Claire McNab - Kookaburra Gambit

Bees was the term Melodie used for would-be actors. I reckoned it applied to Melodie, too, but thought it wiser not to say so.

"It's my big chance, Kylie. I just know it. You have to follow your dream."

"Your dream is to be in a tooth-whitening commercial?"

I must have sounded a touch sarcastic, because Melodie's expression changed from joyful to severe. "Refulgent is the nation's largest-selling dental enhancer."

"The largest? Blimey, that makes all the difference."

Melodie looked at me suspiciously-a lot of people had been doing that lately-but my innocent expression saved me. "Larry, my agent, says my laugh clinched it."

I put up a hand. "Don't demonstrate. I couldn't stand to hear it one more time." Curiosity made me add, "How does the laugh fit in with a tooth whitener anyway?"

"You must have heard the Refulgent jingle, 'Laugh Without Fear.'"

"Sorry. Don't know it."

Melodie patted my shoulder consolingly. "It's understandable. You are a complete stranger, after all."

"I'm learning as fast as I can," I said in protest.

But Melodie had forgotten my cultural plight and was obviously reliving her moment of triumph at the audition. Clasping her hands, she exclaimed with deep emotion, "Refulgent! Now I can laugh without fear." She tinkled the infuriating laugh we'd all learnt to cringe at, then stretched her lips in a manic smile. "Thank you, Refulgent! Thank you!"

"That's it?" I said.

Melodie whirled on me like a demented creature. "It's a speaking part, Kylie. Do you know how hard it is to get one of those? Do you have any idea?" She took a deep breath to calm herself. "Anyone can look good, but to have words to interpret takes one to an entirely different level in the performing arts."

The phone rang. "All yours," I said, relinquishing the chair behind the reception desk. "Here's the list of calls and messages I've taken." Apparently, Melodie wasn't going to thank me for spending all this time covering for her, so I added sarcastically, "And thank you, Kylie, from the bottom of my heart."

Melodie didn't hear me. "Tiffany!" she shrieked into the phone. "This audition's the one. I feel it here." She thumped her chest. "What? Chicka? Yes, we went out last night…" Melodie slid a sideways look at me. "Tiff? I'll call you back…"

Ariana joined me in my office fifteen minutes before Alf and Chicka were due to arrive. "Bob just called me. There's a fender bender on the Hollywood Freeway and he's stuck in traffic, so he's going to be late for the Hartnidge meeting. Do you mind if I sit in?"

"Bonzer idea." I came around her side of the desk. Ariana was a little shorter than me, but we were pretty close to eye-to-eye. I wondered if she knew what an electric jolt it was to look into that startling blue. Then, of course, I realized she had to know. I reckoned from the time she was little, people had remarked on the color of her eyes.

Ariana raised an eyebrow. "Kylie?"

I felt my face get hot. I'd been staring. "I've been strategizing," I said hastily, gesturing to chairs I'd arranged around a coffee table I'd lugged in from Lonnie's office, where it had been buried under piles of papers and odd electronic devices. "I reckon if I sit Alf and Chicka over there, not together, but separate, and offer tea and biscuits, it'll create the kind of atmosphere where they'll be at ease."

I never found out what Ariana thought of this, because there was a knock at the door and Alf and Chicka sailed in. Their clothes were identical to yesterday, except each wore a pair of khaki pants instead of shorts.

"Told Melodie we could find our own way," said Chicka.

"Sorry we're a bit early," said Alf. "Chicka and me, we had a breakfast meeting with Tami, and we finished sooner than expected."

"That'd be Tami Eckholdt of Lamb White Incorporated?" I said in a casual, I'm-on-top-of-it way.

"Yeah, that Tami," said Chicka. "Friendly sort, and a bit of all right, I can tell you."

Being influenced by Quip's assessment of Tami Eckholdt, I hadn't considered for a moment she'd be sexually attractive. I now recalled The Complete Handbook counseled against accepting other people's opinions about individuals. A private investigator had to form his or her own judgments after rigorous examination of the person in question.

"Would you like to sit over here?" I said, ushering them in the direction of the coffee table assemblage.

"Right you are," said Alf. He and his twin brother flung themselves into chairs side by side. This was not the configuration I intended, but I could hardly ask them to move.

Alf winked at Ariana as he patted the nearest empty seat. "Park yourself here." When she complied, he asked, "How's tricks?"

"Tricks are fine, Mr. Hartnidge."

"Call me Alf! I reckon Mr. Hartnidge would be our dad, and he fell off the perch years ago."

"Tea and biscuits?" I said.

Alf shook his head. "Thanks, love, but no. Tami put on quite a spread for us." He jerked his head at his brother. "Chicka's got all the stuff you asked for about the staff and whatnot." Chicka obligingly whipped out copies of personnel files and handed them to me.

"How did you choose your staff?" I asked.

Alf pursed his lips. "Let's see. We wanted to bring our own people over, but immigration's hell these days, so it turned out to be more trouble than it was worth."

"That's when Tami stepped in," said Chicka. "Loaned us some Lamb White people and helped us hire a few others. Couldn't have set up the office without her."

I thought the rest of the meeting went quite well. I had a list of points to cover, and we went through all of them without too much trouble. The Hartnidges had had an investigator looking into the Australian end, but Alf and Chicka were convinced someone in their newly set up Burbank offices was the mastermind behind the opal scam.

"Not that Tami would know anything about it," said Chicka gallantly.

"We've got several Oz Mob shipments still on the way," said Alf. "God knows how many have opals in them."

"Vital Tami never hears a word about our little problem," Chicka cautioned. "If even a hint of anything illegal gets out, there goes the whole shebang."

Alf nodded sagely. "Moral clause in our Lamb White contract. No scandal. Nothing illegal." He jabbed Ariana with his elbow. "Takes all the fun out of life, eh?"

She looked at him for a sec, as if she couldn't believe he'd whacked her in the ribs. "I can see it could be a real downer," she said.

"So that's the sitch." Alf leaned back in his chair. "We'll leave it up to you experts to decide the next step."

The brothers turned to me, clearly expecting I'd know what this next step might be. "We'll do a comprehensive check on members of staff at your Burbank offices, then get back to you," I said.

Alf slapped his hands on his thighs. "Well, that's business taken care of. Now to pleasure." He beamed at Ariana. "Hope you don't mind me being a bit pushy, love, but are you free?"

Ariana looked startled for a moment, then said, "Pardon me?"

"I'd reckon a good sort like you would've been snapped up, but Melodie told Chicka, no, she'll be open to an invite. That's dinkum, isn't it? You're not hitched?"

I glanced at Ariana. She had an expression of polite inquiry. "I'm not sure what you mean, Mr. Hartnidge."

"Alf," said Alf.

"He's asking you out," said Chicka helpfully.

Alf nodded vigorously. "Yeah. A slap-up meal, a show, whatever takes your fancy."

Silence. Both Alf and Chicka gazed at Ariana.

"Could be the best offer you get all week," I remarked.

The corners of Ariana's mouth twitched. "I'm honored, Alf," she said, "but I'm afraid it's a rule of the company never to date clients."

Clearly disappointed, he said, "A rule, eh? A strict one?"