Les Norton and the Case of the Talking Pie Crust Read Free

1938 sixpence in it. Les appreciated Ugly Betty’s gift. But sadly, the sixpenny coin finished up embedded in the forehead of a big Islander who tried to king hit Billy outside the Kelly Club when Billy wasn’t looking. Les apologised to Beatrice and said it came off when he was changing a flat tyre and rolled down a drain. Beatrice said that was okay, she’d find him another one.
    Les was listening to Jerry Lee Lewis doing a great duo with Neil Young and watching a littlebutcher bird that was watching a little skink lizard near the fence, and was about to advise the skink to take it on the toe when the phone rang inside. Norton closed his eyes and thought, Now this is when I should have my mobile next to me. So I don’t have to get up off my big fat arse. He tossed the remains of his tea towards the unsuspecting skink to scare it away, then walked into the loungeroom and picked up the phone.
    ‘Hello?’
    ‘What are you doing, Shitbags?’
    ‘What am I doing, Warren?’ replied Les. ‘Well, I was sitting out in the backyard taking it easy, until you rang and fucked everything up.’
    ‘Shit! I’m sorry.’
    ‘Yeah, I’ll bet,’ grunted Norton. ‘So where are you? Over at your concubine’s place, I imagine.’
    ‘Please don’t call her that,’ said Warren. ‘She’s my lady.’
    ‘Lady? Ohh don’t give me the Edgar Britts,’ snorted Les. ‘She’s either your girlfriend or your sheila. Don’t give me this fuckin lady shit, you imposter.’
    ‘Jesus you’re a fuckin nark.’
    ‘I know. It comes from putting up with you. So you’re over at Ugly Betty’s.’
    ‘And don’t call her that either,’ corrected Warren. ‘It’s Beatrice.’
    ‘Holy shit! Beatrice, Beetroot. Beatrix bloody Potter. Fair dinkum, Warren. What the fuck do you want? This is one of the nicest Saturday mornings I’ve had to myself in ages and you have to stuff things up. Fuck you. Piss off.’
    ‘Okay,’ said Warren. ‘If that’s the way you want to be, you miserable big prick. In your arse. I was going to offer you an earn.’
    ‘An earn?’ Norton’s ears pricked up. ‘Keep talking, Woz.’
    ‘Yeah. I knew that’d make you change your tune, you tight-arsed cunt. All right. How would you like a chance to make fifty thousand bucks?’
    ‘Fifty grand!’ exclaimed Norton. ‘Warren. My friend and confidante. What do I have to do? A nice TV commercial. Do you want me to promote Versace or Armani’s latest range? Does Russell Crowe want me to run on for Souths? I still follow the Roosters. But I can soon switch to the red and green. No problems. Go the mighty Rabbitohs.’
    ‘No. Nothing like that,’ replied Warren. ‘You know Bodene Menjou.’
    Les thought for a moment. ‘Yeah. Yeah, Menny Menjou. I did him a favour once and he slipped me a nice earn. He’s Albanian.’
    ‘That’s right,’ said Warren.
    ‘He’s a shifty cunt. I know that.’
    ‘Agreed,’ replied Warren. ‘Anyway. He’s had a film script knocked off.’
    ‘A film script?’ said Les. ‘I didn’t know Menny was into movies.’
    ‘Neither did I,’ answered Warren. ‘But I was having a drink with Beatrice at one of the local fleshpots last night and he happened to be there. I got talking to him. And he’s quietly offering fifty grand if anyone can find his missing film script. He specifically asked that I mention this to you. He thinks you’re a super sleuth and you might be able to find it for him.’
    ‘Does he now,’ smiled Les. ‘Okey doke, Woz. For that sort of money, I’m interested. What do I have to do?’
    ‘Right. I’ll give you his mobile number,’ said Warren. ‘But rather than ring him, he’ll be down Azulejos at Seven Ways this morning. He’d like to meet you there. You know it?’
    ‘Azulejos? Yeah. It’s a scene near the Rex. I can walk down in five minutes.’
    ‘Okay. You got a Biro?’
    ‘I sure have.’ Les picked up a Biro alongside a notepad on the phone table. ‘Righto Woz, me old mate. Fire