‘You too,’ said Del.
‘Enjoy,’ Sal called, turning to walk away.
Ruby and Del played until their time was up, when they went back to the counter and handed the bats and balls over to Sal, who was sitting on top of it, chatting to the guy who had just taken over her shift.
‘So are you still sore about missing the Explorer thing?’ asked Del.
‘I’m trying not to think about it,’ said Ruby, ‘so could you stop bringing it up?’
‘But there were some really cool people there, right?’
‘I guess if you consider a person who walked on the moon cool, and a person who happens to have swum with a polar bear cool, and a woman who has discovered the rarest snake known to humankind cool, then yes,’ said Ruby, ‘I missed a lot.’
‘Sorry!’ said Del.
‘Would you stop saying sorry!’ said Ruby.
Sal, who was busy lacing her purple Dash sneakers, was looking at them with an expression of amusement. ‘Sounds like you guys have some issues,’ she said.
‘You have no idea,’ said Ruby.
Ruby walked into the house exactly when she was expected to walk into the house. Her mother looked up from the paper she was reading, the headline: IS THERE A TORNADO ON THE WAY?
Ruby poured herself a glass of water, took out her schoolbooks and sat down to study, just like she was the model kid.
Sabina Redfort smiled. ‘You know Ruby, forget this whole grounding thing, you’ve done your time.’
That was all very well, but it wasn’t going to get her out of Lemon duty – Elaine had her down for at least three hours of it on Saturday.
THAT SATURDAY, RUBY BEGAN HER DAY WITH SOME AIKIDO PRACTICE. This was followed by a trip to the Diner; she thought she might as well celebrate her newfound freedom, as it wasn’t going to last – she would be picking up baby Lemon in an hour.
Del and Ruby were sitting in the Donut, two hot chocolates in front of them and toes like ice blocks. They were discussing the weather and what effect it might have on the Halloween festivities.
‘The tornado has been cancelled,’ said Del.
‘What do you mean cancelled?’ said Ruby.
‘There isn’t going to be one,’ said Del. ‘It was on the news.’
‘The news doesn’t get to decide if there’s going to be a tornado or not,’ said Ruby.
‘Well, the weather office then,’ said Del. ‘Apparently the conditions are all wrong for tornadoes so we are off the hook.’
‘I would just like to remind you that tornadoes can strike in any conditions – scientists are still struggling to understand what triggers them.’
‘Is that Begwell out there?’ said Del looking out of the window. ‘She better not come in here.’
‘Why?’ asked Ruby. ‘Is this your private diner?’
‘No, but it’s my patch,’ said Del.
‘You sound like a gangster.’
The bell jangled and a few more people bundled in.
Del looked up. ‘Hey, isn’t that the new girl from the table tennis cafe?’ Ruby turned to look. ‘Yeah, you can’t miss those purple Dash sneakers.’
‘Boy, Back-Spin must pay its staff well, those sneakers cost a bunch,’ said Del. ‘Maybe she could get me a job.’
‘Maybe she just has a rich mom and dad,’ said Ruby.
‘She doesn’t,’ said Del.
‘How do you know?’ said Ruby. ‘Her accent and that whole “I could use the dough” thing she has going, I’ll bet it’s a cover.’
‘A cover for what?’ said Del.
‘For the fact that she’s some rich kid from uptown and she wants to be all, you know, downtown East Twinford.’
‘You’re full of it,’ said Del, ‘just envious because she’s street cool.’
‘What?’ said Ruby.
‘Hey, Sal,’ called Del, ‘you wanna join us?’
The girl turned, looked at them as if trying to figure how she knew them and then smiled a huge smile.
‘Del and Ruby, right?’ said Sal. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Arguing,’ said Del.
Sal frowned.
‘Don’t worry, it’s normal,’ said Ruby.
Del nodded. ‘Anyway, it’s good to see you. I thought Vapona Begwell was going to walk through the door, which wouldn’t have been pretty. She and I haven’t been seeing eye to eye lately, if you know what I’m saying.’
‘Is that how you got the busted hand?’ said Sal, looking at Del’s bandaged wrist.
‘No,’ said Ruby, ‘but it’s how I ended up with a flattened nose.’
‘Bummer,’ said Sal.
‘She’s OK,’ said Del, ‘just likes to whine.’
‘Yeah?’ said Ruby. ‘I’m the one who’s gonna wind up sweeping the streets of Twinford.’
‘How’s that?’ asked Sal.
‘It’s what tends to happen when the cops pick you up for disorderly conduct,’ said Ruby.
‘Cool,’ said Sal.
‘Not really,’ said Ruby.
‘There was a fight,’ said Del. ‘A big one.’ She was showing off now.
‘So a lotta you guys in trouble?’
‘No, just me,’ said Ruby.
‘How come no one else got squeezed?’ said Sal.
‘They ran,’ said Ruby. ‘I was not, strictly speaking, expecting to wind up in the middle of a fist fight, so I wasn’t exactly dressed for the occasion, nor for running like stink in the other direction.’ She directed this at Del.
‘Doesn’t that kinda tick you off,’ asked Sal, ‘you taking the rap for something you never did?’
‘All part and parcel of being a friend of Lasco’s,’ said Ruby, thumping her friend on the arm.
‘She’s a good pal,’ said Del, returning the punch.
‘I guess she must be,’ said Sal, looking at Ruby.
Ruby was just pushing Archie Lemon on the swing for about the five-hundredth time – that’s what her arm felt like, anyway – when something scarlet red caught her eye. She turned to see a red hat bobbing across Harker Park towards the east gate. From that distance it was hard to tell if it was the same guy who she had seen the other day, but then again men in scarlet woollen hats weren’t exactly commonplace, and if it was him then Ruby wanted to ask him some questions. So she pulled the surprised baby from the swing and snapped him into his sling, pulled on her backpack, zipped up her parker and began to fast walk down the parallel path.
The man was just far enough ahead to tail without difficulty. However, once he reached the street he stuck out his hand to hail a taxi, which meant Ruby had to break into a run.
‘Boy, Lemon, what have you been eating? You seem heavier than you did last week.’
As the man stepped into a car, so Ruby got lucky.
‘Where to?’ said the driver.
‘Follow that cab,’ said Ruby.
‘If I had a dime for the number of times I’ve heard that line,’ said the driver.
The cab in front was driving northeast towards College Town, which was part of old Twinford – an area designed some seventy years ago by one of the university professors, a mathematician called Hugo Hennessey who had worked with an architect to create the university campus. At its centre was a park called Star Park, on account of its symmetrical eight-pointed-star shape, and nearly all the streets were named after numbers or mathematical theories.
The car finally pulled up in front of an old gothic building. Ruby didn’t spend much time in this part of town, but she had attended the occasional lecture so knew this to be one of the many ivy-clad buildings which made up the University of Twinford. Ruby stepped out, paid her fare and kept a close eye on the red hat. The man was climbing the well-worn steps to the university’s Erskine building. Ruby picked up the pace.
The man’s shoes clicked loudly on the granite floors, up stairways, down stairways and along what seemed like miles of corridors. He exited the Erskine building through the south door, crossed the courtyard planted with lime t
rees and entered the music school, a newly built structure and one which had caused a great deal of controversy, since it had meant the destruction of the old comb building. Twinford was once famed for its comb industry, making both plain, inexpensive combs and combs for the luxury market, in tortoise-shell and mother-of-pearl for those who could afford it. John Micklebacker III, the great comb magnate, had bequeathed the grand building to the university in his will.
Once inside, the man strode towards the cafeteria, looked around, and having spied the chiller cabinet, reached behind the rows of canned drinks and pulled out a familiar-looking bottle.
Ruby’s eyesight was by no means good, in fact it was lousy, but even she could make out the vague shape of the cartoon kid with black hair, and white-toothed smile.
Taste Twister.
The man didn’t bother waiting in line to pay for the drink, instead he casually popped it up his sleeve and threaded his way back through the crowded cafeteria before exiting unnoticed by all but Ruby.
Why didn’t he pay? thought Ruby. This intrigued her; it didn’t fit with what she thought might happen. He wasn’t even bothering to taste this drink, and where was he headed now?
This guy most definitely knew where he was going. He was moving at speed, up more stairs and along a corridor of practice rooms. Ruby heard sounds of cello, trumpet, flute, piano, as she passed. The man’s footfall was less easy to follow now, since the building was designed to absorb sound and Ruby, who was keeping a safe distance, very nearly lost him when stairways split and corridors became other corridors.
But she was lucky – just as she was about to concede defeat, Ruby caught a flash of scarlet as the man disappeared through the concert theatre’s swing doors. She wasn’t so sure if she wanted to follow him into the theatre, her mood about the adventure had changed. It didn’t seem like so much fun any more, but then again, if she didn’t go in then she might never know.
And look, she told herself, the baby’s asleep and you’re a trainee field agent and this is what field agents do.
So she crept through the doors, crouching low behind the rows of steep raked seating, Archie Lemon still peacefully sleeping in his sling on her chest. To her surprise she heard voices – the man was not alone, he was talking to someone, another man. She couldn’t see him from where she crouched, but he sounded like a bit of a meathead as far as she could tell. The acoustics were very good as one would expect in a music theatre and each word rang out clearly.
‘I’m Leo …’ said the meathead she couldn’t see.
‘Names are for amateurs, Leo,’ said the man in the red hat. His accent: Australian.
‘I just thought …’
‘I have no interest in sending you a postcard, so why would I need to know your pathetic name?’
‘Forget about it.’
‘I plan to.’
‘So I heard there might be a job for me – what is it?’
‘My boss is looking for someone – here.’ There was the sound of paper being torn as a piece was ripped from a spiral-bound notebook. ‘He’s gone AWOL you see.’
Ruby peeped over the seatback. She had a good vantage point, the room was in darkness and the stage lit by just one spotlight.
‘So who is this Marshall guy?’ asked the meathead.
‘It doesn’t matter who he is,’ said the Australian guy. ‘All you have to do is track him down, and when you find him, well, eliminate him.’ He flipped the top off the bottle. He did exactly what he had done last time, breathed in the aroma and took a swig. He said nothing for a few seconds before jotting something in his notebook.
‘Is that drink speaking to you?’ said the meathead.
‘Now how would it do that?’ sneered the man. As he walked down the steps he placed the bottle under the spotlight centre stage, like it was a prop in some performance. ‘I have to get going,’ he said moving back through the audience seating. ‘Places to be, you know.’
‘No other message or nothing?’ said Leo. ‘From your boss, I mean.’
The guy in the red hat paused, stopping at the end of the row where Ruby crouched.
‘Oh yeah, she did say one thing, I seem to remember her exact words were, “Sweetie, if this chump messes up then feel free to take him out.” I don’t think she was suggesting a dinner date by the way, Leo, and you should be in no doubt that she never makes idle threats.’ His footsteps resumed; there was a swish of swing doors, and he was gone.
Ruby had turned very cold, the word sweetie had reminded her of one person, one very deadly person. Like most people, Ruby had a whole string of individuals she would prefer not to have to see again, but this person was not on that list, this person was on one very short list, a list comprising people she never ever wanted to see again, nor even hear about in passing. This was because the previous time Ruby had encountered her, this person had tried to kill her. On that occasion Ruby had stared into her steel blue eyes and been sure that she was about to die. Now it seemed she was back.
The Australian woman.
Who, it seemed, had an Australian henchman in a red hat doing her dirty work for her.
It was time to get out of there. Ruby began to crawl towards the door and then she remembered the Taste Twister drink. It meant something – he’d noted something down after tasting it – and she needed to know what. She sighed. She was going to have to wait until the meathead called Leo left the stage. He was taking his time about it, reading whatever was written on that scrap of paper.
Come on, thought Ruby, split why don’t you, then we can all go home.
She realised why he was hanging around when she heard a second man.
‘Hey, Leo, you get your orders?’
‘Yeah, he thought he was some kinda hard nut, British I think.’
Ruby figured Leo didn’t watch enough international TV: if he had, that Australian accent would have been unmissable.
Goon number two sat down.
I don’t believe it, she thought, now they’re gonna have a little heart to heart about some murder plan?
‘So, Leo, the money’s good?’
‘Yeah, and what she wants us to do, it’s a piece of cake.’
There was no way of grabbing that bottle, not while these two creeps were hanging around, so she waited and hoped that Archie was as patient as she was.
At last Ruby heard the creaking of wood as the men stood.
‘Come on Bruno, let’s get outta here.’
They walked down the stage steps and were just making their way back up through the tiered seating, in fact had almost reached the large swing doors, when the worst thing happened – Archie woke up.
‘DID I JUST HEAR A BABY?’ said the first guy.
‘Couldna been,’ said the second.
Now they were both listening.
Ruby was feeling around for Archie’s pacifier: where is it, darn it? She pulled it from her pocket and was just fumbling to pop it in the baby’s little mouth when it slipped from her fingers and bounced under one of the seats.
Archie began to wail. No mistaking that.
‘So it seems we have an audience,’ said the first guy. ‘Are you a baby all on your lonesome or do you have company?’ As he talked they moved, Goon One seemed to be trying to distract Ruby while Goon Two was trying to figure out exactly where she was hiding – for a man so hulking he was very light on his feet.
‘Come out, come out, wherever you are!’ called Goon One.
Jeepers Archie, now see what you’ve done … Her urge was to run, to sprint to the door. Six seconds Ruby, take six seconds and breathe. Keeping her cool, she reached far under the seat, patted the floor with her hand, found the pacifier, placed it in Archie’s angry mouth – instant quiet. Better, now she could think. If she stayed put, it was just a matter of time before this second light-footed goon found her and dragged her out – by her hair, no doubt.
Ruby could hear the guy feeling around for something, the lights most probably. She had no idea where the other one had
got to since he was keeping quiet.
‘Let’s get outta here Archie,’ whispered Ruby. She moved stealthily and speedily towards the front. She flew up the steps to the stage, grabbing the Taste Twister bottle as she went.
Then vwoom – dazzling white as every spotlight in the theatre came on.
For a few seconds she was blinded, shielding her face with her arm and Archie with her coat. Where to go? She was staring at the floor since it was the only place she could look. A small brass ring lay there glinting on the wooden boards. Not a ring but a handle – a handle to the trapdoor!
Holding the Taste Twister bottle in one hand, she lifted the trapdoor back and slipped down under the stage, quietly pulling it shut after her. She heard footsteps on the stage above, one of the goons was running this way and that trying to figure out where she could have gone. The other was shouting.
Ruby thought about RULE 19: PANIC WILL FREEZE YOUR BRAIN. So she stood very still and counted.
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
Now she felt calmer.
First: put that drink in your backpack. Second: contact Hitch.
She depressed the button on the fly barrette and hoped that Hitch would hear her.
‘Where did she go?’ said Goon One.
‘Beats me, just disappeared,’ said Goon Two.
He stopped when he saw the door.
He’s figured it out, she whispered in baby Lemon’s ear. ‘I’m beginning to wish we’d stayed home watching A is for Ant.’ The baby looked at her; he was still sucking on the pacifier and looked unduly calm.
Ruby felt around for the other door out of there, the door in the wall that would lead to the back-stage steps. Don’t panic, she told herself, take it easy. It was pitch black down there and they were not alone; the goon had dropped through the boards and was now down there with them.
‘I know you’re here,’ he whispered.
Ruby’s fingers found a catch, she yanked and the door opened and she slipped through, pulling it closed behind her.
‘I hear you,’ called the goon.
Ruby ran up the steps as fast as she could. To the side in the wings was a fixed metal ladder – this she climbed. Now she was high above the stage with the cables and lights and wires, all hitched this way and that to scaffolding. Ruby tiptoed across one of the poles that held the lights. A tiny voice issued from the fly barrette. ‘You in trouble?’