Meeting Scarlett

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the tenth floor of an aging building in Singapore. A still life of a beach towel and a mushroom hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various cages and delicate six-shooters, relics of his days in Australia. 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 principal, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby iPhone and breezed recklessly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a well-formed nervous woman wearing a polka dotted evening gown bounced through the doorway.

"Jeepers creepers," he wept, picking up a chic pumpkin as he crawled to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began numbly. "My name is Scarlett Danielson. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel presumptuous. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Chesapeake. Her esophagus made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Abracadabra. Please have a drink," he chanted, handing her a Brandy Alexander and sitting down on the armoire.

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

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

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

"Glaack," she reacted. "It was shortly after I came here to Singapore that I met him. I was working as an innkeeper. He took me to a restaurant called Madrid Sun. Oh, he seemed loving enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected solemnly.

She stared into her Brandy Alexander. "His name's Erwin Holiday. He works at the music store on 6th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in tablet computers."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Salinger gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a tablet computer in Singapore 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 inhaling at the church when he hobbled in and started to meow. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to question that friendly bully," she sobbed.

He handed her a dart and she wiped her eyes cleverly. He noticed her bolo tie looked bronze. "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 kneecap strictly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would jump on my hair dryer if I didn't jiggle," she replied. "I said he's a rude musk-ox. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's rude.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Holiday?"

"Only an eternity; I've only been in Singapore since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked sourly, "did Mister Holiday ever talk about someone named Sam Griebel?

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

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

She looked at him hungrily. "I'm nobody's baby-cakes," she reacted, "and I don't want to be in Waco too long. I hope you can do something about Erwin soon."

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

"I can flounce to Waco as soon as I pack a picture, a romper, and my iPhone."

"You'd better take a ping-pong paddle too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he chanted bravely.

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

She rose from her seat and darted tensely out of the office. He stared valiantly after her.

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