Poof

The office was cold, musty, and lit by one very weak incandescent bulb. In a lonely corner sat an ancient looking man with a mangy black cat on his lap.

"Are you the fixer?" she inquired.

"I am," was the feeble reply.

"Are you sure you can make my problem disappear?"

"I can. Do you have the money?"

Myra handed over the thick manila envelope.

"It'll be done tonight."

"Good." She smiled.

"By the way, your problem paid me to make his problem go away and I always honor my agreements."

"Her shock was brief, and then she was gone."