THE RUBY REDFORT COLLECTION: 1-3: Look into My Eyes; Take Your Last Breath; Catch Your Death. Lauren Child

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СКАЧАТЬ (What is more precious than gold?)

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       (Vault impenetrable without plans)

      Pools, lawns and sand pits: good, mature yard man looks for jobs. I will show refs and past works if you like. Classy home maintenance, DIY too. Own a van. Special rates.

       (Plans memorised – will hand over)

      Madam Unice seeks Twinford’s absolutely fab social denizens for deeply cool music, prayer, impact. Every Tuesday evening. Vanquish vices! Amen.

       (Must obtain security device)

      Dance event. Very mixed acts. See the only pros waltz in 5 years, enjoy tango live. Hot dancing magic starts early December. You have to see what Ted Sarkey can do in only two hrs with those toes of his. Amazing skill in our town.

       (Device not yet located but we know who has it)

      ‘Not bad,’ said Blacker. ‘I think you’re gonna prove me right.’

      ‘So where is the security device?’ asked Ruby.

      ‘That’s the thing, the gold vault at the bank doesn’t have a security device – not as such. It has a two-part code. Freddie Humbert, the bank manager, has one half, and his security chief has the other. There’s no way anyone can get their hands on the code without kidnapping both of them, and since LB’s brought in round the clock high security protection – kidnapping is near impossible.’

      Ruby frowned. If the Fool’s Gold Gang were worthy of Spectrum’s concern, then why hadn’t the Gang noticed that City Bank security had been tightened? Why didn’t they know that they had to get their hands on a code, not a device? They didn’t stand a chance with a plan like this. These bozos might well know how to get shoe polish off a pair of corduroy pants but they had no idea how to go about robbing the safest safe in the USA.

      Ruby pondered all this for a while. Something didn’t make sense… unless, of course, the gang had something much bigger in mind.

      Was this plan only the beginning of things?

      Was the real plan way more cunning? Is that what Lopez had discovered? Did the Fool’s Gold Gang know more about the Twinford City Bank than anyone gave them credit for?

      At three o’clock Hitch called to see how she was doing. ‘Look kid, I’m sorry but I’m going to be a little late picking you up – something has come up at HQ. Just hang on till seven and I’ll be there.’

      Ruby was exhausted and the idea of staying on into the early evening was not very appealing. To make things worse Blacker poked his head round the door and said, ‘I’m sorry Ruby, I’ve been called in to HQ. Got to deal with a crisis. A replacement agent is coming over to watch over you. I’ll stick around till they get here.’

      ‘Oh,’ said Ruby. ‘OK.’

      She started reading, and ten minutes later a voice broke her concentration, she looked up to see the smug face of the Silent G.

      ‘Well, well, well if it isn’t little Ruby Redfort.’

      ‘Oh brother!’ sighed Ruby.

      ‘Believe me little girl,’ Froghorn said, ‘I’m not exactly turning somersaults to be here.’

      Blacker frowned. ‘You play nice, Froghorn, you hear? Ruby, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.’ He grabbed his jacket and made for the door, calling out, ‘Be nice, Froghorn! You remember how to be nice, don’t you?’

      Froghorn pinched his lips together like he had just sucked a lemon.

      ‘Never fear,’ he said. ‘Your little babysitter friend will be back to keep you company tomorrow. And I’m sure Hitch will make you an ice cream sundae when you get home.’

      Geez, this potato head was really winding her up, but she decided to keep her cool.

       Keep a lid on it, Ruby.

      That day Ruby did about as much reading as she had ever done, and Ruby was a big reader. She had once read a hundred and two Spy-Scoundrel graphic novels in one day, but this was a whole different type of reading.

      By six o’clock she was exhausted – she had barely looked up all afternoon. She stretched back in the chair and absentmindedly pulled the keyring puzzle out of her jeans pocket. She stared at it without thought – she was too tired to think. She sat there motionless for a few moments before being brought back into focus by a buzzing sound – a housefly had roused itself and was hovering over in the corner of the office. She watched as it settled on the seat of the bike, propped against the wall. It was a woman’s bike; she guessed it must have belonged to Lopez. Ruby looked at the door and looked over at Froghorn – he was chatting on the phone. She paused for one whole split second just weighing something up.

      ‘Excuse me,’ she said, ‘but I gotta be going. Hitch phoned to say I could cycle home if I liked – he’s not gonna be finished for a while.’

      Froghorn put his hand over the receiver. ‘Sure, sure, run along home little girl, what do I care?’ He motioned for her to go. ‘Maybe you’ll be allowed to watch some TV before bedtime.’

      Ruby thought she might just do that – she had done enough reading to last her a week.

       Mrs Digby, on the other hand, was missing her reading. . .

      She was without her beloved paperbacks, which had apparently been rejected by the burglars and left in her basement apartment. Mrs Digby was a voracious reader and loved her crime fiction even more than she loved her TV thrillers.

       If they had to go and steal everything including me then why in tarnation couldn’t they have the decency to steal my valuables too?

      Then she stopped to think.

       Ah, ah, but they will have stolen Ruby’s valuables and I can count on that kid to have a little old thriller I can settle down with.

      Then she noticed the clock – nearly seven.

       Quick, not much time.

      Although unable to escape her luxury prison, Mrs Digby could at least make herself a cup of tea – although the milk had gone bad. ‘Rats!’ she muttered, before settling down in an armchair to watch her favourite game show, What’s Your Poison?

      She was just getting comfortable when she was startled by an alarming, high-pitched scream.

      Before Mrs Digby could turn around she heard the voice of a woman. ‘Stay right where you are lady, don’t move a muscle, don’t even twitch an eyelash.’

      Mrs Digby was a tough old bird but even she knew when it was wise to twitch an eyelash and when it was not.

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