Fletch’s Moxie

19

After dinner, Fletch found Geoffrey McKensie in the billiard room playing alone.

Fletch chose a cue stick and McKensie triangled the balls.

They played almost through a game without saying anything.

Finally, McKensie said, “Sorry. Fraid I behaved pretty badly at dinner. I ran on like a young lady not invited to the garden party.”

“Not to worry,” Fletch said. “You had some things that needed saying and you said ’em.”

Continuing in the tone of one vexed with himself, McKensie clucked, “What will you Yanks think of us Aussies.”

“Us Yanks will think of you Aussies as lovingly as we always have.” At Fletch’s stroke, the cue ball neatly avoided every other ball on the table.

McKensie sank two and took his third shot.

“Good at sports, too,” Fletch said. “Damn it.” He bounced the cue ball off several, leaving McKensie with a wonderful lay. “Tell me, though—those things you said—were you saying them because you really believe someone in Jumping Cow Productions might really have been gunning for Peterman—or were you just saying them to dump on Koller?”

McKensie took a careful shot and sank two at once.

Fletch hung up his stick.

“I don’t know,” McKensie said. “It’s true—Koller was a good director—back before he sank his integrity in the briney. Nowadays, it doesn’t bother him to shoot a bad script—as long as he gets paid for it. What hurts is that he knows better. It’s also true that Peterman was mucking things up royally. He deserved the cold steel between his ribs.”

Seeing Fletch had quit, McKensie resumed playing by himself and cleaned off the table.

Fletch asked, “Do you think Peterman could have been sabotaging this film on purpose?”

“I can’t think of a reason. Nobody likes to lose money.” McKensie hung up his own cue. “But I’ll tell you, Peterman couldn’t have done more to torpedo that film if he were doin’ it deliberate.”

“Drink?” Fletch asked. “There’s some bad American beer.”

“Brought some scripts with me from home,” McKensie said. “Think I’ll go do some work on ’em. Somethin’ tells me Koller won’t want to continue talkin’ shop with me this night.”