“Of course,” said Odelia, as she leaned back. “Though talking to Veronica might not be the best approach. If she really is as suspicious as you say she is…” She thought for a moment. “Who manages the Baxter Foundation? Dave himself or a board of trustees?”
“Everything goes through a banker,” said Hester. “A guy named Waldo McLoughlin. Fernleigh gave us his name and phone number, in case we wanted to get in touch. Here you go.” She slid a piece of paper across the desk and Odelia picked it up and studied it.
“I think maybe the best thing would be for us to pay a visit to Mr. McLoughlin,” she said. She gave Jayme a reassuring smile. “I’m sure this will all work out just fine, Jayme. We’ll have a chat with this man, and if you want I’ll have a chat with Dave himself, and explain to him what’s going on.”
“And tell him to keep that wife of his on a tighter leash!” said Hester.
Clearly she wasn’t Veronica’s biggest fan.
Chapter 3
“You want me to do what?!”
Scarlett stared at her friend, then at the crudely drawn sketch Vesta had made and placed before her on the table. The two friends were seated in a new street caf? called Sunny Beach, which was rumored to serve up coffee that was even tastier and trendier than anything Starbucks could come up with. And since Scarlett was a big fan of her daily cappuccinos, she simply had to try it. And she had to admit, it wasn’t bad. Not bad at all.
Dressed to impress as usual, she’d already attracted plenty of attention from passersby, something she lived for, especially when that attention was equally divided between admiring looks from the male contingent, and jealous looks from their wives.
“I want you to create the next bestselling cartoon with me,” Vesta repeated her proposal, and then pointed to the sketch. “Look, this is Harriet, the star of the cartoon, and this is Brutus, her sidekick. And then of course there’s Max and Dooley, but they’re just the extras. You know, like that spider and that dog in Garfield. Why, you don’t like it?”
“I don’t know.” She studied the blob that was supposed to be Harriet. It didn’t look like a cat. In fact it didn’t look much like anything. “What makes you think I can draw?”
“Oh, don’t be so modest, Scarlett. Remember when we took that art class a couple of years ago? And how Mr. Cooper kept telling you how talented you were?”
“That’s because Mr. Cooper liked taking a closer look at my assets, Vesta.”
“You think?”
“Absolutely. I don’t have an ounce of artistic talent. Not a scintilla.”
“But…”
“Look, the only reason I took that art class was because they were rumored to hire the best male models—and they did! I should know, because I dated a fair few of them.”
“Well, of course. It was the only reason I took that class.”
Scarlett grinned.“I know it was.”
“But at least I thought you could draw.”
“No, hon, I’m sorry to disappoint you.”
In fact Vesta looked so disappointed Scarlett tried to think of a way to cheer her up.“Hey, we can always hire an artist. There must be plenty of young artists who’ll get into bed with us—pun intended.”
“Yeah, but I don’t wanna,” said Vesta, getting that mulish look on her face that was so typical of her. “I thought about asking Dave James, and I’m sure he’ll jump at the chance, but then we’d have to split the profits, and before you know it, Dave will claim that he came up with the idea and try to kick us to the curb.” She waved her hands in a distracted manner. “Nah, I just don’t want to have to deal with all of that stuff. Besides, you know what artists are like. Prima donnas, every last one of them. No, it’s gotta be you and me.”
“Well…” said Scarlett, thinking about Vesta’s latest brainwave as she studied the blob that was supposed to be Harriet. “We could always try a photo comic. I mean, you’ve got the perfect models with Harriet and Brutus and the others. All you gotta do is work out the scenarios and have them act it out.”
“What’s a photo comic?” asked Vesta.
“Well, they’re like comics, only with pictures instead of drawings.” She took out her phone and googled ‘photo comic’ and landed on one where a woman was gazing longingly at a handsome man with a cleft chin. Above her head a thought balloon showed what she was thinking: ‘Oh, Matt. If you don’t kiss me right now I’ll just die!’ And above the cleft chin guy’s head another thought balloon said: ‘I’d kiss you right now, Evelyn, if my wife wasn’t looking.’
And indeed, in the next panel the image panned out and now you could see that Matt and Evelyn weren’t alone, but in the company of his wife and what presumably was her husband. More thought balloons had been inserted, with the one above Evelyn’s husband reading: ‘I just wish she’d look at me the way she’s looking at Matt.’ And the one above Matt’s wife: ‘Look at the way Evelyn islooking at Matt. Oh, no! They’re having an affair!’
“Huh,” said Vesta thoughtfully. “Do you think this will sell?”
“It’s cats, Vesta. People love cats.”
“I’m not so sure. People are used to seeing cartoon characters, not real people.”
“Or cats.”
“We could always give it a shot. You’re probably right in that it’s easier to snap a couple of pictures than to find an artist who’ll draw this stuff.”
“And cheaper.”
“And cheaper.”
“Did you draw this?” asked Scarlett as she tapped the strip of paper.
Vesta swelled with pride.“Yep. My very first cartoon.”
“So explain the joke to me.”
In the first panel, the blob that was Harriet had a speech balloon over her head, and it read:‘Oh, Brutus, the moon is full, and so is my heart.’ And then in the second panel they just kinda stared at each other, and finally in the third panel Harriet said, ‘Smoochie poo, my heart belongs to you.’ And he: ‘Boo-boo, my heart belongs to you.’
Scarlet looked up.“I feel like there’s something missing. Like a punchline?”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Vesta agreed.
“This stuff is supposed to be funny, Vesta, and this ain’t funny.”
“No, I guess it isn’t. Well, I just whipped this one up last night. And when I showed it to Harriet she thought it was great—the best thing she’d ever seen. I guess she’s biased.”
“Harriet would say anything—as long as she’s the star, she’ll like it.”
Vesta sighed.“You know, Dave James makes it look easy, but this is pretty darn hard.”
“You keep mentioning Dave James. Who is he?”
“The guy who makes those turtle cartoons. Tollie the Turtle?”
“Oh, right. Yeah, I guess it’s tough to top that turtle.”
“I’m starting to see that.”
Both friends sipped from their drinks as they glanced around at the people passing on the street.“You know, maybe we should do like comedians,” Scarlett suggested. “Bounce ideas off one another.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I come up with an idea, and then you work with that and come up with another idea and so on and so forth. That’s how the professionals do it. I’ll start. Ping-pong ball.”
Vesta frowned.“Ping-pong ball? That’s the best you can come up with? How is that funny?”
“It’s not. It’s just to get the ball rolling. Come on. Your turn. Anything that pops into your head.”
“Is this how Dave James works? Cause I’ve never seen a ping-pong ball featured in his stuff, and I’ve been reading Tollie the Turtle every morning for the past fifty years.”
“Just humor me” said Scarlett. “Ping-pong ball. Go.”
“Um… tennis ball?”
“Football.”
“Basketball.”
“Volleyball.”
Vesta groaned.“This ain’t working.”
“I got a feeling we’re not doing it right. Let’s try something different. Chamomile tea.”
“Black tea.”
“Green tea.”
“Ice tea.”