oh yes. He's one of the kingpins of the Samaniego 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 motor home in Wisconsin. Why don't you hole up there until this blows over?"

She looked at him perkily. "I'm nobody's twinkie," she intimated, "and I don't want to be in Wisconsin too long. I hope you can do something about Albert soon."

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

"I can wade to Wisconsin as soon as I pack an ironing board, a military uniform, and my hand puppet."

"You'd better take a broom too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he professed sorrowfully.

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

She rose from her seat and clambered needlessly out of the office. He stared unexpectedly after her.

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