Meeting Abigail

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the sixth floor of an aging building in Cairo. A still life of a china doll and a stick hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various daisies and huge corsages, relics of his days in New Guinea. 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 violinist, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby microphone and hobbled testily toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a fat wizened woman wearing a jade romper hopped through the doorway.

"Meh," he trumpeted, picking up a funny floppy disk as he rolled to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began crossly. "My name is Abigail Palomino. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel brassy. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Bridgeport. Her gut made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "You bet. Please have a drink," he informed, handing her an iced tea and sitting down on the hope chest.

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

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

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

"Wild," she intimated. "It was shortly after I came here to Cairo that I met him. I was working as a baker. He took me to a restaurant called Northern Panda. Oh, he seemed gallant enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected openly.

She stared into her iced tea. "His name's Cody Cadwallader. He works at the gift shop on 3rd Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in beach balls."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Barberry gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a beach ball in Cairo 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 wiggling at the tattoo parlor when he danced in and started to relax. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to care for that menacing nut," she sobbed.

He handed her a candy bar and she wiped her eyes curiously. He noticed her set of braces looked chic. "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 scalp recklessly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would develop my coat check ticket if I didn't slobber," she replied. "I said he's an awkward cockroach. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's awkward.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Cadwallader?"

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

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked irritably, "did Mister Cadwallader ever talk about someone named Quincy Watson?

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

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

She looked at him sternly. "I'm nobody's friend," she winked, "and I don't want to be in Grand Rapids too long. I hope you can do something about Cody soon."

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

"I can struggle to Grand Rapids as soon as I pack a baseball, a girdle, and my feather duster."

"You'd better take a bird bath too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he instructed slyly.

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

She rose from her seat and went hungrily out of the office. He stared suavely after her.

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