Kookaburra Gambit

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.

I was rather hoping to head for the barbecue area, but as no one else appeared to be eating yet, I advised my stomach to stop complaining and turned my whole attention to the weedy bloke. To start the ball rolling, I said, 'You work for Lamb White, Steve?'

'I'd describe myself as Tami's right-hand man.'

I couldn't think of a suitable rejoinder to this, so I kept quiet. An uneasy silence fell between us. Finally, I broke it with, 'This place is really something.'

I'd hit the conversational jackpot. Steve was delighted to show me the house and grounds while keeping up a running commentary. I'd realized this part of Rexford Drive in Beverly Hills was exclusive, but, Steve said, in COP's catalogue of buildings, this one was a jewel. The building's style, Steve told me authoritatively, was French provincial tweaked for American tastes. In short order, I knew more about French provincial architecture than I'd ever intended.

If the front of the place was imposing, the backyard was even more so. It had been elaborately landscaped as a sort of miniature Versailles gardens, Steve declared, a small version of the famous grounds where Marie Antoinette used to stroll.

'Why in the world would you copy Versailles in Beverly Hills?' I asked.

Steve stared at me. No one, he assured me, had ever asked him that question.

I was rescued from Steve by Alf, who flung his arm around my shoulders yet again and gave me another hard squeeze. I made a note to speak to him about that. 'Kylie, old love,' he boomed, 'was wondering where you'd got to. Come and meet Rachelle. She's a ripper sheila.'

Rachelle was almost certainly the new Lamb White receptionist. She turned out to be a breathless brunette with an impressive cleavage and masses of dark, curly hair.

'That Alf's such a card!' she squealed, as he was claimed by Tami and whisked away from us.

'Alf is one of a kind.'

'One of a kind? Oh, that's so perceptive of you!'

Perhaps she always spoke in exclamations. I gestured toward the champagne she held.

'Nice champagne?'

'Nice! Oh, yes, of course! Cristal!'

'And that's good?'

She tinkled a laugh Melodie would have envied, then nudged me with her elbow, surprisingly hard. 'Oh, you!'

I signaled to Chicka, who was standing forlorn with a champagne glass clutched in one large hand. 'Over here, Chicka.'

'Omigod!' exclaimed Rachelle. 'Am I seeing double?'

Chicka came over and smiled down her cleavage. 'G'day.'

'You're twins, you and Alf!'

Chicka conceded that they were.

He looked astonished when Rachelle nudged him in the ribs the way she had me. She should register that elbow as a lethal weapon. 'Omigod!' she shrieked. 'You know what they say about twins!'

Alas, I was never to know what the word on the street was about twins, as Tami Eckholdt had turned up again. 'Sorry to drag you away, Kylie, but there's someone Alf insists you meet. Someone special.'