She drifted down from sky to sidewalk, almost without incident, except for the final fifteen feet when the wind ripped one of the wings off, and had it not been for the dumpster full of garbage bags Ruby would have no doubt broken another limb.
She climbed elegantly out from her landing place, not easy to do when exiting a trash can, then she jumped from the top of the dumpster and landed with a perfect parkour roll.
People were bustling by, but few offered her more than a glance. A school kid had fallen from the sky, but Twinfordites took things in their stride, shrugged and walked on.
It was probably a stunt, something to do with the film festival – ignore and go about your business, it was no big deal.
Chapter 56.
THAT NIGHT THERE WAS A HUNT LED BY SPECTRUM to recover the invisibility skin, but given that it was impossible to see, it proved impossible to find. It was only when Ruby, unable to sleep, switched on the radio and caught a TTR five am news story about the theft of the mayor’s statue – which had seemingly gone missing from its Skylark Building plinth located just down the street from the Hotel Circus Grande – that she figured out what might have happened.
Not stolen, she thought. Just shrouded.
After all, the statue was heavy – compressed stone – and without a tow-truck, which no witnesses had seen, there was no way the mayor’s unfortunate likeness could have been carted out of there.
Tempting as it was to leave the skin exactly where it was, draped over the ugly statue, this would not be considered the right course of action for a Spectrum agent to take, and Ruby was working on her agent professionalism. So instead she took the subway straight there, while it was still dark, and retrieved the invisibility skin from the grip of the stone mayor.
Twinfordites were mightily disappointed to discover he had reappeared and was once again leering down at them from the Skylark Building.
‘Jeepers,’ winced Brant, ‘I thought that had gone for good.’
‘Oh my,’ said Sabina, ‘it sure could give a person nightmares, someone should throw a blanket over it.’
Chapter 57.
ON HER WAY BACK FROM DOWNTOWN, Ruby decided to pay Clancy Crew a visit; she thought he would get a big kick out of the invisibility skin. He did – he jumped about two feet into the air and it took him some time before he regained his composure.
‘Too bad we have to return it,’ said Clancy, who was still flapping his arms in disbelief.
‘I know,’ said Ruby, ‘but we do.’
Ruby was about to contact Hitch and tell him that she had located the skin, when she had an idea. It was one of those ideas that was so good that it was worth the risk of being exiled to a desert island or even jail for the rest of all time – or at least a few weeks. Ruby looked at Clancy.
‘Well. . .’ she said, ‘maybe we could hold onto it for a couple of hours. . .’
It was Saturday morning and they had a pretty good idea where Bailey Roach would be.
Sure enough, he was hanging out with his three friends in front of Marty’s minimart. Clancy and Ruby walked towards them, though as far as the gorilla boy and his gang were concerned, Clancy was alone.
‘Look who it is,’ he jeered, ‘Ruby Redfort’s little pal and he’s all by himself. . . not such the tough man now.’
The gorilla’s friends fell about laughing at that one. Bailey Roach really thought he was a funny guy. But Clancy just stood there looking at him. He said nothing at all and his face read blank. That bothered the gorilla. Why was this shrimpy kid not shaking in his shoes? Why was he not running or begging for mercy?
‘What’s your problem Crew, did I punch you a little too hard the other day? Did that yellow paint get all clogged inside your brain? Are you not all there?’
‘Oh, I’m sorry Bailey, I didn’t mean to make you nervous or anything,’ said Clancy, ‘I drifted off for a second.’
‘You wanna drift off Crew? I’ll make you drift off,’ said Bailey Roach, stepping closer.
‘Boy, your hair smells nice,’ said Clancy, ‘though I would imagine all that styling you do is a good deal of work. Your hair must take up a lot of your time. No wonder school is a challenge.’ A little muscle in Bailey Roach’s jaw was twitching, but Clancy Crew just went right on talking. ‘But you’re right, hair is important. I’ve heard it can really open doors. I mean, who needs brains when you have hair which says, I just stepped out of the salon?’
That was it, that last insult was the trigger. Bailey Roach lunged at Clancy, his right fist balled, ready for the punch but a strange thing happened, as he reached to grab the shrimp by his shirt, so he felt himself pulled backwards, then for no apparent reason that his gorilla friends could see, Bailey Roach fell over. How did the kid do it? Roach sprang to his feet and this time he aimed a kick at Clancy, the sort of kung-fu-style move that might have caused some damage had it actually met its target. But it didn’t, and instead the gorilla felt his leg grabbed by something, something that had to be, could only be paranormal activity. He completely lost his balance and went slap on his behind. His friends began to laugh.
‘Nice move Beetle,’ shouted one of them.
‘Yeah,’ said another, ‘you look like you got the skinny kid exactly where you want him.’
The gorilla glared at them and scrambled to his feet, his eyes narrowed. ‘You’re dead meat Crew.’ And then quite suddenly he ran at Clancy but Clancy stood his ground, the only move he made was to raise one hand in front of him like he was batting away a fly. But that was all it took because Bailey Roach, the gorilla of Twinford Junior High, was knocked right off his feet and sent sprawling to the ground.
The gorilla’s friends were impressed.
‘Are you like some kinda karate black belt, Crew?’
‘You look shrimpy but you got some moves, man.’
‘Kid, do you want to teach me that hand thing?’
But Clancy was done here. There was a donut with his name on waiting back at Marla’s diner, and he really couldn’t waste more time on these duh brains.
RUBY WAS SITTING AT HER DESK IN THE CODE ROOM, books and papers spread all around her, decoding devices of all sorts cluttering its surface, and yet she was making no progress.
None at all.
The door opened behind her but she didn’t turn around and it was only when she heard the sound of softly padding feet that Ruby actually looked up.
LB looked different today somehow. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, perhaps it was because she looked like she should get some sleep, but to Ruby her face looked less composed, as if one might actually have a chance of fathoming her thoughts.
‘Redfort,’ she said, ‘I find myself having to congratulate you, even though I have not the faintest idea what you were doing last night standing on a high wire between the Scarlet Pagoda and the Hotel Circus Grande.’
‘I can explain,’ offered Ruby.
‘I’d rather you didn’t,’ said LB. ‘Your explanations, I find, are very tedious and more often than not tend to lead to a severe headache, and I have left my aspirin in my office, so if you don’t mind let’s skip to the chase.’
‘OK with me,’ Ruby shrugged.
‘You did well to recover the skin, the Department of Defence are very grateful – this is not the sort of prototype one wants to land up in the wrong hands.’
‘So why didn’t they brief us all about it?’ asked Ruby. ‘It doesn’t make any sense not to, they want something recovered but refuse to tell anyone what we are meant to be looking for.’
‘I agree,’ said LB, ‘it doesn’t make any sense at all, and last night when I spoke to the officer who issued this directive he denied all knowledge of it.’
‘Meaning?’ said Ruby.
‘Meaning that he issued no such order, in fact he went as far as to say that he had particularly requested that all Spectrum 8 agents be fully briefed about the nature of the break-in and the prototype stolen. Which is odd because the message that came to us was that only senior agents should kno
w – agents even more senior than me.’
‘And the other thing that Claude stole?’ said Ruby. ‘What was it? I think I recognised it on the roof, I mean I saw it in your hand the other day when you were. . . um. . . you know, grounding me.’
‘The 8 key,’ said LB.
‘The 8 key?’ said Ruby.
‘A Spectrum 8 security coder,’ said LB. ‘It was stolen from my safe deposit box when I paid a visit to the DOD research lab. The safe box was inside the safe room. Which is code-protected. The theft of the invisibility skin explains how someone, I guess Claude Fontaine, whereabouts still unknown, was physically able to steal it, but it doesn’t explain how he knew what it was or where it would be. To know that would require. . . inside information.’
‘You think there’s a mole. . . in Spectrum?’
‘I don’t know,’ said LB, ‘but it’s looking more and more like maybe.’
‘The 8 key,’ said Ruby, ‘why would anyone want that? I mean, given that Spectrum just disable it the second they know it’s missing. . . I mean, I’m right aren’t I?’ said Ruby. ‘It’s useless once disabled?’
‘That’s correct,’ replied LB. ‘The 8 key is useless once disabled.’
There was something about LB’s reply that stuck in Ruby’s mind; it was very deliberate, as if she was trying not to say something.
‘So you’re not looking to retrieve it?’ she asked.
LB paused. ‘There’s something I need back,’ she said. ‘Not the 8 key itself, but the tag it’s attached to.’
‘Why is that important?’ asked Ruby.
‘It was mine,’ said LB. ‘I mean, always mine. I’ve had it since I was, well, very young. It was given to me by someone.’
‘Who?’ asked Ruby.
But LB was through with sharing. ‘It’s just a memento,’ she said, finally. ‘I want it back is all.’
Silence.
Neither of them said anything for a minute and then LB asked, ‘So what are you doing here anyway?’
Ruby sighed. ‘I still haven’t figured out those messages, the ones sent from the coder on my Escape Watch.’ She looked at LB. ‘I mean, I’m guessing you know about them?’
LB nodded, LB knew everything.
‘Hitch and Blacker received them and I can’t tie them into this recent case and I am no nearer to cracking them but, well, they have to mean something.’
‘Why?’ asked LB.
Ruby looked at her, puzzled. ‘Everything means something, right?’ she said. ‘At first I thought it must be to do with the skywalker, but now I’m guessing it wasn’t – so what if it’s in the hands of someone a whole lot worse?’
‘My guess is that you are correct, my guess would be that your watch is in the hands of someone a whole lot worse,’ said LB.
Ruby gulped, this was not the news she wanted to hear.
‘But,’ continued her boss, ‘have you considered that perhaps this individual doesn’t want anything?’
‘I’m not following,’ said Ruby, who really wasn’t following.
‘Let’s start with a simple one. Where exactly did you last see the Escape Watch?’
‘I had it the night I first spotted the skywalker. I remember, because that’s the night I returned to the Thompsons’ apartment. I know I shouldn’t have been there, but I had to see if I could find that card.’
‘These would be the Thompsons on Avenue Walk – they reside in the Warrington Apartments?’
‘Yeah, that’s them.’
‘The parents of Nileston?’
‘Yeah.’ Ruby didn’t get why LB was going on and on about the Thompsons. She was beginning to sound like the Twinford Echo.
‘And where exactly did you find the calling card?’ asked LB.
‘It showed up in the toy box, a big wicker hamper basket,’ said Ruby. ‘The thief wouldn’t have meant it to be there, but the kid musta crawled off with it – it was right there underneath a whole lot of plastic junk.’
‘You, I guess, had to rummage through this, when you searched for the card, am I right?’
‘Yes, it took a while but I found it under Mr Potatohead.’
‘Exactly.’
‘Exactly what?’
‘I think that clears up that mystery.’ LB turned to leave.
‘I don’t want to be the one who says I don’t get it, but I don’t get it,’ said Ruby.
LB sighed. ‘Redfort, I think you need to get some sleep, you’re really not at the top of your game. Do you really need me to spell it out?’
Ruby blinked dumbly. So LB continued.
‘I think it’s safe to assume that you lost your watch in Nileston’s toy hamper and therefore unless Mr Potatohead has taken up spy work, it’s likely that Nileston was the one sending those “coded” messages.’
‘What? You’re saying that two-year-old kid is sending encrypted messages to Spectrum agents?’
‘No Redfort, I’m not saying that at all. Use your noodle for five minutes – this kid has got a hold of your watch and has somehow, via a series of random button-pressing moves, accessed the coder function and is sending gobbledegook to anyone and everyone you have ever been in touch with. I myself received one. You have been failing to see the gorilla here. Don’t overthink things, that should be a rule of yours.’
Ruby’s mouth fell open. After all it was a rule of hers, RULE 71: WHEN IN DOUBT, THINK THE OBVIOUS.
‘This isn’t code,’ said LB, ‘these are the random fiddlings of a dribbling toddler.’
Ruby slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand.
‘Oh quit giving yourself a hard time kid,’ said LB as she walked to the door. ‘It happens to us all. Gorillas, elephants, they’re all easy to miss in a place like Spectrum, and I happen to know you’re pretty good at spotting gorillas.’
She was in the corridor and walking back towards the elevator before she called out, ‘You should get some sleep Redfort – you start training on Monday.’
RUBY TOOK THE ELEVATOR BACK UP TO THE SCHROEDER UNDERGROUND PARKING LOT. When the doors opened, she was met by a familiar face.
‘I thought you could use a ride,’ said Hitch. ‘Where can I take you – home?’
Ruby glanced at Hitch’s watch.
She sighed.
‘The Humberts’ place,’ she said.
‘You sure about that, kid?’
‘It’s Quent’s birthday, for some reason I feel I gotta be there.’
Hitch looked at her, really looked at her. Was she kidding? No, she wasn’t kidding.
‘You’re a better kid than I had you down for, Redfort.’
‘It’s a superhero theme,’ said Ruby. ‘I don’t suppose I could borrow. . .’
Hitch looked at her, one eyebrow raised – the look said, you must be out of your mind.
‘So what am I gonna wear?’ asked Ruby.
‘Ah,’ said Hitch, ‘just go as yourself, kid.’
MARGO BARDEM ANNOUNCES:
I OWE IT ALL TO THE LITTLE CANARY!
Ms Bardem announced that the subject of the much-anticipated Louisa Parker sculpture will be, The Little Canary, in honour of the circus acrobat and tightrope walker, the original Celeste.
The artwork will stand outside the Scarlet Pagoda (now saved from demolition) and will be a worthy tribute to Celeste Fontaine, the Little Canary of Twinford.
Margo Bardem said, ‘It is only right that this artist be celebrated. She caught the attention of kings, poets and the people. She felt the love and applause of all who saw her – it is high time she was made visible again.’
THINGS I KNOW:
....................................
The Count is out there somewhere,
and he has the 8 key.
The Count knows Lorelei von Leyden.
LB has a lot of experience of babies.
THINGS I DON’T KNOW:
....................................................
WHY the Count took the 8 key when he
must kno
w it’s been deactivated.
Whether Claude is alive.
What it is about that key tag that makes it
so important to LB.
If there’s a mole in Spectrum.
Ruby Redfort
*
Braille is the most famous code that is read by using your sense of touch. Each letter is represented by a series of raised dots arranged in a 2 by 3 grid. For example, here is Ruby’s name in Braille:
Although Braille is aimed at helping rather than hiding communication, the idea for the code came from a secret touch code developed by Napoleon’s army at the beginning of the nineteenth century. Called a night code, the dots allowed soldiers to communicate at night-time without a light.
Both Braille and the Napoleonic night code use something called binary notation. When you apply your fingers to each position of the matrix you can either feel a dot or no dot. Computers use the same idea, where dots are replaced by switches that are either ‘on’ or ‘off’. The digital revolution has turned words, pictures, tweets and emails into a series of 0s and 1s.
It was the seventeenth-century German mathematician Gottfried Leibniz who was the first to realise the power of 0s and 1s as a good way of coding information. Ordinarily, when we write numbers down we count in powers of ten. The number 234 represents 4 single ‘units’, 3 tens and 2 hundreds. The choice of ten relates to the fact that we have ten fingers. (Presumably the cartoon characters in the Simpsons who have eight fingers count in powers of eight rather than ten.) We call this ‘decimal notation’ and it needs ten symbols to make it work: 0, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 and 9.
Leibniz realised, though, that if you used powers of two rather than powers of ten you could get away with just two symbols: 0 and 1. This is called binary notation. So the number 110101 stands for, reading from right to left: one unit, no 2s, one 4, no 8, one 16 and one 32; making 1 + 4 + 16 + 32 = 53.
Braille and the Napoleonic night code are actually examples of binary codes done in a touch format, where 1s and 0s are replaced by raised dots or no dots.