Claire McNab - The Dingo Dilemma

Hallelujah! "I quite understand," I said with a faint, brave smile. "Don't give it a thought."

"Bonzer," said Brucie. "You don't mind, then?"

"Of course not. Los Angeles is an exciting city. You do have a lot to cover before your tourist visa expires."

"No worries on that score," Brucie said. "I'm working on getting a green card. I might be here for good."

Once Fran announced she was taking Quip home before he fell off the chair from exhaustion, there was a general move to leave.

"I didn't know you had a blog," I said to Lonnie when I went back to announce the coast was clear and that he could carry out his electronic sweep for bugs.

He gave me his best boyish smile. "Lots of things you don't know about me, Kylie." His grin faded. "Pauline's made a big difference to my life."

"I'm sure she has," I said diplomatically.

"I'm serious about her. In fact, I love her. Deeply."

I blinked at him. Lonnie deeply in love with Pauline Feeney? "What does she feel about you?" I inquired.

Anguish filled his chubby face. "I don't know."

"You could ask."

Lonnie shook his head. "No, I can't," he said. "I've tried, and I can't. Kylie, this might be the biggest favor I'll ever ask of you."

Crikey, I had a fair idea what was coming. I wasn't wrong.

"I must know. I can't go on with this uncertainty. Woman to woman, would you ask Pauline if she loves me?"

"Lonnie, I can't just come out with a question like that and expect her to answer it."

"Please, Kylie. You'll find a way. I'm dying a little each day, not knowing. You're the only person I can trust to do this."

He looked so hopefully at me, I felt myself weakening. I knew very well what it was like to love someone and not be sure if the love was returned.

"Right-oh," I said, "I'll give it a go, but don't keep badgering me about it. If an opportunity presents itself, I'll ask. If it doesn't, I won't. Fair enough?"

Lonnie nodded, sighed, then started lugging the bug detection equipment out of his room. "It's hell," he said, "this loving someone and not knowing. Hell."

Ariana came in after Lonnie had established that we were, indeed, bugged. He and Bob were in the process of finding each device and neutralizing it. I put my finger to my lips and mouthed, "We're bugged."

She raised one elegant eyebrow. I grabbed a notepad and scrawled: Lots to tell you. I'm taking you to dinner, Musso & Frank's. Pick you up at seven. OK?

I held my breath. This was as close as I'd ever been to taking her on a date.

Ariana gave me a long blue look, then took the pen from me and wrote: OK.

Musso & Frank Grill on Hollywood Boulevard first opened its doors, the menu proudly proclaimed, in 1919 and since that date had served generations of celebrities and Hollywood shakers and movers.

Ariana and I were seated in one of the many dimly lit red leather booths. The place was crowded and red-jacketed waiters with grim expressions moved without much urgency to take orders.

"They pride themselves on their surly attitude," said Ariana after one gruff waiter had taken our drink order. "It's part of the tradition."

I looked at the menu, an unpretentious white card packed with comfort food items-no complicated gourmet dishes here. "What are you going to have?" I asked, daunted by the choices available.

"Their macaroni and cheese always tempts me," Ariana said.

"Sounds good," I said. And when our brusque waiter finally delivered our food, I found it was better than good-it was addictive.

I'd already asked Ariana about Natalie. She'd been moved to a rehabilitation facility, and although her physical condition remained the same, Ariana said that she was calmer.

We discussed the bugging of our building. Lonnie had said that the devices were state-of-the-art. Tiny as a small pea, they were self-adhesive, so it was simple to unobtrusively deposit them under the edge of a desk, in the pot of an indoor plant, on the lintel above a doorway, and so on.

But who was doing the bugging, and why? It was intriguing that the same two blokes had also been snooping around Dingo's apartment building. We'd left Bob and Lonnie, armed with the photos of Morgan and Unwin, trying to establish whether or not they did work for Homeland Security. Bob was inclined to think Norris Blainey was behind the bugging and it was linked to the attack on Quip, so he was going to visit Quip at home and show him the photos in the hope he might identify the two blokes as the ones who'd bashed him.

Lonnie's cynical opinion was that Morgan and Unwin had been such clueless amateurs that they probably did belong to Homeland Security or some other government body.

"We can't decide on any plan of action until Bob and Lonnie find out who these guys work for," Ariana said. "So to change the subject, how was your first day on the Darken set?"

Soon I had her laughing. I told her about the two opposing rent-a-crowds chanting "Dingo!" and "Collie!" at the entrance to the studios. I recounted my capitulation to Felicity Frobisher on the matter of what constituted an Aussie accent. I gave her a word-for-word of Dustin Jaeger's penchant for referring to himself in the third person, and I described how I fronted up to Earl Garfield.

I saved my conversation with Dingo O'Rourke for last. "He didn't want to talk to me, but I said I wasn't going anywhere until he did, so he finally gave in."

"I know just how he feels," said Ariana dryly.

I ignored that. "First up," I said, "you have to know Dingo is absolutely devoted to Darken. There are three dingoes playing the part, and he says he's fond of all of them, but the dingo he loves most is the main one, and her name actually is Darleen."

In my mind's eye I could see Dingo as he talked about Darleen. His drawn face had become animated. Even his droopy mustache had seemed to perk up.

I went on to explain how he had come to believe the whole dingo napping threat by the Collie Coalition was a set-up to generate publicity for a show that was sliding in the ratings and in danger of cancellation. The idea that Darleen might be the target for abduction had first been mentioned on Internet notice boards where fans of the show exchanged messages. As rumors spread, the story reached critical mass and was broken to the general public by the media.

"Does he know who's behind the scheme?" Ariana asked.

"Earl Garfield and Norris Blainey."

"It makes sense for Blainey to be involved. He needs Darleen Come Home to be renewed by the network as he's in an ongoing financial crunch. Kenneth Smithson called me this morning to say rumors are circulating that Blainey is close to bankruptcy."

"Ripper! That means he won't be trying to buy our building.

"I wouldn't get too elated," said Ariana. "Blainey's a financial Houdini. He's been close to ruin many times, but always managed to survive and prosper."

I went on with Dingo's story. "He says that until recently Blainey's only occasionally turned up at the studios, but now he's there every second day. And he's taken a big interest in the whereabouts of the dingoes. They're in their kennels at night, but during the day they're taken to different places for their exercise regimen, training sessions, and grooming. They have their own vet, and when a dingo's involved in a scene, a representative from animal welfare has to be present."

"What about on-location shoots?" Ariana asked. "Surely it'd be easier to carry out a snatch when there's no studio security to worry about."

"Dingo says all location work has been canceled. He doesn't believe it's a case of snatching Darleen, anyway. He's got the idea in his head that one of the dingoes will be killed. That's why he's taken to sleeping at the studios."