by Lauren Child
Ruby tapped the transmit button on the fly: long-short-long-short, the Morse code for C, the universal shorthand for “yes”.
The tiny voice came back.
‘I have you on my radar kid. I’m maybe a half mile away, hang tight, I’m almost with you.’
OK, thought Ruby, all we gotta do is inch our way over here into that dark space and wait for Hitch. She began crawling across the steel framework, but Archie, now asleep, let the pacifier slip from his mouth and go spinning through the air. It hit the deck and the goon looked up.
‘Ah, there you are. You wanna come down or do you wanna make me climb? I should probably tell you, too much exertion always puts me in a bad mood.’
‘Uh oh, he’s spotted us,’ hissed Ruby.
‘What do you mean, us?’ asked Hitch.
‘Uh me, I mean me.’
‘Can you get out of there?’
‘I think so.’
‘Well, get out of there.’
‘I’m going to have to fly.’
‘So fly.’
‘I’ll probably have to sort of jump.’
‘Kid, if you’re about to confess that you’ve suddenly developed a fear of heights then this isn’t a good time.’
‘That’s not what I’m saying, it’s just the thing is I have—’
‘Would you get outta there!’
The words came out as an order, albeit a very quiet and tinny one.
Parkour with a baby was one thing – probably not a very good one thing – but parkour with a baby and a couple of, no doubt violent, goons on your tail was another.
‘You know what,’ shouted Goon One, ‘I think I’ll wait down here, see if my pal Bruno can’t shake the tree a bit. I’ll try and catch you, but I gotta warn you, everyone says I’m a bit of a butter-fingers.’
Ruby held her breath and waited until Goon Two had reached the lights, then she leapt, catching hold of a rope in her right hand, swinging across the stage, catching a second rope in her left, her body low enough that as she flew towards Goon One she could bend her legs and kick, DOOF, he was down – and, it looked like, out.
She let go of the rope, dropped to the floor and ran, leaping from the stage and sprinting over the seat backs. Goon Two had no idea why his pal, Leo, was lying spread-eagled on the stage, but he wasn’t losing time thinking about it and he was a lot more agile than he looked. At this precise moment, Ruby could have done without the extra weight that was Archie. He didn’t weigh a ton, but when you were quietly trying to escape from a pair of murderous villains then it was better to be free of all burdens, babies especially.
Gotta lose the Lemon, she thought. She climbed up to the balcony seating and vaulted over in one easy move. Then, crouching low so she was hidden from view, she undid the sling and looked around her for a safe place to deposit the baby. There was a high-sided box full of concert programmes, tall enough that he couldn’t get out or be seen. She clicked off the fly barrette just for a minute.
‘Sorry to do this to you Lemon,’ she said as she emptied out the box and placed him in it. He didn’t look like he minded, just smiled up at her. ‘Now look, I gotta leave you for a few minutes.’ He looked like he was going to start grizzling. ‘Don’t start that up again Archie, you’re gonna get us both into some serious horse manure if you open that tiny mouth of yours.’ The baby was looking at her watch, reaching one small hand towards it.
‘You have to be kidding,’ she hissed. ‘You know this is a serious piece of gadgetry – belonged to Bradley Baker, agent of agents – and all you’re gonna do is stick it in your mouth. Am I right or am I right?’ But what choice did she have? ‘Darn it, Lemon!’ She took the watch off and handed it to him and he put it in his mouth. Ruby rolled her eyes. ‘OK, so suck on that while I go trip up the mean guy.’
She switched the fly barrette back on. ‘Kid, what happened? I thought I’d lost you there.’
‘No, still right here,’ hissed Ruby.
‘Come out, little girl,’ threatened the heavy, ‘or I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll tear this place apart.’
Ruby had to draw him away from Archie so she ran as fast as she could along the balcony rail and jumped right down in front of him. She was facing him now. He was approximately six foot five in stocking feet, and she was, well, she was a whole lot shorter. Maybe a foot and a half shorter. He smirked an ugly smirk when he saw her there. ‘Oh please, this is too easy,’ he said.
He went to grab her but she dodged him. He laughed and lunged at her, but still she avoided his reach. Less pleased, he lashed out; she ducked. He pitched forward, grabbed her arm, but she knew just what to do – using his own momentum she executed a perfect kotegaeshi, twisting on the spot while using her other hand to push on his neck, flipping him in the air to land heavily on his back.
The man’s expression went from puzzlement to fury. He sprang to his feet, spun round to deliver a karate kick, but Ruby turned her body sideways and tilted backwards, and his attack made no contact. He ran at her, swinging his fist, and this time she caught his hand, pushed her leading knee forward and somersaulted him over in a textbook tenchi nage.
He hit the ground with his back, even harder this time. He lay there gasping for breath. He couldn’t get up or stagger, let alone run.
The other goon was still out cold. She wasn’t going to wait for him to come round. Don’t push your luck Redfort, get out while the going’s good – so she did. She climbed up to the balcony, picked baby Lemon out of the box, strapped him back into the sling and ran for the exit. As she did so, she tapped the fly barrette. ‘I’m safe,’ she said.
‘And the bad guys?’
‘Out for the count.’
‘Nice going kid. Now get out of there. You can tell me the story once I’ve got them safely tucked up in jail.’
Out in the fresh air, she breathed deep. The adrenaline was still coursing through her and her heart still beating so fast that she needed to steady herself, her hand reaching out for the trunk of one of the sturdy old lime trees which had stood in the university courtyard for a reassuringly long time. When at last she regained her breath, she looked down at the baby.
‘Are you OK Lemon?’ she asked. Her heart was racing. She touched his face. He was sleeping so soundly that he barely stirred. He looked utterly serene, the rescue watch still clutched in his fat hand. ‘I guess goons and murderers don’t exactly bother you.’
At the women’s
correctional
facility …
… they tossed the escaped prisoner’s cell, as they always did after a breakout.
There was nothing in the little cupboard.
Nothing under the bed.
But there was something hidden inside the mattress.
A book.
A book filled with colourful descriptions of what the prisoner intended to do to some un-named enemy, if she ever caught her.
‘This makes for some pretty unpleasant reading,’ said the prison warden.
‘Who do you think she had it in for?’
‘I don’t know. Could be her mother, her sister, her childhood friend, perhaps it’s some poor sap who simply had the grand misfortune to bump into her one day. But I’ll say this – whoever it might be, I wouldn’t want to be in her shoes.’
‘Should we contact the cops?’
‘I think this might be a job for the FBI,’ said the warden. He picked up the book and shook his head. ‘Honest to goodness, what’s written here is enough to give me sleepless nights for the rest of time.’
RUBY STAYED UP LONG AFTER HER PARENTS HAD GONE TO BED. She sat there in the dim light of the kitchen, waiting for the sound of Hitch’s car in the driveway. Bug kept her company, his nose resting on her feet. When Hitch finally walked in, he poured himself a drink and joined her there in the semi-darkness.
‘You OK kid?’
‘Yeah, but my arm kinda aches, that creep twisted it practically in two.’
‘Looks like you got the better of him.’
‘You got him?’ said Ruby.
‘Got them both … impressive for such a small kid.’
‘Yeah, well, they underestimated me.’
‘Maybe they got distracted by the baby.’
‘What baby?’
‘One of them kept mumbling something about a baby.’
‘Probably suffering from concussion; he did hit the deck real hard.’
‘That’s probably it,’ said Hitch. ‘So do you mind filling me in a little, I think I’m missing something.’
‘I saw the red hat guy again in Harker Park, the one I spotted looking at the billboard.’
‘The Taste Twister thing?’
‘Yeah,’ said Ruby, ‘so I followed him. I was just curious, I wanted to know if Clancy was right.’
‘About what?’ asked Hitch.
‘Well, see, he has this theory that the Taste Twister billboards are some sophisticated advertising ploy to get all of Twinford desperately searching for Taste Twister drinks.’
Hitch raised an eyebrow. ‘Why would they do that?’
‘To make the brand seem cool or something,’ said Ruby. ‘But anyway, I thought I’d follow this guy in the red hat, see if he located another bottle and then ask him straight out.’
‘So what happened?’
‘Well he did find another bottle, it was in the music school canteen,’ said Ruby, ‘but he didn’t taste it then and there, he carried it off, which is why I followed and we both ended up in the concert hall. He took a slurp, wrote something down and headed off.’
‘So where’s the bottle?’ asked Hitch.
‘Oh, I got it,’ she patted her backpack. ‘I just hope it’s worth it because it wasn’t easy to come by, you know.’
‘Bring it in to Spectrum and let’s see what SJ and Blacker make of it.’
‘There’s more,’ she said she paused, took a breath. ‘It also turns out he is some kind of assassin.’
‘What?’ said Hitch.
‘Those goons you arrested, they’re after Baby Face Marshall.’
‘You heard them say that?’
‘Yeah. The red hat guy just hired them to rub him out.’
Hitch rolled his eyes. ‘Rub him out?’
‘OK, end his life,’ said Ruby, dramatically. ‘But the point is, the orders didn’t come directly from him. The orders came from his boss.’
‘And who’s his boss?’
‘The Australian,’ said Ruby.
‘He said so?’ asked Hitch, suddenly sitting up very straight.
‘Well, not exactly,’ said Ruby, ‘but he quoted her and the words sounded exactly like words she would use. You know how I told you she called me “sweetie” in this really creepy “I’m going to kill you yet I’m talking to you in this really soft mom voice” voice? Plus the red hat guy, he was Australian.’
Hitch was looking less convinced. ‘This isn’t exactly overwhelming evidence you have here.’
‘I swear, I’m sure it’s gotta be her.’
‘Well, whoever this guy’s boss is, she doesn’t sound like someone you’d want to run into, so I’m going to go in and see if I can get some more information from your two meathead friends, and then maybe we’ll have something to go on. And kid, get some sleep would you, you look kind of beat.’
‘I’m sure I’ll sleep like a baby,’ she said.
Blacker was waiting for her when Ruby arrived at Spectrum the next morning.
‘Hitch filled me in,’ he said as they walked to the lab. ‘Are you finding trouble or is trouble finding you?’
SJ looked a little fraught.
Blacker sniffed the air. ‘What’s that smell?’
‘That’ll be my hair,’ said SJ. ‘Some dufus somehow mixed the labels on my test samples and my shampoo.’ She caught sight of the bottle in Ruby’s hand. ‘More possibly poisoned beverages?’
‘Yeah,’ said Ruby. ‘I mean, I doubt it is. Actually I think the bottle contains some kind of code.’
SJ looked puzzled.
‘I think it’s contained in the taste? Or rather the flavours,’ she said. ‘When the guy sipped it he seemed to be analysing it, trying to decipher what was in it, and once he figured it out, he wrote it down.’ She paused before remembering, ‘Oh yeah, and there’s what’s printed on the reverse of the label, you can see it through the liquid – FOUR GREAT TASTES SINCE 1922. I’m sure it means more than what it seems to mean, if you know what I mean?’
Blacker and SJ were just looking at her; it was disconcerting.
‘Am I rambling?’ she asked.
‘Only a little,’ said Blacker, ‘but I follow you.’
‘That’s good,’ said Ruby. ‘So anyway, before I taste it for myself, I’d like to know for certain that one of the ingredients isn’t toxic.’
‘Always wise,’ said SJ. ‘You’d only have yourself to blame if you woke up dead.’
SJ took no time in getting on with the tests, the same procedure as before.
When she was satisfied she said, ‘Well, like last time, there’s no poison. There are various trace metals in there etcetera, but mostly it’s just water, salt and sugar.’
‘Salt and sugar?’ said Ruby.
‘Uh huh.’
SJ pushed her goggles on top of her head, which gave her the appearance of a fly. Then she held the bottle up to the light. ‘Where can a taste take you?’ she muttered. ‘Well, let’s see.’ She poured a little of the liquid into tiny beakers and they all sampled the drink. ‘The taste is … what do you think?’
‘Kinda gross,’ said Ruby.
‘As a drink, I’m not sure,’ said Blacker.
‘No,’ said SJ. ‘It’s like seawater. But sweet too.’
‘So you agree,’ said Ruby, ‘there’s something else to it?’
Blacker nodded and peered through the bottle at the label’s reverse. ‘“Four great tastes since 1922.” What do you think that’s trying to tell us?’ he mused.
‘I have no idea,’ said Ruby.
Was the intention to convey a message? A location maybe? If the taste was a code, pointing to something, someone or somewhere, then they were not seeing it.
There were a lot of unknowns, but at least now they knew that these elusive drinks were in some way connected to the dealings of some unsavoury people, even if they didn’t have a clue as to how or why.
‘What was in the first bottle?’ said Blacker. ‘The one purchased at the store?’
‘Water, lemon and sugar,’ said SJ.
‘No salt?’
‘Not in that one.’
Blacker scratched his head. ‘So the guy tastes the first drink, the sugary lemony one, and then a few days later arrives at the university music school,’ he said.
‘But I mean, what’s sugar and lemon got to do with the music school?’ said Ruby. ‘Is there any connection?’
‘There are lime trees in the courtyard,’ said Blacker.
‘Limes are not the same as lemons,’ said Ruby. She paused – she was thinking about the sleek new music school with its state-of-the-art concert hall. ‘So what used to be there, before the music building got built?’
‘The old comb factory,’ said Blacker.
Her face fell. ‘So nothing lemony about the place?’
‘Nope,’ said Blacker, ‘and no, it was never ever painted yellow.’
‘Nothing’s coming up lemons,’ said Ruby.
Blacker’s watch bleeped. He looked at the message and his relaxed expression faded.
‘I have to be somewhere,’ he said, jumping to his feet. He looked anxious, worried even, Ruby thought.
‘Everything OK?’ asked Ruby.
‘Sure, it’s nothing,’ he said, ‘just a routine briefing thing.’ But his face told another story. ‘Are you able to work on this alone, or do you want to team up with Froghorn?’
She gave him a look as if to say, you serious?
‘I guess not,’ he said, as he attempted to twist himself into his raincoat.
‘You go
t the sleeves all inside out,’ said Ruby, taking the coat from him and untangling it, ‘here.’
‘Thanks,’ said Blacker, ‘I’d be lost without you.’ He put the coat on. ‘So look, call me as soon as you get something, OK?’
‘Assuming I do,’ said Ruby. ‘So far I’ve been lucky – just happened to see strangers doing strange things.’
‘So keep your peepers peeled and you might just get lucky again,’ said Blacker, exiting the room.
Ruby thought about what Blacker had said, how she should keep her eyes peeled, so instead of going home she headed to Flaubert Street.
She found a bench on the far side of the road from the old piano factory and stared across at the huge Taste Twister billboard. Ruby took out her notebook and pencil and made a sketch of what she saw, making sure to get the details just right. The billboard, the image, the words and all.
She zipped her parker and sat watching for a while. Would the guy in the red hat come back? She sat like that for two whole hours in fact, before figuring that this was probably the dumbest thing she had ever done. The odds that anyone would just happen along were remote – she couldn’t rely on getting lucky – so instead she would have to use her brain. She thought back, visualising the guy in the red hat, staring up at the billboard.
What had he seen to make him go to the Little Seven Grocers store to buy the bottle?
The billboard told him to go. Either the name of the store was written somewhere on that advertisement or …
The billboard somehow gave the location of the store!
She stood up, waited for a gap in the traffic and crossed to the other side. She walked to the billboard and peered up at it, like the Australian man had done. A few minutes later, she saw it. At the bottom, in small numerals, was a set of numbers.
32.7410, -117.1705
To a casual passer-by, it might just seem like this was a serial number for the poster. But Ruby had a hunch those numbers were not just any numbers – they had to be coordinates.
