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LB said nothing, but stared straight ahead into the middle distance as if trying to focus on something that was too far away to see. No one spoke and the silence was only broken by the sound of Buzz’s voice coming through the intercom.
‘Agent Farrow from security is here to see you.’
LB nodded. ‘I’ll be one minute.’ She turned back to Ruby. ‘Well Redfort, I recognise that you showed great initiative and courage when you went into the mountains to recover the Cyan wolf, but. . .’
She paused. Ruby looked over at Hitch, his face betrayed nothing.
‘But,’ continued LB, ‘you also headed into the field, alone and without backup. You ignored direct Spectrum orders. And you would not be alive today if one of our agents hadn’t risked his life to haul you out of there.’
Ruby opened her mouth to protest.
LB raised her hand. ‘As I said, you displayed good qualities. But you also took unacceptable risks. So as of this moment, you are off the field agent programme. To put it in terms you might understand, you’re grounded Redfort.’
‘You have to be kidding,’ said Ruby.
‘You think I have time to kid around?’ said LB. Her eyes were steel – nothing about her suggested that she ever kidded around. ‘You will be permitted to take one further test, and your results will be evaluated. The outcome will determine your future field agent suitability.’ She looked over at Hitch. ‘You can thank your colleague here for this chance. Be ready for it. There will be no warning, you fail to show, you fail the test.’
LB stood, gathered her papers and exited the room. Not another word spoken; silence but for the swish of her elegant white skirt as she padded barefoot down the corridor.
When they were alone, Ruby turned to Hitch. ‘Grounded?’
Hitch looked her square in the eye. ‘Be more grateful,’ he said. ‘LB was ready to kick you off of the field training for good and always.’
‘Why? I cracked the case.’
‘You solved part of the case,’ said Hitch. ‘But you let the bad guys get away. And you nearly died in the process.’
‘Nearly dying is a sackable offence?’
‘Redfort, we can’t afford to lose good code breakers, nor for that matter agents. A lot of investment goes into training you up, plus you play fast and loose with your life and every last one of our lives is at risk.’
Ruby said nothing.
‘Besides,’ he said, ‘do you have any idea how difficult it is to find thirteen-year-old school kids who can crack a code?’
She looked at him. ‘Yeah right,’ she said.
They left Spectrum, and rode the elevator back to ground level and were once again in the Schroeder car park. They climbed into the car. ‘So who’s the idiot, anyway?’ asked Ruby.
‘What idiot?’ asked Hitch.
‘The idiot you were talking about when I arrived.’
‘You are if you think I’m blabbing to a school kid.’
‘Worth a shot,’ said Ruby.
‘Which is what Spectrum might think if I go ahead and repeat classified information without authorisation.’
‘They’d shoot you?’
‘They might consider it.’
‘Really?’
‘No Redfort, not really, at least I doubt it, but they might fire me.’
‘That would suck,’ she said.
Hitch nodded. ‘Yes, it would. I’d have to go and get a real job.’ He shuddered.
‘I’m sure my parents would keep you on.’
‘Yes,’ said Hitch. ‘That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.’
Meanwhile,
via a secure transmitter line,
a man and woman were
talking. . .
‘So you have the 8 key?’
‘No.’
‘No?’
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘It can’t be done.’
‘Everything can be done.’
‘You don’t understand, the subject has kept it safe. Security has been increased since I acquired the other two items—’
‘Why two items? I only instructed you to bring back one.’
‘I took something for myself. I saw it in their lab as I was leaving and thought I could use it.’
‘Use it for what?’
‘It’s personal.’
‘I’m not paying you to steal “useful” items for yourself, I don’t want you attracting attention by busting into labs and taking what you want.’
‘Relax, they won’t even know I took it, they won’t even know I was there.’
‘Just don’t get distracted Birdboy. You need to keep your eye on the ball.’
‘I’ll get what you want but you need to give me time.’
‘I don’t have time, I need it now!’
‘It’s not easy to access.’
‘Of course not, I wouldn’t need you if it was.’
‘It’s more difficult than I thought.’
‘I thought you were supposed to be brilliant?’
‘I thought you were supposed to be dead, Valerie.’
‘You see? Everything’s possible.’
‘Becoming undead is possible?’
‘It would seem so.’
Chapter 5.
‘HEY RUBE,’ SAID HER FATHER, LOOKING UP. He was in the living room and looking weary. He was lounging back in his chair, the one he liked to sit in if his day had been tough. Mr Barnaby Cleethorps had obviously been a handful. Hitch was mixing a drink at the bar.
‘Good trip to the dentist?’ asked Brant.
‘Uh?’ said Ruby. ‘The dentist? Umm. . .’
‘That’s OK honey, dumb question. When does one ever want to go to the dentist, right?’
‘When one has a cavity?’ said Ruby.
‘So you had a cavity?’ said her father.
‘False alarm,’ said Ruby, wondering why Hitch hadn’t briefed her about the ‘trip to the dentist’.
‘Hitch was with you the whole time, of course?’ her father asked anxiously.
‘Oh yeah, he was there all right.’ She flashed a look at Hitch. ‘Weasel,’ she mouthed.
Hitch handed Ruby a glass of lemonade, and whispered as he passed, ‘Just keeping you on your toes kid. Keep sharp and stay alive.’
‘What a lovely sentiment, I’ll be sure to write it in your next birthday card,’ hissed Ruby, giving him a death stare.
Brant Redfort looked at his watch. ‘Do you think supper’s ready?’
‘I hope so, I’m starving,’ said Ruby.
‘You didn’t eat lunch?’ Brant asked, alarmed.
‘Yeah, sure I did, I’m just sorta double hungry these days. Probably the healing process; one needs to eat twice as much.’
Brant Redfort looked troubled. ‘I’ll talk to your mother about it; can’t have my girl’s healing process compromised,’ he said, ruffling her hair. She tried not to growl at him – she hated the hair–ruffle thing – but her father looked so tired she didn’t want to give him a hard time.
‘So what else happened today?’ he asked.
‘The doc said I could finally get this lump of plaster sawn off,’ said Ruby, holding her cast up.
‘That’s swell news honey.’
‘I wanna do it as quick as possible,’ said Ruby. ‘Tomorrow would be good, you know what I’m saying?’
‘The Scarlet Pagoda! Absolutely. You’ll want to look your best for tomorrow night’s theatre fundraiser.’
‘That’s right Dad, looking my best is what I live for.’
‘Look, I’ll get onto Doctor Shepherd, I’ll bet he can wriggle you onto his list – get one of his guys to do it. I don’t want just anyone sawing into my Rube’s arm.’ He mussed her hair again and picked up the phone.
‘Hello Frank, Brant here. . . very well thank you! And you? . . .And Wallis? . . .And the kids? . . .And your parents? . . .Your sister Betty? . . .Glad to hear it. The thing is, Ruby needs a plaster cast removed pronto and I was wondering if you could slide her in tomorrow, get one of your best guys to do it? . . .Swell Frank, I appreciate it. I’ll wait to hear from you.’ He hung up. ‘Looks like you’re all set for tomorrow night’s costume shindig. All of fashionable Twinford will be turning out for it. And you know we Redforts have to be there looking a million dollars.’
Ruby did know. Her parents were nice – more than nice, they were very, very likeable, friendly, sociable, popular people. Take this Scarlet Pagoda fundraiser, for example. Mr and Mrs Redfort were right at the top of the invitation list. If they hadn’t been able to make the date then there was a good chance that the date would have been changed to fit with their social schedules. They were fun folk, influential, and they always gave generously.
Their daughter, Ruby, was also popular, but in a totally different way and for totally different reasons. For one thing, she did not go out of her way to be friendly. She was never wilfully unkind nor unfair, but she didn’t feel the need to be liked for the sake of being liked. She felt no motivation to be popular and perhaps for this very reason, she was. Magnetically so.
‘Thanks Dad,’ said Ruby, heading towards the stairs.
‘No problem,’ said Brant. ‘Soon that arm cast will be behind you and you’ll be back playing ping-pong with your pals.’
Brant Redfort was unaware that Ruby had been playing ping-pong with her pals and doing numerous other things she always did – she wasn’t going to let a broken arm cramp her style and she wasn’t afraid of a little pain.
Ruby went on up to her room, closed the door securely behind her and pulled at a wooden slat that concealed a secret compartment where she kept one of her yellow notebooks (the other 624 were hidden under the floorboards and not a living human soul had ever read one word of what she wrote). It was in these that she noted down everything of interest and anything that might one day be of interest. Her RULE 16 being EVEN THE MUNDANE CAN TELL A STORY and her RULE 34 being YOU NEVER KNOW WHEN SOMETHING IS GOING TO COME IN HANDY – this included seemingly useless information.
Picking up a pen, Ruby wrote:
What is the test I have to pass? How can I find out? Need to be prepared.
What were LB and Hitch talking about exactly? Something removed or possibly stolen? From a high-security location?
LB looked edgy, off her game. Why?
Ruby didn’t know the answers to any of these questions, but one thing was for sure – she was going to try to find out. There was no way she was going to put up with this whole grounded deal.
Later, at dinner, Ruby was listening to her parents discussing the proposed renovation of the Scarlet Pagoda. Tomorrow night’s party was in aid of this cause. There would be a high-end raffle and some of the prizes were quite spectacular; Sabina, for example, had her heart set on winning the Ada Borland portrait – Ada Borland being a world-famous photographer who had offered as one of the prizes the extreme honour of photographing the winner or their loved one. Sabina had bought approximately fifty-two raffle tickets to date.
Aside from this highlight, Sabina was in charge of commissioning the famous Twinford sculptor, Louisa Parker, to create a piece of art that might stand in the Japanese Garden in front of the theatre once the restoration work was completed. There had been much discussion between committee members about who the sculpture should represent. No one could agree, most feeling it should be either the person donating the largest sum of money to the theatre fund, or someone of influence in Twinford society, but everyone hoped the resulting sculpture would be a lot more attractive than Mayor Abraham’s recent statue, which loomed down from the Skylark Building and scared the living daylights out of everyone who saw it.
‘It should be a sculpture of someone who performed at the theatre during its heyday,’ said Sabina.
‘How about a star from a film shown there when it first became a movie theatre?’ suggested Brant.
‘Or,’ said Sabina, her eyes lighting up as the flicker of a very good idea came to her, ‘how about someone whose film was set in the Scarlet Pagoda and then later shown in the Scarlet Pagoda?’
‘You mean, thingy?’ said Brant.
‘Yes, what’s-her-name,’ agreed Sabina.
‘Yes, the film star being honoured this year. . .’ said Brant.
They both looked at Ruby.
‘Margo Bardem,’ said Ruby. ‘Her career began in the Scarlet Pagoda as an assistant hairdresser and make-up artist, she got spotted and stepped in to replace the main actress in her debut movie The Cat that Got the Canary, produced and directed by George Katsel, who later married Bardem. It was both filmed on location in the Scarlet Pagoda and premiered there in 1952.’
‘Ruby, you are like a sitting encyclopedia,’ said her mother, clapping her hands together.
‘I read the film festival publicity flyer,’ said Ruby.
‘I just hope we raise enough money to rescue that beautiful building,’ said Brant. ‘Can you imagine a Twinford without the Scarlet Pagoda?’
‘I’m not sure the wrecking ball wouldn’t be such an unwelcome idea for that old pile,’ said Mrs Digby, as she entered the room with a large casserole dish.
‘Oh Mrs Digby!’ exclaimed Sabina. ‘You surely don’t mean that.’
‘When you’ve grown up in a rotten falling-down old shack during the great depression, I tell you, you set your sights on something wipe-clean and fungus free.’
Sabina was speechless.
‘I’ll tell you something for nothing,’ said Mrs Digby, heaving the huge dish onto the table, ‘you wouldn’t get me stepping one little toe into that Scarlet Pagoda, no siree, thank you for asking.’
‘Why ever not?’ asked Sabina.
‘The spirit world is why not,’ said Mrs Digby folding her arms.
‘You’re not serious Mrs D? You surely don’t believe that old hokum about hauntings?’ said Brant.
‘Call it what you will, don’t expect me to be there.’
‘But you love those old movies,’ said Ruby. ‘Just think, you might even get the chance to meet some of your screen idols.’
‘I’m not risking it,’ said Mrs Digby. ‘I might find myself face to face with the paranormal.’
‘Are you for real?’ said Ruby. ‘You actually believe in all that?’
‘I most certainly do,’ said Mrs Digby. ‘Kicking and screaming is the only way you’ll drag me in there.’
‘So we can’t interest you in a free ticket to the costume show tomorrow night?’ asked Sabina.
‘You most certainly can’t,’ said Mrs Digby.
‘So who on earth should we invite at this short notice?’ said Sabina.
‘Ask Elaine Lemon,’ said Brant.
‘Good idea,’ said Mrs Digby. ‘She’d scare the pants off any ghoul going.’
At which point the telephone rang.
Ruby left the table and answered the phone. ‘Hello Clance,’ she said. He often phoned during supper: he couldn’t seem to get the hang of the fact that not everyone ate at the exact same time as his family.
‘Hey, how’d you know it was me?’ said Clancy.
‘Because I’m midway through dinner and you often call when I’m midway through dinner,’ replied Ruby. ‘It’s a probability thing. The likelihood is it will be you – you or Mrs Lemon.’
‘Is that so?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you want me to hang up?’
‘Not now you’ve already interfered with my whole digestive process.’
‘Oh, OK.’
‘So why did you call?’
‘I wondered if you had got my message?’
‘What message?’
‘The one I left in the tree.’
‘What did it say?’
‘Call me immediately.’
‘So obviously not.’
‘That’s what I thought.’
‘So why did you want me to call?’
‘To see if you might wanna meet up, no big deal or anything.’
‘Why didn’t you leave a message on my answer machine?’
‘I’m not sure.’ Pause. ‘Force of habit?’
‘Ruby honey,’ called her mother, ‘could you maybe replace the receiver and come back to the table. It’s such a shame when the family dinner is interrupted by the telephone. And it plays crazy potatoes with one’s digestion.’
‘You hear that Clance, now you’ve upset my mom’s digestive process too.’
‘Extend my apologies,’ said Clancy.
‘You can extend them yourself if you wanna come over?’
‘Nah, I feel like sitting up a tree.’
‘Look, how about I see you in twenty minutes on Amster Green. I need to get out, stretch my legs and get some decent conversation.’
‘I thought your folks wouldn’t let you out on your own?’ said Clancy.
‘I’ll bring Bug,’ said Ruby. ‘You know what they say, you’re never alone with a husky at your side.’
‘Who says that?’ muttered Clancy as he hung up the phone.
Ruby sat down at the table.
‘What’s that on your face?’ asked her mother. She was peering at her now, fork in hand, studying her daughter’s face. ‘Is it a bruise?’
‘Probably dirt,’ said Ruby. ‘I might go take a shower.’
But Sabina reached out her hand and began rubbing at Ruby’s cheek.
‘Ow,’ cried Ruby.
‘That’s not dirt,’ confirmed Sabina. ‘You’re probably anaemic, people bruise easily when they’re anaemic – and they become anaemic when their body is under stress.’
‘OK, OK, I promise I’ll stop being anaemic if you lay off rubbing my face,’ said Ruby.
‘A good healthy diet is what you need young lady. Plenty of. . . what’s it called, Brant.’
‘Iron,’ said Ruby.
‘I’ll order some in,’ said Sabina dropping her napkin and leaving the table. ‘Tomorrow is the Scarlet Pagoda costume benefit and I don’t want you looking like one of the exhibits.’
Chapter 6.
RUBY WAS RIGHT – her parents did agree to let her take a stroll with Bug at her side. It was of course ‘down to that dog’ that Ruby was alive at all.
If he hadn’t come running back to alert the fire crew to her plight then she wouldn’t be lying here today with a broken arm, injured foot and badly singed hair. Sabina had told all her friends the story of their hero dog. This account of Ruby’s rescue was true, of course, minus a few key details.
Ruby and her ever-loyal husky set off down Cedarwood Drive and at the corner turned right and joined Amster Street. On her way to the green, Ruby dropped by Marty’s minimart to pick up some bubblegum. Ordinarily she would carry a pack with her, but she had been unusually careless and her dad had found her stash of Hubble-Yum under the couch while she was in hospital getting her arm fixed up and had disposed of it. Her father was waging a one-man war against bubblegum.
Ruby came out of the minimart and noticed some kid with a styled-unstyled look – he was standing there with two other boys but he sort of looked like he might be waiting for someone. When she passed him he half turned around like he might say something to her, but he didn’t. Instead he jumped on his skateboard and grabbed the bumper of a passing truck and was carried off into the traffic.
It was kind of impressive – dangerous, sure – but practical in a cool sort of way. Skitching was something she needed to try.
When Ruby reached the green she looked up at the old oak and searched for some sign of Clancy. She could see the bike that had once been hers and was now his, but he was not visible. She whistled – two short, one long – and immediately the whistle came back, one long two short. He was already up high in the tree’s branches.
Bug lay down on the grass – he knew the deal – and he waited patiently while Ruby set about climbing. It took longer than usual, what with her arm trouble, but she was a good climber so she made it OK.
Ruby and Clancy Crew sat side by side on the old oak’s highest sitting branch. From here they looked down on Amster Green and its surrounding shops. The leaves were so plentiful that no one could see them from the sidewalk. The two of them used the tree not only for hanging out in, but also as a good place to hide coded messages for one another. Even if someone was smart enough to find the origami notes in the knots of the tree’s bark, they certainly wouldn’t be smart enough to decipher the ciphers.
The sun was still hot considering the time of day, so the foliage provided welcome shade. Though school summer vacation was nearly over, there was no sign of summer’s end or of fall’s beginning anywhere on the horizon – not a frost-curled leaf or a gusty breeze. Certainly no one yet believed that it was ever going to be any different, any cooler. It seemed no Twinforder could remember back to when the weather had been anything less than 30 degrees. It had been a remarkable summer. The best of it had meant beach time and barbecues and long social evenings, swimming in garden pools and hanging out late into the night, but no one could deny that this had come at a cost – the heat-wave had exhausted the city and left forests ravaged by fire. The fire services had been on red alert and crime had been a little higher too, something to do with the temperature boiling people’s minds, or so the psychologists said.
‘My mom doesn’t think the weather’s ever gonna break,’ said Clancy.
‘Yeah, well, your mom’s wrong,’ said Ruby.
‘Well, duh, of course I know that. I’m just making the point that it’s hard to imagine, it just seems so normal, being hot all the time, never having to remember a sweater, for instance.’
‘Yeah,’ said Ruby, ‘but any day now it’s gonna break and when it does, you’ll be needing more than a sweater.’ She itched her broken arm by sliding the yellow pencil under the cast and moving it from side to side.
‘I can’t wait that long,’ said Clancy.
‘Chew on some ice or something,’ suggested Ruby. ‘Oh boy, will I ever be glad to get this cast removed.’
‘When are they hacking it off?’ asked Clancy, who was hoping to be there when the nurse cut through the plaster with the electric saw thing.
‘Tomorrow,’ said Ruby. ‘They warned me when I had it put on that my arm might be all withered and hairy and not the same as the other one.’
Clancy stared at her, his mouth forming an O.
‘Don’t look so excited about it,’ said Ruby.
‘I wasn’t looking excited, I was looking interested. I mean mismatched arms – could be cool.’
‘Well, the hairiness is temporary.’
‘Shame,’ said Clancy. ‘Hey, have you been watching that show?’
‘What show?’
‘That illusionist guy, Darnley Rex,’ said Clancy. ‘He has a new show, you know, magic and stuff. Boy does it ever do your head in.’
‘It’s all about planting an idea in your brain. It’s all done with words, that’s what you gotta remember,’ said Ruby. ‘Before you know it, they have convinced your mind to think you are seeing something else or even are something else and the next thing you know you are clucking like a chicken.’
‘I sorta wish it was magic, though,’ said Clancy. ‘I mean I know it isn’t, but wouldn’t it be crazy if it was?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Ruby, ‘if Darnley Rex could get the whole country clucking like chickens then he could take over the world. Not a happy prospect.’
A minute passed before Clancy ventured, ‘So have they given you a medal yet?’
‘Who?’ said Ruby.
‘Spectrum, have Spectrum awarded you a medal?’
‘A medal for what?’ said Ruby.
Clancy looked puzzled. ‘For nearly being burnt alive in a forest fire, of course.’
‘Why would they do that? People don’t just go around getting medals for not getting burnt alive in forest fires, otherwise everyone and anyone would get one.’