by Laura Wood
“When my aunt died, she left everything to her precious Percy, and I was furious. Hadn’t I been like a daughter to her? And didn’t I love the ruby better than anyone else? And wasn’t I a Van Bothing too? Well, I decided that if no one was going to give me what I wanted, it was time to take it for myself. That nincompoop Percy had no idea what I was up to. He was always so simple and trusting, so stupid.” Gertrude’s mouth was twisted into a sneer. “So I stole it and I ran away. It was easy. I couldn’t believe just how easy it was. And then there I was, and the ruby was mine.” Her eyes were shining again now, and they seemed almost to glow the same sinister red as the ruby. Suddenly, her face pinged back like an elastic band into a mask of anger.
“But somehow, Percy found me, he tracked me down, and he took back what was mine.” Her voice got louder. “MINE. I managed to escape before he could turn me over to the police, but it didn’t stop Percy from disowning me, wiping my name from the Van Bothing family tree and pretending I had never existed. That snake! Now my need for the ruby was like a thirst I couldn’t quench. I knew I couldn’t get my hands on the ruby, but I thought maybe a different jewel would do. It started small: a diamond necklace here, a pair of earrings there, but none of them did the trick. I travelled the globe, and I stole some of the most famous jewels in the world, but nothing compared to my ruby. At night it was like I could hear it calling to me, missing me as I was missing it, longing for us to be together…” She broke off with another sharp bark of laughter.
“Oh, yes,” she said musingly. “I’ve done it all in my day – museum busts, bank jobs, the lot. It was … easy … so very, very easy…” Gertrude trailed off, lost in the memory of her daring heists.
She’s mad, I thought desperately. She’s a crunchy peanut butter nut. I started trying to look around desperately for an escape, but the only way out was the door behind Gertrude. She was enjoying herself now as she continued her story.
“I got good at being invisible, at blending in, especially as I got older. Nobody ever noticed the little old lady in the background. And then, one day, I heard that Percy had died and I thought, now, now I will get what’s rightfully mine.” Gertrude rubbed her hands together gleefully. “And when I heard that the artefacts were going to be in a school for six weeks before they moved to the British Museum, I saw my window of opportunity.” She looked at us. “It’s much trickier, you know, to steal from a museum. Tricky, but not impossible.” Her eyes glazed over and a smile played across her face as she obviously remembered other museum-based jewel-stealing capers.
“I got a job as Miss Baxter’s assistant, and I thought the rest was going to be a piece of cake, but things were more difficult than I had anticipated…”
“The curse,” I whispered. “All the accidents. That was you?”
Gertrude let out that short bark of laughter again. “Oh, the curse! Yes, that was a stroke of luck. When I staged that power cut so I could swipe the ruby, I was unlucky that that jumped-up security guard hung around talking with Miss Baxter. And then that horrible little drama group spotted my torch and I knew I had to make a quick getaway and try again. What I hadn’t counted on was all the talk of the curse. I knew with a little imagination I could turn that to my advantage. At first I thought a little commotion might pull the guards away, but unfortunately Miss Baxter had actually hired a fairly decent security firm. Of course, they were still no match for me.” She smirked wolfishly. “I needed more time to plan, and I thought if I got people riled up enough about the curse, then Miss Baxter would cancel the grand opening and delay things for a while – long enough for me to find a way past her security measures. And she was just about to do it before YOU convinced her not to.” She turned her glowing eyes on me.
“But … the bees and the fire,” I cried. “You could have really hurt someone!”
Gertrude shrugged. “Who cares? If one of you little runts had got really hurt it would only have made the talk of the curse grow stronger, and created enough chaos for me to steal the ruby.”
“You’re mad!” burst out Kip.
“Mad, am I?” mused Gertrude, pointing the gun in his direction. “Well, maybe I am. But now I have the ruby, finally, all to myself. I just needed to hang around long enough to pin the crime on someone else so I could make a clean getaway. I thought that Miss Susan would be a good candidate, but once again your meddling put an end to that. Now I think your precious Miss Baxter could benefit from a spell in prison!”
“No!” I shouted. “You can’t do that!”
“Why do you think I’m in here, snot rag?” chuckled Gertrude. “A few forged letters, some well-placed fingerprints I’ve collected, and a broken pearl bracelet … well, that stupid inspector will have her behind bars by morning.”
I knew I had to keep her talking. I cast a desperate look at Kip and Ingrid, but they were both as still as statues, eyes enormous in their pale faces. Then I noticed that Ingrid’s hands were moving behind her back. I saw her manage to pull something out of her back pocket – it was a paper clip! The one that Pym had given her weeks ago, when she dropped me off at Saint Smithen’s. To my surprise, Ingrid began picking the lock on her handcuffs with nimble fingers. I had to keep Gertrude distracted.
“So how did you do it? Steal the ruby, I mean?” I asked her, trying to keep the trembles out of my voice.
“Nothing could be simpler,” smirked Gertrude. “For once your interfering helped me out. By organizing for that group of freaks to come and perform, you gave me the perfect cover. I stood outside this office and heard every word that magician said about how the trick worked.” With the tiniest click Ingrid’s handcuffs came undone and she slipped them in her back pocket. She shuffled a bit closer to Kip, so that their shoulders were touching. From where Gertrude stood it must have looked as if Ingrid was leaning on him for support, but she was actually busy picking the lock on Kip’s handcuffs like a pro.
“So what happened next?” I asked loudly, keeping Gertrude’s eyes on me.
“Then all I had to do was set a fuse to blow at the right moment, reach in, and grab my prize.” Gertrude put her hand in her pocket and pulled out the ruby beetle. Its flaming glow bounced, reflected a thousand times around the room, lighting Gertrude’s face a monstrous red. I felt Kip slip the paper clip into my hand and in a jiffy I was free of my cuffs as well. But it was already too late.
Gertrude gazed lovingly at the ruby for a moment before slipping it back in her pocket. Then she cocked the gun with a terrifyingly clear CLICK.
“And now” – she smiled horribly – “I think it’s time for the curse to claim three more victims.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
“Wait!” I shouted, staring down the barrel of Gertrude’s gun. “Think about what you’re doing! If you shoot us, it won’t look like an accident.” I darted a look at Kip and Ingrid. “People will be looking for the shooter.”
Gertrude clucked her tongue in annoyance and dropped the gun slightly. “Drat!” she muttered. “I hadn’t considered that.” She looked over at us beadily. “But something must be done about you.”
“Perhaps you could leave us here while you escape,” said Ingrid quickly. “You could lock us in. No one would find us until you were long gone.”
Gertrude tipped her head to one side thoughtfully, and then her eyes narrowed. “And have everyone out looking for me?” She shook her head. “No, no, no.” She tapped a finger against her cheek. “You have to be silenced for good.”
I could feel my knees wibbling beneath me as I tried to think clearly. In a flash of extraordinary kid-detective brilliance, a plan appeared in my mind.
“What we need is another tragic accident,” Gertrude said slowly, casting her eyes around the room.
“What?” I said loudly. “You want us to take a TUMBLE?” I looked wildly at Kip and Ingrid. Ingrid frowned thoughtfully, but Kip looked horrified.
“Eh?” said G
ertrude, temporarily thrown.
“You think Kip and I will FLIP out?” I said, and Ingrid’s eyes cleared. She gave me the tiniest of nods. Kip, however, was still looking at me like I had grown an extra arm.
“Stop talking gibberish! Ahhh, I know, a fire would be just the thing.” The evil glint was back in Gertrude’s eye as she continued to make her dastardly plans. “So sad, such a tragedy, but then you three do have a habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time…” Gertrude started cackling the sort of mad, witchy laugh you expect to hear at Halloween.
I was starting to feel desperate, but I broke in again. “That idea must have given you quite a BOOST.” I glanced wide-eyed at Kip in time to see realization spreading across his face like jam across toast. Gertrude, however, was still looking pleased with herself.
“If you start a fire in here, how will you pin things on Miss Baxter?” I said quickly. “All your plans will be for nothing.”
“Pipe down, weasel chops!” commanded Gertrude haughtily. Then she let out another little laugh. “There are plenty of ways for me to cast the blame on to your beloved Miss Baxter, don’t you worry about that. Anyway, with a blazing inferno like the one you’re going to be trapped in, panic about the curse will be stronger than ever! Perhaps I should draw some more of those Egyptian symbolybobs around again, just to get everyone really stirred up…”
My heart thudded down somewhere in my shoes.
“So it was you who drew the symbol on the blackboard, then?” asked Kip loudly.
She swung her furious gaze around to Kip’s face. “Yes, of course it was me.” She sniffed. “I had hoped that little stunt would be enough to fuel talk of the curse and get the opening cancelled, or at least to keep interfering eyes on Miss Susan, especially when I distracted her so that she’d miss the start of the lesson. Of course you morons were meant to turn the lights on before she got there, which would have made her look even guiltier, but yet again you foiled my plans.”
Ingrid cleared her throat. “Miss Van Bothing,” Ingrid simpered, “I can’t tell you how impressive you are.”
“Eh?” Gertrude looked at Ingrid, startled.
“Yes,” continued Ingrid breezily, “for years now I’ve been considering how exotic and exciting it would be to be a master criminal.” She let out a tiny sigh. “But for us youngsters it’s so hard to find a role model, especially one with your flair and talent.”
Gertrude preened, but kept the gun firmly focused on us.
“You’re just so clever,” Ingrid pressed on. “The way you planned it all, the way you tricked everyone … it’s amazing.”
“Well, thank you,” said Gertrude, looking pleased with herself, her grip on the gun seeming to relax slightly. “I must say, it’s nice to hear from a fan. In my line of work, of course, you don’t get a lot of praise, on account of how everybody’s so busy trying to find you so they can stuff you in prison.”
Ingrid’s huge eyes shone with sympathy. “Well, they’re the ones who deserve to be locked up – not recognizing a talent like yours. It’s criminal!”
Gertrude was nodding eagerly, her gaze fixed, as if hypnotized, on Ingrid, her grip slackening even more so that the gun was now pointing much lower.
“NOW!” I heard Kip hiss in my ear.
And it was different to all those times we had practised it and failed. Kip dropped to one knee, and I stuck one foot in his cradled hands and sprang up with all my might as I felt Kip push me into the air with a strength that even he didn’t know he had. I squeezed my eyes closed as Kip’s boost sent me spinning up and across the room. In my mind I could see it all happening in slow motion, when in reality it must have taken a fraction of a second. I spun once, twice, and then stretched my legs out straight, feeling the soles of my feet make contact with Gertrude’s body.
The sheer force of my kick sent us both crashing along the floor. Gertrude’s back and head smacked against the door, and the gun skittered over the carpet. Kip charged towards it as fast as his legs would carry him. Gertrude howled, and I felt her bony hands closing around my throat. I tried to scream, but I couldn’t make a sound. I clawed at her surprisingly strong arms, but the world was starting to look as if I was seeing it through a misted-up bathroom mirror.
“YOU MAGGOT! YOU WORM!” screeched Gertrude somewhere above me.
Suddenly there was a loud thunking noise, and, miraculously, I felt Gertrude’s hands let go of my throat and flop limply at her sides. Looking up, I saw Ingrid, her eyes blazing fiercely, and in her hands was the heavy book she had just whacked Gertrude on the head with.
I lay on the floor, gasping to get my breath back, as Ingrid and Kip kneeled down beside me.
And then, with a crash, the door to Miss Baxter’s office burst open, knocking over the now unconscious Gertrude, and I found myself looking into the worried faces of Pym, Miss Baxter and Inspector Hartley.
“About time you got here,” I croaked, and then, very gracefully, I passed out.
Chapter Thirty-Four
When I came to, it was to find the anxious faces of Pym and Miss Baxter looming over me.
“Oh, thank goodness you’re awake!” said Miss Baxter.
“Hello, lovey, don’t worry, you’re all right now,” murmured Pym, squeezing my hand tightly.
“She’s up!” I heard Ingrid shout, and then she and Kip were at my side as well.
I struggled up, feeling a bit stiff and sore but otherwise fine. “Where’s Gertrude?” I asked quickly, looking around and realizing I was still in Miss Baxter’s office.
“Inspector Hartley arrested her!” Ingrid said quickly.
“Yeah, Poppy, it was so cool. It’s a shame you were all conked out ’cos you’d have really loved it,” said Kip enthusiastically, hopping from one leg to the other.
“He will be back in a minute, once he’s seen to everything, and I’m sure he’ll be able to answer all your questions,” said Miss Baxter, smiling. “Although I must say, I’m more interested in hearing your story. What on earth happened?”
And while I sat and sipped a glass of water, the three of us told Pym and Miss Baxter how the events had unfolded. As we were telling the story, I felt like we really were in a Dougie Valentine book, but when I thought about Gertrude pointing that gun at us I began to think for the first time that life inside a Dougie Valentine novel might not be all it’s cracked up to be.
Miss Baxter’s face was pale by the end of the story, and her voice shook as she said, “I just can’t believe all this time it was Gertrude! That little old lady…”
We were so wrapped up in the story that we hadn’t noticed the inspector slipping back in. “Gertrude’s no ordinary little old lady,” he said, shaking his head. “She’s Light-Fingered Trudy, one of the most notorious jewel thieves in the world, and until five minutes ago she was at the top of the government’s most-wanted list for years!” Inspector Hartley grinned. “You three might have just pulled off the capture of the century!”
“YEAH!” shouted Kip, while Ingrid smiled vaguely. I just felt dizzy with relief that it was all over.
“How did you find us, anyway?” I asked.
“We were with Pym when she had a premonition that you were in trouble,” said Miss Baxter. “It was quite extraordinary. Arthur … I mean, Inspector Hartley … and I went down there to ask some questions.” Miss Baxter’s cheeks turned pink underneath her freckles. I looked at Inspector Hartley and he quickly hid a smile with his hand.
“I knew something was wrong,” Pym put her arm around my shoulders and squeezed me tightly. “I’d been having confusing visions all afternoon. We all came over as fast as we could.”
“Well, I’m glad you did,” I said, “although Ingrid seemed to have it all under control. Ingrid! How did you know how to get out of those handcuffs like that?”
Now it was Ingrid’s turn to blush. “It was all in that esca
pology book you gave me. And they were only standard chain nickel handcuffs.” She shrugged modestly. “It was easy.”
“Yeah, and Ingrid knocked that crazy lady out like she was some kind of ninja!” Kip shouted. “And Poppy and me did our trick perfectly. I knew I was strong enough—” Kip broke off as though struck by an important thought. “The sprouts,” he whispered. “The power of the sprouts is real.”
“Well, I think all three of you displayed great bravery, and proved to be top-class detectives even after a rocky start,” smiled Inspector Hartley. “I expect you’ll all be joining the force in a few years. We could do with such talented investigators on the team!”
I felt myself glowing like a microwave full of pride.
We were all laughing and talking when suddenly there was a great bang.
“WHERE IS SHE?” boomed a familiar voice.
“I’m sorry, sir, you don’t have clearance…” I heard the policeman stationed outside the room squeak.
“No, Boris, put him down … PUT HIM DOWN,” I heard Doris shout.
Inspector Hartley flung the door open just as Boris had lifted the unfortunate policeman over his head as if he were a fluffy pillow.
“What is going on here?” demanded Inspector Hartley, but he had to jump out of the way as a stampede of circus performers thundered into the room and flung themselves at me.
“Oh, Tomato, Tomato…” wept Fanella, tears running into the fake moustache she was wearing. “I think you are dead as doo-doo.”
