Claire McNab - Kookaburra Gambit

"I thought ignorance was no defense in law."

Bob shrugged his narrow shoulders. "It'll fly."

"But-"

"Think this through, Kylie. There's absolutely no way the story will be kept quiet if the opals are reported. The Feds will be on it, some bright spark in Homeland Security will come up with the theory it's got something to do with terrorism, and so on. Alf and Chicka get to kiss the Lamb White movie goodbye, and worse, because of the draconian morals clause in their contract, they'll almost certainly be sued by the studio. Lonnie's already pointed out the Hartnidges are in a precarious financial position. This will ruin them. Get the picture?"

"I see what you mean," I said. "Our clients come first."

"Atta girl."

Alf and Chicka were due at ten, and as they were usually early for appointments, when ten came and went, I wondered what had happened. I went out to reception, thinking Melodie might have received a message and forgotten, in the excitement of her lunchtime Date With Destiny, to pass it on to me.

Chicka was there, in khaki shorts and shirt, both sporting multiple pockets. He was leaning over, talking to Melodie in agitated tones.

"What's up?" I said.

He turned an agonized face in my direction. "I walked here from the accident. It's down a block or so on Sunset Boulevard. Alf s still there."

"Is anyone hurt?"

"Just the pink Cadillac. It's got a pretty big ding. And so has the Hummer."

"The Hummer ran into the Cadillac?"

Chicka looked doleful. "The Cadillac ran into the Hummer. I told Alf, watch out for that hoon in the Hummer, driving like a maniac. Alf didn't watch out." He sighed. "He never takes my advice."

"So Alf's waiting for the car to be towed?"

Chicka shook his head. "It's drivable. Fact is, Alf got into a blue with the Hummer driver, and then the cops turned up."

"A blue is a fight," I translated for Melodie's benefit.

Eyes wide, she clasped her hands in entreaty. "Chicka! Your brother's been arrested?" I could imagine her as a character witness pleading with a judge for Alf's release.

"Dunno, love. Hope not. Alf's doing his best to talk his way out of it. I got a bit toey with the cops, so Alf told me to come here."

"Toey means excitable," I said to Melodie.

The front door was flung open, and Alf stomped in. "Stone the bloody crows!" he exclaimed. "Did Chicka tell you what happened? That arsehole driving the bloody Hummer deliberately bloody stopped in front of me. Then the cops give me a ticket." He took a deep breath. "Damn-bugger-bitch-bum!"

Chicka bit his lip. "Alf, not in front of the ladies."

"Oh, sorry," said Alf. "But it's bloody maddening. No one knows how to drive in this town."

A quarter of an hour later, calmed by several cups of tea, Alf and Chicka sat in Bob's office as we went over our investigation so far.

"Not Ira Jacobs," said Alf, clearly wounded. "He's a top bloke. You sure he's suss?"

"You sure?" repeated Chicka. "I never saw anything wrong."

"And it's Chicka's area, the financial side," said Alf, "so you'd think he'd notice."

I resisted rolling my eyes.

"Jacobs is more than suspicious," said Bob, "but we'll need an audit, both at the Aussie end and here in L.A. before we can be sure. And remember, Alf, Chicka, you can't act any differently toward him. OK?"

Alf wasn't happy. "All right, we'll try."

Chicka was woebegone about something else. "And Paula Slade's really Tami Eckholdt's sister, put there to spy on us? You sure about that?"

"Absolutely," I said. I trusted Lonnie to get it right.

"Don't breathe a word to Melodie," said Chicka, "but I was dead-set on asking Paula for a date. Suppose that's got the kibosh now."

"Chicka's a sheila magnet," said Alf with a touch of pride.

Chicka and Melodie had raised my eyebrows, but I could see what Chicka might see in her. Chicka and Paula/Patsy! Blimey!

"I almost forgot," said Alf, "but Tami's taken a real liking to you, Kylie. We've got a script conference at Lamb White this afternoon. Tami said if you were free, she'd love to see you."

I had serious misgivings about Tami Eckholdt, but this was another chance to get in with the Lamb White people, so how could I turn it down?

"I'm not tottering around in those high heels again," I said.

Alf looked quite disappointed. "No? You looked bonzer yesterday."

"Have you tried wearing them?" I said. "The really, really high ones? Instruments of torture."

"I know all about it," said Alf, with a world-weary manner.

Looking at his jumbo brown leather ankle boots, I said, "I very much doubt it."

"Alf's fair dinkum," said Chicka, grinning. "You should have seen him onstage in the chorus line at the Wollegudgerie Footy League Celebration Dinner. He was all got up in green chiffon and high heels. Laugh? I near wet myself!"

I was sitting in my office updating my notes on the Hartnidge case when the phone rang. It was Fran, who was manning the front desk, as she usually did when it was Melodie's lunch hour. "Kylie, something's wrong with Melodie."

"What's happened? Is she sick? An accident?"

"No idea," said Fran, who actually sounded concerned. "She just rushed in a minute ago, wearing dark glasses, and went directly to the bathroom. Didn't say hi. Didn't natter on about the audition."

"Nothing about her audition? That sounds serious. Do you mind staying at the front desk while I see what's up?" After Fran had assured me, with requisite sarcasm, that there was no place she'd rather be, I went off to locate Melodie.

Because our offices were in a converted house, the staff bathroom was just that-a bathroom with bath, shower recess, and toilet. I found Harriet outside the door, jigging up and down.

"Kylie," she said. "Thank God! You know what pregnancy does to your bladder? I've got to go, right now, but Melodie won't open the door."

"Use my bathroom. Meanwhile, I'll see if I can extract her from this one." I knocked gently on the door. "Melodie?"

I could make out someone inside wailing, "Go away."

"I'm not going away." I tried the handle. Locked, of course. "Melodie, open this door."

"I can't."

Good thing I had excellent hearing. The door was a substantial one, and Melodie's voice was faint. "You mean the door's jammed? Are you saying you want a locksmith?"

"No locksmith!" This was followed by loud sobs.

"Melodie, open this door, or I'll break it down."

"You wouldn't."

"I would!"

A pause was followed by the sound of the door being unlocked. I went in, closely followed by Julia Roberts, who'd been attracted by the commotion. Melodie plunked herself on the edge of the bath and buried her face in her hands. Sobs shook her slender body. Julia Roberts gave me a look that clearly said, It's your problem, before walking gracefully out of the bathroom.

"What the hell's the matter?" inquired Lonnie, putting his head around the edge of the door.

"If you want a bathroom, use mine." I sat beside Melodie and gave her a few comforting pats on the back. "There, there."

Lonnie came all the way into the room. Bending down to look closely at Melodie's hunched form, he said, "What happened? You blew the Refulgent callback?"

Melodie raised her head. I was ashamed to find myself relieved to discover that when Melodie sobbed, her skin became blotchy and her eyes got pinkish-red. Up to now I'd suspected I was the only one in L.A. who looked a wreck after crying. Not that I ever cried…

"I did not blow the Refulgent callback." Melodie was very indignant. "I'll have you know I've been cast in the Refulgent commercial. If you don't believe me, ask Larry, my agent."

"Then why all this weeping and wailing?" Lonnie asked.