"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 Platypus in a series!" She thrust the paper at me, and assumed the stance of one leaning over a microphone. "Fair dinkum, Penny Platypus here. G'day. How yer goin' mate, orright?" She looked at me, pleased. "What do you think of my Australian accent? My voice coach says I've got the ear."
"Needs work." That was an understatement. It was hard to say what Melodie's accent sounded like, but it certainly was nothing like an Aussie.
"You could give me a few pointers, Kylie, so I could fine-tune my accent. Meryl said the Australian accent was one of the most challenging she'd tried." She added with a satisfied smile, "Funny, isn't it, because I haven't found it very difficult."
"You're comparing yourself to Meryl Streep?"
"Of course not. Meryl's an established star, near the end of her career. I'm just at the beginning of mine." She snatched Variety back from me and read the paragraph again. "It's fate that Chicka and I met. It's like I was meant to interpret Penny Platypus."
"Don't count your platypuses until they're hatched." Crikey, I was in a sour mood this morning. "What I mean is, Melodie, it's just a proposal. Lamb White isn't committed yet."
Melodie was feverishly slapping cream cheese on her bagel. "Tiffany will just die when she hears the news," she said, ankling the kitchen with bagel, coffee, and Variety under her arm.
I took my tea back to my office. Lonnie came wandering in, for once not eating, to tell me Ron Udell had visited Australia along with Brother Owen. He'd traced Brother Owen's movements with ease, as the leader of the Church of Possibilities was clearly drumming up as much publicity as possible about setting up a branch of COP in Queensland. This made sense. Queensland was a bonzer state, but the place did seem to attract more than its fair share of way-out religions.
Brother Owen had flown into Sydney with Udell, and then they'd apparently separated, with Brother Owen courting the media in the capital cities of Melbourne, Sydney, and Brisbane, and Ron Udell going off on his own. Lonnie hadn't found out where.
I felt quite smug when I told Lonnie I'd done a bit of detecting of my own, and knew the answer to that question.
After Lonnie had wandered back out again, I checked my take action! list, deciding to eliminate two items with one call. First, I needed the contract Alf and Chicka had with Lamb White faxed to our office. Second, I had to persuade the Hartnidges to initiate a full audit of their company in both Australia and here in the States.
I got Alf Hartnidge on the line. "Kylie, love! Marty-O's been chatting with me and Chicka at an early morning brekkie. He's a good bloke, you know. Wants the best for us." He added with a reverent tone, "Did you see we made Variety this morning? Variety!"
"I read the item, Alf. Now, Marty-O, what's he been saying?"
Alf and Chicka might be big, strapping Aussies, but even I could see that in L.A. they were babes in the wood.
"Marty-O explained how lucky we are that Brother Owen's so keen to use our Oz Mob in those Bible movies. Chicka's still dragging his feet, but I'm gung ho."
"Has Marty-O suggested you sign any new contracts with Lamb White?"
"He's drawing them up as we speak. Says we need to pin Brother Owen down quick smart, before he changes his mind."
The Hartnidges weren't babes in the wood. They were lambs to the slaughter. "Don't sign any contracts, Alf. Not until a lawyer looks them over."
"Why drag a lawyer into it? Marty-O knows what he's doing."
"He certainly does," I said. "That's your problem right there."
It took some fast talking, but I finally managed to get Alf to promise neither he nor Chicka would sign any documents without having them checked out. "I'll get Harriet to call you," I said. "She can give you the names of the best entertainment lawyers."
"If you really think it's necessary…"
"I do, Alf." I added, "And Marty-O will respect you for it." A good thing Alf couldn't see my cynical smile.
There was no problem getting Alf to agree to fax over the current contract he and Chicka had with Lamb White. The problem came with the audit. "But, mate, Ira Jacobs will be asking why we want an audit. It's like we don't trust him, isn't it?"
"You don't trust him."
"Yeah, but…"
I was beginning to wonder whether Alf might not have some other reason not to offend Jacobs. "Alf, level with me. Do you fancy Ira Jacobs?"
"I might."
"It's not a good idea to let personal feelings get in the way of business matters."
Crikey, I was sounding like my mother. And I was such a hypocrite. If Ariana ever said the word, I'd be in her arms like a shot, business or no business.
"It's not easy being bi," Alf complained. "If you think about it, you get double the temptations everywhere you go. It's bloody hard to say no."
Normally, Alf's sex life would be none of my business, but Ira Jacobs was a different matter. It was my professional duty, I decided, to find out if Alf was sleeping with the enemy. "I can see how Ira could be very enticing," I lied, "but have you resisted temptation so far?"
"Of course," said Alf with a touch of indignation. "I mean, he's staff. But still…" I was alarmed to hear yearning in his voice.
"Could I speak to Chicka, please?"
Chicka was much more resolute than his brother. He agreed a lawyer was an excellent idea and that an audit was essential. "No worries. I'll straighten Alf out. He tends to let people bamboozle him."
The iron had clearly entered Chicka's soul. I started to say, "You sound much more-"
"Tough? I am. Yesterday when we were getting pushed around by that Bible-basher, I said to myself, 'So what's ten bloody minutes?'"
"Pardon?"
"Ten minutes. Alf thinks being ten minutes older makes him top dog. That he can make all the decisions and I'll go along like a good little younger brother. No more!"
"What does Alf say to this?"
"He keeps on looking at me sideways, like he doesn't know what to make of it. I tell you, Kylie, I should have done this long ago. I'm bloody enjoying myself!"
Harriet said she'd look out for the fax from the Oz Mob offices and would discuss the contract with a lawyer friend who was in the entertainment business. She could also supply the twins with a list of reputable attorneys.