Claire McNab - Kookaburra Gambit

We got all the details straight, then Alf and Chicka got up to go.

"Chicka," I said, "can I ask you a serious question?"

He looked wary. "What question would that be?"

I was pretty sure he was stringing Melodie along. I didn't want her embarrassed. She was already telling all her friends she had a guaranteed part as a puppet voice. The longer it went on, the worse it would be.

"Did you offer Melodie a part in your Oz Mob movie?" I expected him to say no, and was poised to read all the signals he was lying.

Alf scowled at his brother. "Chicka, are you doing this again ?"

Chicka got red. It must be a trial to blush that easily. "I might have mentioned something like that to Melodie," he said.

I was getting quite riled. "It's not right to get Melodie's hopes up that way." I was pleased to see that Bob's expression was irate too.

Alf patted my shoulder. "Don't get het-up, love. If Chicka's promised it, she's got the part." He frowned ferociously at his brother. "But this is the last time you do this, Chicka. All right?"

Chicka wilted a bit. "All right," he said.

I could see one looming problem that I hadn't mentioned to Bob or the Hartnidge brothers. After they'd left my office, I called Chantelle.

"Good afternoon! United Flair. How may I assist you?"

"It's me. This call is business, not pleasure."

"I'll hide my disappointment as best I can."

I loved Chantelle's sense of humor, but this was no time for light conversation. "Do you know the receptionist at Lamb White, the movie company?" I asked.

"Sure do. Rachelle's her name. Excitable type. I've never met her, but we've often spoken. The talent agents here frequently have clients auditioning for parts in Lamb White movies."

"Here's my situation," I said. "I know how incredibly efficient the receptionist network is."

Chantelle murmured approval of my assessment. Everyone likes to be praised. So-

"Hold on, Kylie. Call coming through… Good afternoon! United Flair. How may I assist you?"

Chantelle took several calls, one after the other, then came back to our conversation. "You were saying how efficient receptionists were…"

"That efficiency may be a problem. This is absolutely between us, Chantelle. Top secret. Confidential. Hush hush-"

"Honey, I get the picture!"

"I'm going undercover for a case-"

"No! Like last time?" I'd met Chantelle during my first attempts at learning private eyeing, so she knew I'd had somewhat of a rocky start.

"I hope things will go much smoother."

"Amen," said Chantelle with a giggle.

"Can we be serious for a moment? I'm worried the receptionist at Lamb White will realize who I am. I reckon everybody on the network got an earful about what happened last time."

"You can relax," said Chantelle. "Rachelle's new in town. Just moved here from the Midwest. She's playing in the big leagues now and still trying to get up to speed."

"So if a little Aussie broad called Kylie turned up, Rachelle wouldn't make the connection?"

"No way," said Chantelle with certainty. "Besides, Rachelle's not the sharpest pencil in the box. She's nice enough but tends to get flustered."

I'd picked up from Chantelle and Melodie that receptionist flusterdom was judged very harshly. It was unprofessional to lose your head, whatever crisis came up.

"I'd speak to Melodie, if I were you," Chantelle advised. "She's your weak link."

"Melodie's a weak link?"

"Normally, she's very professional," Chantelle hastened to say. "Lately, however, Melodie's head's been turned with her tooth-whitening callbacks. And now the puppet voicing. She'd never mean to give you away, Kylie, but there's always an outside possibility."

"Melodie's got a second callback for the tooth commercial?"

"Just a few minutes ago," said Chantelle. "We're all very happy for her."

Armed with this information, I wasn't surprised to find Melodie on the phone, the air around her head thick with exclamations. "Amber! It's happened! The second, the final Refulgent callback! Larry, my agent, is over the moon! Damn. Another call coming through. Hold on, Amber… Good afternoon. Kendall & Creeling… Courtney! I got it! The final Refulgent callback!"

I cleared my throat.

"Gotta go, Courtney. Get back to you…Amber? Sorry, gotta go. Call you later."

"Congratulations, Melodie," I said. "That's wonderful news."

"It is, isn't it?" Melodie clasped her hands and did her looking-at-the-ceiling thing. "You slave to perfect your craft, and then your One Big Chance comes along and makes it all worthwhile."

"So you'll be leaving Kendall & Creeling?"

Melodie stared at me, amazed. "Haven't you heard the saying, 'Don't give up your day job?'"

I had, but it didn't seem something Melodie would apply to herself. "Isn't that advice for people who aren't very good?"

"It's true, I am good," said Melodie, "but until the residuals start rolling in, I won't consider myself secure enough to give up this job."

"Speaking of which," I said, "I've something to discuss, but it's off the record, not to be disclosed, confidential-"

"I get it, Kylie!"

I explained the situation. Melodie listened with close attention…or perhaps she was acting like she was paying attention.

Whatever, she kept her big green eyes on me until I'd finished, then said, "You've got another problem."

"I have?"

"The Church of Possibilities. They own Lamb White." I wasn't surprised Melodie knew this, not only because she'd been dating Chicka, but because I'd take bets she was familiar with every film company, every producer, every director in Los Angeles.

"It's Lamb White I'll be dealing with," I pointed out.

"Maybe so," said Melodie, "but I happen to know the church keeps a very close eye on everything." When I raised my eyebrows, she added, "Nicole, the receptionist before Rachelle, told me. It drove her mad."

I had to ask. "What happened to Nicole?"

"Married a COP missionary and moved to the Cook Islands." Melodie shook her head. "Such a waste. Basic phone system only."

Tami Eckholdt, head of Lamb White, had avoided being famine thin, which was a change. She had an athlete's body, tight and well-muscled. She wasn't tall, but she looked resilient, as though you could knock her down and she'd get right up again.

"Hello," she said, eyeing me with open curiosity. Her very short hair was a metallic copper that couldn't possibly have been natural.

"My girlfriend, Kylie," said Alf, a proprietary arm around my shoulders. He gave me a squeeze hard enough to bruise. "Knew you wouldn't mind if I brought her along."

"Not at all." Tami flashed a very white smile, fully worthy of a Refulgent girl, though in her case I reckoned it was probably a cosmetic dentist's work. She didn't seem the do-it-yourself type. She took my hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't get the name?"

"Kylie." We'd decided it would be easier to stick to my real moniker, although if anyone asked, my last name was going to be Kennedy, not Kendall.

"Welcome, Kylie." She linked her arm through mine. "Alf can look after himself for a while. Let me introduce my wonderful Lamb White team."

The patio we ended up on was crowded with people talking loudly. At one end, chefs in full getup, including those white, puffy hats, labored over two huge gas barbecues. My stomach rumbled. Lunch had been yonks ago.

"March, this is Kylie. Kylie, March is one of our wonderful directors." March flicked a look at me and lost interest immediately. "And this is…"

In no time flat, I was dizzy from names. It wasn't that I failed to pay attention-it was Tami Eckholdt's machine-gun delivery.

Spying another guest arriving, Tami said, "Steve will look after you, Kylie," and handed me off to a weedy bloke with big teeth, too large for his mouth. He had slightly protruding eyes and a prominent Adam's apple. He made me nervous by looking around all the time in an overanxious manner, as though everything we were saying was being recorded for later examination.