“We don’t have much time,” said the constable as he escorted them into the barracks. “This way,” he said, leading them through to a back door.

Without question they followed, exiting the barracks out the back. A dim light in a shop at the end of the road caught Benison’s attention.

“What is that place?” he asked, pointing to the single light.

“Hm?” said the Constable. “Oh, that’s Helga’s Hoes.”

At once, and unseen by his comrades, Benison altered his direction and made a bee-line for the building labeled “Helga’s Hoes.”

Benison stopped at the door and made an effort to straighten his clothes. He knocked boldly at the door. A huffy, busty blond woman threw open the door.

“Yeah! What do you want!?”

“Is this Helga’s Hoes?”

“Oh! For the love of—Did Jasper send you?”

“Uh…no.”

“Damn that Jasper!”

And the woman slammed the door in Benison’s face.

Benison blinked stupidly at the door. He knocked again. The door flew open.

“Och! You again! What do you want?”

“Forgive me madam, but—”

“Didn’t I tell you, I ain’t no madam!”

“This isn’t Helga’s Hoes?”  Benison asked.

“I am Helga, but I ain’t no hoe! This is all that Jasper’s fault!”

“Who—Who is Jasper?”

“Jasper! He’s the old farmer. He’s always going around telling people that I run a hoe house for the working men.”

“And you don’t?”

“Do I look like a hoe to you!?”

Benison bit his lip. She did look kind of skanky.

“So this isn’t Helga’s Hoes?” he asked.

“Hoes, you fool! Hoes!” Helga shouted. “I sell farm equipment! Not women!”

“Ah!”

Helga slammed the door again in Benison’s face.

Benison knocked again.

“You still here?” Helga said throwing open the door again.

“Helga,” Benison smiled. “Could you tell me where Jasper is at the moment?”

“Yeah,” she said. “He’s where he always is at this hour. He’s at the tavern down at the end of the road here, drinking!”

She slammed the door again and Benison gave a nod.

“Hmhm…me thinks I’m going to go have a WORD with that there Jasper.”