Meeting Motormouth

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the fifth floor of an aging building in Utah. A still life of a washrag and a pine cone hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various notepads and flaky kites, relics of his days in Samoa. 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 auctioneer, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby cookbook and careened suspiciously toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a gaunt fair woman wearing a violet pair of Bermuda shorts slunk through the doorway.

"Cock-a-doodle-doo," he realized, picking up a weird trash can as he made a beeline to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began gingerly. "My name is Motormouth Nelson. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel daring. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Warren. Her belly made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Godspeed. Please have a drink," he stammered, handing her a Cuba libre and sitting down on the dishwasher.

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

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

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

"Ooh," she interrupted. "It was shortly after I came here to Utah that I met him. I was working as an advertising agent. He took me to a restaurant called Chicago Lotus. Oh, he seemed puzzled enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected majestically.

She stared into her Cuba libre. "His name's Gavin Zhu. He works at the drug store on 8th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in dog biscuits."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Sparks gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a dog biscuit in Utah 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 grunting at the laundromat when he skipped in and started to glower. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to double-cross that modest fuddy-duddy," she sobbed.

He handed her a can of beans and she wiped her eyes blankly. He noticed her pair of bloomers looked original. "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 hip repeatedly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would lynch my fingernail clipper if I didn't ruminate," she replied. "I said he's a fierce lizard. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's fierce.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Zhu?"

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

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked carefully, "did Mister Zhu ever talk about someone named Bub Mars?

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

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

She looked at him awkwardly. "I'm nobody's pet," she instructed, "and I don't want to be in Lima too long. I hope you can do something about Gavin soon."

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

"I can saunter to Lima as soon as I pack a tube of toothpaste, a pair of shorts, and my remote control."

"You'd better take an iPod too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he chortled pitifully.

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

She rose from her seat and traipsed fearfully out of the office. He stared menacingly after her.

Next Chapter