by Lauren Child
“I only get my purse snatched by some criminal is all!”
“You don’t!”
“I’m telling you, and no one does anything, I mean the guy’s fast but still . . . you’d think . . .”
“You would,” agreed Barbara.
“Anyhow, suddenly Hitch drives around the corner, sees me screaming at the thief; I tell you Barb he was out of that car before you could blink and run. I’ve never seen a man move so fast.”
“Hitch, your butler? You are kidding!”
“I am not kidding, Barbara. He is after that guy, catches up with him, karate kicks him in the back of the legs, and the guy drops my purse.”
“No way!”
“I get my purse back, no harm done.”
“What about the guy?”
“Hitch chases him up a fire escape and over the top of the Wilmot building but the guy leaps down about forty feet into a passing garbage truck and he’s gone.”
“Wow, Sabina. That’s some butler you have there — hold on tight to that one.”
“You can be sure of it, Barb!” And the two women dissolved into unexplained giggles.
Ruby walked into the kitchen, where Hitch was preparing snacks.
“So I hear you were quite the action hero today.”
“Yeah, well, stopping purse snatchers isn’t usually what I do but it makes a change from arranging cheese straws.”
“But you do it so nicely,” said Ruby, adopting her mother’s voice.
“It’s not as hard as it looks. Want to try?”
“Nah, I’d cramp your style. So I guess your shoulder’s getting better if you can chase a thief up a fire escape?” said Ruby.
“Yeah, it must be, finally — which can only mean one thing. I’ll be moving on soon. I’ll have to get someone else to babysit you.”
“Just like Mary Poppins, you’ll be gone,” said Ruby, pouring herself a glass of banana milk.
“Yeah, well, kid, I’m not saying it hasn’t been supercalifragilistic to know you, but I’m kind of glad to be getting back to the day job, know what I mean?”
“I know what you mean.”
Ruby walked upstairs to her room and met Consuela coming the other way with a tray piled high with dirty cups and cereal bowls.
“I was just about to bring those down,” said Ruby, correctly predicting trouble.
“I shouldn’t have to be going up and down cleaning up after you. I’m a dietician, not a housemaid,” said Consuela. “But we are running out of dishes — they are all in your room!”
“Look, I’m sorry, I really am.” Ruby gave Consuela her best “I’m sorry” face, and Consuela’s scowl instantly softened.
“Oh, your friend Clancy called,” she said. “He wanted me to ask you how your grandmother is doing? He seems to think she is sick or something.”
“Yeah, poor Clance, he can get very confused about things — gets facts very mixed up. He’s got some sorta disorder.”
“Oh, that’s a shame,” said Consuela, unusually concerned.
“Yeah, it’s too bad,” said Ruby, and as she closed the door to her room, she remembered how every little untruth always led to a hundred others. This was RULE 32: TELL ONE LIE AND GET READY TO TELL A WHOLE LOT MORE.
The next day, riding her bike through Twinford, she had the same “watched” feeling she’d had before, but there was no sign of anything that might suggest she was being tailed.
After sitting at the desk in the dusty brown office for six hours, it dawned on Ruby that she was bored. It wasn’t the work exactly, although today it was painstaking, reading files over and over, trying to find a loose thread or something that would lead her to the next thing. No, it was the environment that was the problem, cut off from the world with only a supreme potato head for company. She wondered if this was how Lopez had felt.
Only it was doubly bad for Ruby because it looked like she was going to fail, and the fear of failure was indeed a strange new feeling.
She started absentmindedly rolling her pencil up and down the desk — she wasn’t even aware that she was doing it. She was lost in thought when she heard Froghorn shout, “Hey! Little girl, could you stop doing that!”
Ruby jumped, and the pencil rolled across the desk and disappeared off the edge.
Darn it.
She slipped off her chair and took a look underneath the desk — she could see the pencil there on the floor but she couldn’t reach it. As quietly as she could, Ruby began pulling at the heavy piece of furniture until it moved a couple of inches. She slid her hand along and felt around until it found what she was looking for. But the pencil she retrieved was not her pencil; it was green with white writing. The writing said:
The Fountain.
Ruby sat still for so long that Froghorn came in to see if something had happened.
When he saw her sitting there, just staring at a pencil, he made some pathetic attempt at a smart remark. Ruby noticed that he had a mayonnaise stain on his tie but she really couldn’t be bothered to point it out — she was far too busy thinking about Lopez.
. . . when she heard a voice, or rather voices.
“We better go and talk to the old lady, get her to cooperate if you know what I mean.”
Oh I know what you mean, said Mrs. Digby to herself. She sat back in her chair and waited for the inevitable. The door was opened and in walked two men: the one with the nice face who she had met before and another much bigger man, almost a giant, who she hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting yet. There was no sign of the woman with the high-pitched scream.
The nice-looking man seemed to be in charge — at least he did most of the talking.
Mrs. Digby stood there with her hands on her hips. “What is this? Kidnap-an-old-person week?” She wasn’t taking captivity lying down. The Digbys had always fought tooth and nail, no matter what the odds.
“All we want you to do,” said the man, “is call your employers and tell them that you are safe and sound in Miami.”
She folded her arms.
“And why would I tell them that, when it is perfectly obvious to me that I am not?”
“Well,” suggested the man softly, “why don’t you just say that you are?”
“Because that would make me a liar and I’m no liar.” Mrs. Digby pursed her lips.
“Well,” said the man, “cross your fingers behind your back and pretend that you are.”
Mrs. Digby sighed heavily. “And just what am I doing in Miami?”
“Perhaps you are playing a game of blackjack. Perhaps you have friends there.”
“And what if I’m not in Miami? What if I’m being held at gunpoint in a warehouse, what are you going to do then?”
“Then,” said the other man, the one with the big hands and the silver rings that looked a little bit like brass knuckles, “then perhaps you are gonna wish you was in Miami playing blackjack.”
“OK, OK, I get the picture, tough guy.” Mrs. Digby picked up the phone, praying Ruby might have skipped school. If Ruby heard her voice she would know in a moment that something was up. Ruby was one smart cookie. Mrs. Digby dialed the number — but no one answered.
“So leave a message,” hissed the tough guy.
Mrs. Digby glanced at his silver rings and decided she would do as she was told.
“They won’t believe it, you know,” she said. “You can force me to say a whole lotta mumbo jumbo on an answering machine but the Redforts know me inside out — they’ll know I was made to do it. It just won’t ring true, they know I have no cousin Ernie — believe you me, you all are gonna be stitched up like a pack of kippers.” Mrs. Digby was defiant as ever, but her captors merely laughed.
“Don’t wait too long to be rescued, old lady — you might pass your sell by date.”
WHEN RUBY RODE ONTO CEDARWOOD DRIVE she noticed a Sushi-land van parked across the street. She was greeted at the front door by Bug, and as she walked upstairs the sound of her parents’ chatter drifted down from the kitchen.
“That was so nice to get a message from Mrs. Digby, wasn’t it honey?”
“Yes,” agreed Brant. “I had no idea that she had a cousin Ernie.”
“No, nor me — just shows, you can know someone your whole entire life and never know a thing like that. Still, I am glad she is having a high old time — it’s probably done her the world of good to have a break.” Sabina picked up her magazine. “It’ll be nice to get her back though.”
“Yep, I can’t wait to tell Ruby. She’s going to be pleased as a pie,” said Brant.
“Can’t wait to tell Ruby what?” said Ruby, dumping her backpack on the floor and walking over to the fridge.
“That Mrs. Digby called!” said her father.
Ruby nearly dropped the carton of banana milk. “She did? You spoke to her? Where is she?”
“She left a message — she’s in Miami, just as your father said she would be,” said Sabina proudly.
“Oh, I’ll go listen,” said Ruby, turning to leave.
Her mother bit her lip. “Sorry honey, your father erased it.”
“Sorry, Rube,” said her father, grinning awkwardly. “You know what a dunce I am with those answer phone gadget things. Never can work out which is the right button.”
Ruby tried not to say anything unkind. “Can you at least tell me what she said?”
“She’s living it up in Miami with a long-lost cousin!” said Sabina brightly.
“Which long-lost cousin?” said Ruby, but before anyone could answer, the doorbell rang and her father went off to see who it was.
“Oh, heavens!” said Sabina, jumping up. “That’ll be the sushi people!”
“The what?” said Ruby.
“We have the museum committee coming over tonight — the museum curator, Enrico Gonzales, the Humberts, and of course most excitingly what’s-his-name-Gustav should be flying in.”
“No, honey,” said Brant, walking back into the kitchen. “He called to say he couldn’t make it.”
“Oh drat!” said Sabina.
“Nor can Freddie Humbert, he’s tied up at the bank.”
“Double drat!” said Sabina. “Anyway it will be such fun.”
Ruby rolled her eyes. “Do you mind if I watch TV?”
“Well, the thing is, honey, I thought we might go sort of Japanese and eat low — at little tables on the floor in the living room, on account of us having no dining-room set. Seemed like the perfect solution — it will be completely darling!”
“What, you can’t go Japanese in the dining room?”
“It’s being redecorated.”
“You are welcome to join us, Ruby sweetie — do you want to invite Clancy over?”
Clancy — Ruby felt that pang of guilt again. “You know what, I think I might just go Japanese on my own — in my room, do ya mind? I gotta lot of homework to do.”
“Oh, but honey, won’t you just say hi to everyone? They so want to meet you.”
After Ruby had spent two hours saying “hi” to everyone, she finally managed to slink off to her room where she made a list of all the things she knew about Lopez.
LOPEZ WAS LIKED BY BLACKER
and it seemed most of the Spectrum team so
it was safe to assume she liked them back.
..................................
DID FROGHORN BUG THE LIFE OUT OF HER?
It seemed more than likely.
..................................
SHE SOUGHT ADVENTURE,
so she was no shrinking violet.
..................................
SHE WAS ALWAYS WELL-GROOMED AT WORK,
except for that one day when she had come
in with just one hand manicured.
..................................
SHE SEEMED LIKE A PERSON WHO HAD SECRETS —
did anyone know what they were?
Ruby took the Fountain pencil from her bag.
Where did this pencil come from?
..................................
How had it ended up under Lopez’s desk?
..................................
MIGHT LOPEZ HERSELF HAVE OBTAINED IT SOMEHOW?
Now that was an interesting thought. What if Lopez had gotten tired of sitting on her little old behind and decided it was time to get a piece of the action? What if she had worked out where the Fountain was and had followed whoever it was to the meet?
It wasn’t at all likely but it was possible.
TODAY RUBY WAS DEFINITELY ON EDGE. She got up a half hour early and, using one of her mother’s powder compacts for a mirror, taped it to her bike’s handlebars — this way she could see behind her without turning around.
So, maybe she was being paranoid but better that than . . . well, never mind.
Amster was busy as ever, people jogging, people walking their dogs, walking to work, people sitting on benches reading the paper, nothing sinister — but just to be sure, she would take a new route. This time, when she got to the left turn she sailed on past it. She was taking the long way around, the route which took you over the wooden bike bridge.
Every couple of minutes she glanced in the mirror. There was quite a bit of traffic and Ruby was managing to keep ahead of most of it by riding on the sidewalk. Each time she thought a car was on her tail, it would peel off in another direction and she would feel a wave of relief. However, there was one vehicle, a taxi, which seemed to have been behind her for a long time. There were a whole lot of yellow cabs on the road, each displaying its own individual number:
Ruby had a particular gift for remembering numbers even when they were displayed backward in a tiny mirror, and this one was sticking to her like gum:
Ruby cut across one of the parks to see if she could lose it but when she rejoined the road a few blocks up, there it was — just as if it could read her mind. She rode three blocks down a tiny pedestrian alleyway but sure enough, when she reached the end, there was the cab. This was someone who could second-guess her every move.
Ruby was beginning to sweat.
She was tired and her mouth was dry. The cab neither slowed down nor sped up, it just kept following. Her finger hovered over the little orange bicycle bell but she couldn’t press it — if she did, Hitch would swoop in and all this would be over. At last she reached the bike bridge, not wide enough for cars — the nearest vehicle bridge was a quarter mile away so it was the end of the road as far as this guy was concerned. So she was surprised when she heard the car’s engine cut out and alarmed when she heard the clunk of the door opening and closing. But no one appeared on the bridge.
What are they up to? She heard the sound of movement in the marsh reeds below. Ruby froze; for seven minutes she stood completely still, not even blinking. YOU CAN MISS A LOT IN THE BLINK OF AN EYE {RULE 52}.
Then, suddenly, she saw it. Something definitely glinted in the long grass, just for a split second. What was it? Something glass — a camera, binoculars . . . glasses?
Suddenly, something or someone was moving through the marsh reeds at great speed. Curiosity overtook fear and Ruby found herself climbing over the railings, straining to see where whatever it was had gone — holding on with one hand, she leaned her body out as far as she could. She wanted to see under the walkway, then just like that, she heard the clunk of the cab door closing and the rumble of the engine as it drove away.
“Who are you?” shouted Ruby, and that’s when she lost her footing. Slipping on the iron support, her hand let go of the rail and she felt herself falling to the soggy ground below. She landed heavily but not awkwardly and nothing seemed to be broken. Whoever had been there was gone but they had left behind footprints, two smallish footprints; she crouched down to get a better look. The soles had a crisscross pattern like a lot of sneakers but what was interesting was that in the left shoe there were two round indents — the size of thumbtacks.
Now who can I think of who might have stepped on a couple of thumbtacks recently?
&n
bsp; She turned her bike in the direction of Ambassador Row.
Ruby was buzzed through the high black curly-metal gates, and there sitting on the steps was Clancy. His top lip was all puffy and he had his dog with him — they seemed to be sharing a soda.
“I’m not sure soda’s good for dogs, Clance,” said Ruby.
“Oh, I just wondered if Dolly could drink through a straw.”
“And?” said Ruby.
“No, she just starts eating it,” replied Clancy.
“Oh, too bad, you won’t be able to get her on My Pet Genius after all.”
My Pet Genius was a program that Ruby and Clancy were crazy about. It featured birds that could operate remote controls, dogs that seemed to be able to read, and cats that could make their own supper — it was highly entertaining.
Clancy smiled. “No, I guess not. Dolly is not exactly top of the class.”
“By the look of you, I’d say you had to take a seat in the dentist’s chair — either that or your dentist punched you in the kisser.”
“Does it show?” said Clancy, pointing to his puffy lip.
“Uhhh — did you look like a duck before? I can’t remember,” said Ruby, ruffling his hair.
“Thanks, Rube, that’s really reassuring — how would you like to go to the dentist at seven a.m.?”
“That stinks,” agreed Ruby. She looked down at Clancy’s feet; his shoes were not quite clean, there was still the residue of dry mud around the sides, and in the sole of the left shoe were two brass thumbtacks.
“So, you been following me, Clance?”
“How’d ya know?” he asked.
Ruby nodded at his shoes. “You left tracks,” she said. “Or should I say tacks?”
“Oh.”
Neither of them said anything for a couple of minutes until Clancy took a deep breath. “So, you going to tell me what you’ve been up to, Rube?”
“It’s kinda a long story,” said Ruby. “Very involved.”
