Lester

Lightman was ready for that suspicion.
“I will give you three requests,” the creature said. “They must be small—but they should be things that would have no chance of occurring otherwise.” He had smiled, and when Lester had a glimpse of those strange, savagely pointed teeth, he had not thought “trickery,” he had shuddered. “When all three of those requests have been fulfilled, you may call upon me for a more complete contract, if you are convinced.”
Lester had nodded, and had made his requests. First, that the transmission of his car, which he had already had inspected and knew was about to go, be “healed.”
Lightman had agreed to that one, readily enough.
Second, that his rather tiresome wife should be removed permanently from his life.
Lightman had frowned. “No deaths,” he had said. “That is not within the scope of a ‘small’ request.”
Lester had shrugged. “Just get her out. You can make me look stupid,” he said. “Just make me sympathetic.” Lightman agreed.
And third, that the sum of ten thousand, two hundred and fifty three dollars end up in Lester’s bank account. Why that sum, Lester had no idea; it was picked arbitrarily, and Lightman agreed to that, as well.
He had vanished the same