Kookaburra Gambit

'When hell freezes over,' muttered Fran.

I reminded myself that both these people belonged to my staff. In the interests of a good office atmosphere, I decided a little social chitchat would be in order. 'Chantelle tells me Quip used to be a life coach,' I said to Fran.

'Quip used to be lots of things.' Fran's tone didn't invite further conversation, but I soldiered on.

'Did Quip ever life-coach you?'

Harriet chuckled. Fran gave me a long look, then said, 'What the hell do you mean?'

'I was wondering if Quip was your life coach somewhere along the line.'

'Why would I need a life coach?'

'Well, it'd be free, for one thing. And Quip could help you identify and meet your goals.'

Fran said to Harriet, 'Is she for real?'

Harriet chuckled again. Fran swung her gaze back to me. 'For your information, Kylie, if it's any of your business-which it isn't-Quip gave up his life-coaching career long before I met him. If he'd still been doing it, I would have demanded he stop, because-' She broke off to glare at me suspiciously. 'What are you looking at?'

I didn't want to own up, but Fran, hands on hips, was waiting for an answer. 'How often you blink. It's research.'

Fran rolled her eyes. 'How often I blink? Jesus!'

'The rate you blink can be a giveaway if you're lying.'

Fran's eyes narrowed down to slits. 'You're accusing me of lying?' she ground out.

'Crikey, not in a million years,' I said. 'I'm not that brave.'

Melodie breezed in at about quarter past ten. 'They loved my laugh,' she said, dumping assorted bags on the reception desk.

Melodie had confided in me that she always traveled with masses of makeup and several outfits, just in case she needed to transform herself for a particular audition.

She gave a practiced toss of her long blond hair, then flashed her pearly whites at me. 'Larry, my agent, thinks I'm a sure thing.' Melodie looked at the ceiling, as if a choir of harmonizing angels might burst through, all singing 'Sure thing! Sure thing!'

'You've got a callback already?' I was learning the lingo fast.

'Of course not. They've still got piles of bees to audition.'

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