Claire McNab - Kookaburra Gambit

"May have? Did you mention it to Melodie?"

"It's the way things work in this town. It's who you know, Kylie. You cultivate the people who can pull strings for you."

"What happened to talent? Doesn't that count anymore?"

Fran narrowed her eyes. "Are you saying Quip isn't talented?" she asked in a menacing tone.

"Of course not, Fran." Her dangerous expression was fading, until I added, "Although, in all honesty, I don't have any way of knowing one way or the other."

"Quip is brilliant," she snarled, eyes down to slits again. "You can take my word for it."

"Right-oh."

"It's purely bad luck he hasn't had any of his screenplays picked up. It'll happen. Soon."

I suddenly wished I had someone who believed in me the way Fran believed in Quip. "I'm sure you're absolutely right. I mean, what would I know?"

"Exactly. What would you know?"

Harriet, on her way out, stopped to say good night. "I see Melodie collected her pound of flesh," she said to Fran.

Fran made an indeterminate sound that could have meant anything.

I must have looked puzzled, because Harriet said to me, "You didn't know Melodie got Chicka to persuade Lamb White to hire Quip?"

"I've just heard."

"Of course that means Fran owes Melodie a big favor in return." She grinned at Fran. "Hope it was worth it."

I was disappointed. "So that's how Melodie got to go home early? She called in a favor?"

Fran tossed off a derisive laugh. "You thought I'd do this for Melodie from the goodness of my heart?"

"Well, yes, I did."

"More fool you," said Fran. I thought she looked a bit embarrassed.

Harriet passed the delivery bloke on her way out the front door. He and I didn't get on too well. He was the pushy, too-friendly sort with a nasty streak to go with it.

Dumping several packages on the desk, he said to me, "And how's little Nancy Drew this afternoon?"

Ever since he'd sprung me reading Private Investigation: The Complete Handbook, the delivery bloke had given me a hard time.

"Detecting my little heart out," I said. "Thank you for asking."

He grinned knowingly at Fran. Jerking his head in my direction, he said, "Hey, Fran, watch your back. Before you know it, the girl detective here will be running the whole show."

Fran shot me a cold look. Fair dinkum, this woman could hold grudges. "What makes you think she isn't already?" she snapped.

I was all set to have dinner with Aunt Millie but got a merciful reprieve when she called to say Disneyland had exhausted her so she wanted an early night.

"What did you think of Disneyland?" I dutifully inquired.

"Far too happy," she said. "All that joy and gladness. It's not natural."

"About tomorrow," I said, "Friday's always a busy day for me-

"Universal."

"Pardon, Aunt Millie?"

"Universal Studios. I'm booked on a tour. I'll see you tomorrow night."

Who would have thought my aunt would take such an interest in the cultural icons of L.A.? I took a deep breath. I had to bite the bullet. "Aunt Millie, you've been invited to a charity gala, but I don't know if you'd be interested. You probably won't be. It's fine if you're not."

"I'll go. When is it?"

I felt myself droop. "But, Aunt, you don't know anything about it."

Aunt Millie snorted. "I imagine you're about to give me all the details. Go on, then." I went on. Aunt Millie asked searching questions. I answered them as best I could.

"This Church of Possibilities," she said, "is it a satanic cult?"

I found myself grinning. "Quite possibly. Even probably."

"Should be an interesting evening." She sounded pleased, which in itself was unsettling.

"I have to admit, Aunt Millie, I'm surprised. I didn't think a charity gala like this would be the sort of thing you'd like."

"That's how little you know about me, Kylie. In my day I was quite wild."

My Aunt Millie?

"Wild? What sort of wild?"

"None of your business, my girl. Now, I need to go shopping for something suitable to wear to this gala affair. You're free on Saturday morning, I presume? Perhaps we could do Rodeo Drive."

"Rodeo Drive!"

"Kylie, do you have any idea how annoying it is to have someone repeat words back to you? I'm afraid it's becoming a habit of yours. I strongly advise you to break it."

While Julia Roberts consumed tuna for dinner, I sat in the kitchen with a cup of tea and made a list of things to do on the Hartnidge case. I headed it take action! to impress on my subconscious the need to get moving.

It was important to find out what was going on at the Australian end, and to establish if the source of the opals was Ralphie's Opalarium. Lonnie hadn't got back to me yet on whether Ron Udell or Ira Jacobs had traveled to Australia lately, or if Brother Owen had visited Wollegudgerie.

Then there was the Oz Mob office in Burbank. Apart from Jacobs and the creepy Udell, Paula/Patsy was a major suspect, especially as she was the person in charge of shipping the toys into the country.

Alf and Chicka would have to be the ones to organize an audit of their company's books. All I could do was suggest they hurry up and have it carried out, both here and in Oz.

I pondered over the list, putting at the end a note to have one of the Hartnidges fax our office a copy of the contract they'd signed with Lamb White. Harriet would know where to get the best legal opinion on a document like this. I had a strong suspicion the fine print Brother Owen had referred to would contain the key clauses, and they would all be to Lamb White's advantage.

When I'd finished, I read the list to Julia Roberts, who listened with an abstracted air. The squirrels were having a party on the roof tonight, and at least one appeared to have invested in lead boots. At least, I hoped they were squirrels. Lonnie had given me hair-raising stories about L.A. tree rats. He claimed they lived in palm trees, were big as cats, and most had rabies.

Naturally I'd asked if Lonnie had ever seen one of these monstrous rats. He'd been forced to admit he hadn't, not personally, but he knew a woman who had. Indeed, Lonnie assured me, her miniature dachshund had almost been whisked away by a pack of the colossal rodents and was only saved when she heard its cries of distress. I'd demanded the person's name and number. Lonnie became evasive. Perhaps it was a friend of a friend…

There was another scuffle on the tiles above us. "Would you protect me from a rabid tree rat, Jules?"

She washed her face, spending special time on her whiskers. I guessed the answer was a qualified no. You could never tell with Julia Roberts. She'd put herself on the line for me once before, so why not do it again?

I checked the time. It would be Friday morning in Wollegudgerie. One item on my list was to check with Bluey Bates. I could do that right now. I dialed his number.

"Kylie, love. How's things?"

He sounded so subdued, I said, "What's the matter, Bluey? And don't say 'nothing.' I can tell there's something wrong."

"I was going to ring you darl, really I was, but…"

"Is it about Ralphie?"

"Yeah." Our voices were traveling across the wide Pacific Ocean, but Bluey's sigh was as clear as if he'd been in the room with me.

"The stolen opals?"

"Yeah. He as good as admitted to me he was in on it, but I said to him, 'Don't tell me, Ralphie, or I'll have to do something about it,' so he shut up."

"Is there anything you can let me know?"

"One thing. Ralphie's not the brains in the family by a long shot. He isn't smart enough to set this up himself. Someone approached him with a deal. He was to get a percentage of the proceedings, but I don't believe he's seen any money yet."

"Any idea who set it up?"

"If it had been anyone local, Kylie, word would have got around. You know what the 'Gudge is like. I reckon most people are pretty sure Ralphie had something to do with the robbery, but no one's said anything to me. And Mucka Onslow doesn't have a clue, as usual."