Les Norton and the Case of the Talking Pie Crust by Robert G. Barrett
Authors: Robert G. Barrett
Tags: Fiction
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got to be the boxheads, smiled Les, checking them out through his rear-vision mirror. All oudt for extremely serious fun unt games, ja? Les slipped the Berlina into drive and moved off.
Les followed the signs down and came to another gate. He pushed the pointer into a small aperture in the wall and the gate swung open. A little further on he found a three-car garage with the door open and number eight on the wall alongside. Les parked his car and without bothering to lock the garage, caught the lift back up to the lobby and went for a walk around.
A landscaped path edged with lava rock led down to an open-air pool and a restaurant that faced a waterfall splashing down into pool full of golden carp. Les watched several fat carp blowing bubbles amongst the water lillies for a moment,then followed another set of stairs back up to the fountain.
To the right was a cosy snooker room and library hung with spectacular Tim Jones and Bosko surfing photos, taken at Teahupo’o in Tahiti. Les dwelled on a ripper shot snapped inside a filthy four-metre barrel by the mighty Bosko, then left and walked back out round the fountain and past the tennis court. Through a landscaped alcove a glass door led to a fully equipped gymnasium, and a door opposite opened onto a heated indoor pool. Les let himself in and found comfortable wicker chairs and tables on this side of the pool, and life-size Egyptian murals of pharaohs and priests, alongside panels of Egyptian hieroglyphics on the wall opposite. The ceiling above the pool was a thick cobalt blue and dotted with tiny lights that twinkled on and off like stars. This would look something else at night, surmised Les, and was thinking of taking a closer look at the murals, but a woman was using the pool, so rather than look like he was perving on her, Les left the woman to her splashing about and returned to his room.
After pouring himself a glass of cold water from a jug in the fridge, Les took it out on thebalcony to enjoy the view again. He drained the glass and was about to finish unpacking his bag, when a rumbling in his stomach reminded Les all he’d eaten that morning were two paltry toasted cheese sandwiches. It was time for something more substantial. He could have eaten in the apartment. But Les decided he’d walk down to the shops, where the open-air restaurant he’d noticed beneath the resort looked all right. Les picked up his backpack and with his faithful green Bugs Bunny cap firmly on his head, caught the lift down to the lobby. He let himself out the security gate, adjusted his sunglasses and strolled happily down to the beach front, exchanging smiles and pleasantries with any passersby.
The restaurant was called Serene’s and sat in a half-circle of shops that belonged to the resort. Chairs and tables were set out in the open and there was an indoor dining area and kitchen where a colourful mural of a village scene covered the walls. Les chose a table near the hotel’s beer garden and settled down with his morning paper. Several waitresses in black were hovering around the punters at the other tables, including an Asian girl with a flower in her hair and a tall woman with glasses. Les was studying the menu when an attractive waitress with dark brown hair pulledback in an untidy ponytail that had a pair of sunglasses jammed in it, appeared at his table holding a Palm Tec waiter’s pad. She had big boobs and a solid backside and the way she stood next to the table seemed to display an aura of haughty insouciance. Les wasn’t sure whether it was his perception of the girl’s attitude, the trouble she appeared to be having with the electronic waiter’s pad, or the smartarse that always came out in him when he wore his Bugs Bunny cap, but Les felt compelled to have a go at her. He watched the waitress vexatiously stabbing the pointer at her waiter’s pad for a moment, then closed the menu and looked up.
‘Do you happen to work here at all?’ sniffed Les, giving the
Les followed the signs down and came to another gate. He pushed the pointer into a small aperture in the wall and the gate swung open. A little further on he found a three-car garage with the door open and number eight on the wall alongside. Les parked his car and without bothering to lock the garage, caught the lift back up to the lobby and went for a walk around.
A landscaped path edged with lava rock led down to an open-air pool and a restaurant that faced a waterfall splashing down into pool full of golden carp. Les watched several fat carp blowing bubbles amongst the water lillies for a moment,then followed another set of stairs back up to the fountain.
To the right was a cosy snooker room and library hung with spectacular Tim Jones and Bosko surfing photos, taken at Teahupo’o in Tahiti. Les dwelled on a ripper shot snapped inside a filthy four-metre barrel by the mighty Bosko, then left and walked back out round the fountain and past the tennis court. Through a landscaped alcove a glass door led to a fully equipped gymnasium, and a door opposite opened onto a heated indoor pool. Les let himself in and found comfortable wicker chairs and tables on this side of the pool, and life-size Egyptian murals of pharaohs and priests, alongside panels of Egyptian hieroglyphics on the wall opposite. The ceiling above the pool was a thick cobalt blue and dotted with tiny lights that twinkled on and off like stars. This would look something else at night, surmised Les, and was thinking of taking a closer look at the murals, but a woman was using the pool, so rather than look like he was perving on her, Les left the woman to her splashing about and returned to his room.
After pouring himself a glass of cold water from a jug in the fridge, Les took it out on thebalcony to enjoy the view again. He drained the glass and was about to finish unpacking his bag, when a rumbling in his stomach reminded Les all he’d eaten that morning were two paltry toasted cheese sandwiches. It was time for something more substantial. He could have eaten in the apartment. But Les decided he’d walk down to the shops, where the open-air restaurant he’d noticed beneath the resort looked all right. Les picked up his backpack and with his faithful green Bugs Bunny cap firmly on his head, caught the lift down to the lobby. He let himself out the security gate, adjusted his sunglasses and strolled happily down to the beach front, exchanging smiles and pleasantries with any passersby.
The restaurant was called Serene’s and sat in a half-circle of shops that belonged to the resort. Chairs and tables were set out in the open and there was an indoor dining area and kitchen where a colourful mural of a village scene covered the walls. Les chose a table near the hotel’s beer garden and settled down with his morning paper. Several waitresses in black were hovering around the punters at the other tables, including an Asian girl with a flower in her hair and a tall woman with glasses. Les was studying the menu when an attractive waitress with dark brown hair pulledback in an untidy ponytail that had a pair of sunglasses jammed in it, appeared at his table holding a Palm Tec waiter’s pad. She had big boobs and a solid backside and the way she stood next to the table seemed to display an aura of haughty insouciance. Les wasn’t sure whether it was his perception of the girl’s attitude, the trouble she appeared to be having with the electronic waiter’s pad, or the smartarse that always came out in him when he wore his Bugs Bunny cap, but Les felt compelled to have a go at her. He watched the waitress vexatiously stabbing the pointer at her waiter’s pad for a moment, then closed the menu and looked up.
‘Do you happen to work here at all?’ sniffed Les, giving the
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