Kookaburra Gambit

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.'

'So you're thinking someone pretending to be a tourist lobbed in and contacted Ralphie?'

'Funny thing,' said Bluey, 'the week before the opals disappeared, I ran into Ralphie in the company of a couple of Yanks. I would have stopped for a chat, but my brother couldn't get rid of me fast enough.'

I sat up straight. 'Did you get their names?'

'I didn't, but I know they were staying at the Wombat's Retreat.'

This wasn't surprising. Except for a few bed-and-breakfasts, Mum's pub was the only accommodation in town. Bluey worked out the approximate date he'd seen the blokes with Ralphie, and I said I'd check direct with Mum.

'Ralphie's such a bloody fool,' said Bluey. 'But he's family, so I have to stick by him. Thank God our mum and dad aren't here to see him behind bars. That's where the stupid bastard's going to end up, you know.'

What could I say? Poor Bluey was absolutely right.

I said goodbye and hung up, then picked up the phone to call Mum. I hesitated. Coward that I was, I didn't want to say to her, 'Don't keep asking me to come back to help you run the Wombat. It's not going to happen.' She'd be upset, and probably cry, and I'd feel awful.

Still, this was business. This was my first real case. I punched in the numbers briskly, before I could change my mind.

Mum was distracted. 'Kylie, lovely to hear from you dear, but I'm waiting for the plumber. The hot water's off, and wouldn't you know it, we've got a full house.'

I told her the information I wanted. 'Do you mind, dear? I'll put Rosie on. She can look it up for you.'

'Who's Rosie?'

'She's new. Not great, but she'll have to do for the moment. Since you've been gone, I've had trouble coping with the paperwork. Millie will tell you all about it.'

Fortunately, before Mum could really get going on this subject, the plumber turned up, and I was transferred to Rosie. Rosie didn't seem too bright, and it took her ages to find the registration details I wanted, but I finally heard one name I recognized.

I would have never thought the security procedures brought about by rising terrorism in the world would ever be of help to me, but I was wrong. Everyone registering in the Wombat's Retreat had to provide identification, and foreigners were required to show their passports. Ron Udell, accompanied by a man I didn't know, Simon Wardley, had stayed at the pub the week before the Opalarium burglary.

I thanked Rosie with so much enthusiasm I startled her, hung up, and did a little jig around the room. Who could I call and say how clever I'd been? Then I gave myself a mental slap. I was a professional. I'd wait until tomorrow and coolly mention it to Bob and Ariana.

Thinking of Friday reminded me of my date with Chantelle. We'd had plans to visit a new lesbian bar in West Hollywood on Friday evening, but now Aunt Millie was expecting me to have dinner with her. I called Chantelle to explain the problem.

'Why don't we three have dinner?' said Chantelle. 'I'm dying to meet your aunt, having heard so much about her.'

'I don't think that's a very good idea.'

'And then,' said Chantelle, 'we can take her along to the bar with us. Show her a bit of the West Hollywood night life.'

I gasped. 'Take my Aunt Millie to a lesbian bar!'

'Why? What's the problem? Is she narrow-minded?'

'I don't think it's a very good idea.'

'You said that before. How about I just ask her when we meet? Leave it for your aunt to decide if she wants to come with us or not.'

'Chantelle, you can't ask my Aunt Millie to a lesbian bar. She'd feel out of place.'

'She'll have plenty of company. You find lots of straight women there. It's curiosity brings them-taking a walk on the wild side.'

I stifled a giggle. 'When I was talking to Aunt Millie earlier, she did tell me she'd been wild in her day.'

'There you go,' said Chantelle. 'Aunt Millie can relive her youth.'

Eighteen

Friday morning I found Melodie in the kitchen reading Variety while her bagel toasted. From her cheerful demeanor I saw she had gotten over yesterday's audition trauma.

I glanced over her shoulder. I'd found that Variety and The Hollywood Reporter were the official newspapers of the entertainment industry and collectively were called the 'trades.' They both used odd jargon, understood by the in-crowd. I figured as a private eye I'd be having lots to do with entertainment types, so I was learning the language.

So far I'd established that people who 'ankled' had actually left a company or a movie cast, and that every reference to 'Mouse House' was actually the Walt Disney organization, but some word usage still puzzled me.

'What's 'Laffer Skein Preems' mean?' I asked, pointing to a headline.

'Comedy series has its premiere. It's show biz talk.'

'I know that, Melodie.'

My tone was a little tart. Having Aunt Millie around was wearing on my nerves. I'd tried to find out how long she intended to stay in Los Angeles, working on the principle that a finite end to the agony would help me cope, but my aunt had been vague, saying she had an open-ended return ticket on Qantas, and she'd leave when she was good and ready.

'Oh, look,' said Melodie, on full alert. 'There's something here about the Oz Mob.'

'Where?'

'Lamb White's making a series of Oz Mob movies!' Melodie turned sparkling eyes to me. 'Kylie! I'll be Penny