Ruby Redfort 1 - Look Into My Eyes (27 page)

Bingo! It had to be. It could only be! The woman from the hotel, from the square, the woman in the car, and of course the woman at the airport — there were coincidences and there was bad luck and her mom was certainly running into a lot of one or the other. Her mother carried on talking, but Ruby heard none of what she said — she was too busy thinking about the little man with the huge mustache. What did he have to do with all this?

And then, suddenly, she knew.

“So, Mom, you remember when you bumped into the guy at the airport, the guy with the mustache?”

“How could I forget? That suit will never be the same,” Sabina said, sighing.

“Well, he didn’t give you something, did he?”

“Whatever do you mean, Ruby? Why would he give me something?”

“Well, I don’t know, but could he have slipped something into your pocket, without you knowing?”

“Why would he
slip
something into my pocket, why not just give it to me like a normal human person?”

Ruby took a deep breath. “Well, you see, it happens all the time in
Crazy Cops
, someone who’s being tailed by the cops or even tailed by the bad guys, purposely bumps into a complete stranger and slips something into their pocket — a secret code, or potion, or valuable thing. Maybe the thing is stolen!”

“I can assure you I would know it — that suit is very fitted, the pockets aren’t made for putting things in, it would ruin the shape,” said her mother firmly.

“But what about,” ventured Ruby, “if it was something really tiny, like a note, or something small but valuable, like for example a ring or a key?”

“If it were a ring or a key then the metal detectors would go off — I had to go through metal detectors to board the plane. Besides if there was anything in the pockets the dry cleaner would have phoned to let me know — they always do. By the way they found a watch in your jacket.”

“Oh, did they?” said Ruby. “I was missing that . . . but they didn’t find anything in yours?”

Sabina looked at her daughter, bewildered, and said, “Just what are you getting at, Ruby?”

Ruby saw that look in her mother’s eyes and knew there was no point trying to persuade her that a small man with a mustache, for whatever reason, had almost certainly planted something on her. Something that other people — ruthless killers, in fact — badly wanted. That it was not a coincidence that her parents’ luggage was lost, and the very next day the house robbed. That Mrs. Digby was not sulking but was most probably stolen along with the furniture. And that her mom was very lucky not to have been kidnapped herself — someone had certainly tried. At best her mother simply wouldn’t believe her, and at worst she would panic.

Ruby took a deep breath and said, “Oh, nothing. Guess I’ve been watching too much TV is all.”

“I’ll say,” said Sabina, patting her daughter on the head. “Your father is always saying so.”

She left the room, and Ruby thought about what her mother had said. It was true, a ring or a key or something like it would have set off the metal detectors, but there had to be a reason everyone was after that jacket — Oscar Birdet wasn’t
that
good a designer.

She took out her notebook and made a list of what she knew, and just as important, what she didn’t know.

“But wait a minute,” said Ruby out loud — maybe she did know something else after all. Ruby thought back — it was Hitch who had taken the jacket to the dry cleaners. It was likely he would have kept a ticket, and it was more than likely that he would have stuck it on the refrigerator door — she’d seen him do that several times with other things. Ruby got up and went into the kitchen. She scanned the refrigerator — it was covered in receipts and lists, postcards and coupons, all stuck in place with magnets.

There it was:

She crossed off number 5 from her list of unknowns — she had the advantage.

SHE WAS PRETTY SURE SHE KNEW
where Crisp ’n Clean was located — she had seen their sign, which had neon lettering and a neon laundry-detergent box that spilled neon bubbles. It was somewhere on the east side of town. She rarely went to that particular district but she had passed it once or twice and the brightly colored sign had lodged in her mind. The
C
of
Clean
was broken so it read
Crisp ’n lean.

Ruby felt there was no time to lose, not if she was right about the woman who had visited her mother’s gallery earlier that day — and she was sure that she was. She grabbed her schoolbag and called out, “Hey Mom, just popping over to see Clancy. I promised him some help with his French assignment.”

This wasn’t an actual lie; she
was
going to pop in on Clance. She had promised, and Ruby Redfort always made a point of keeping her promises.

“OK, honey! Your father and I will be at the very last and final museum meeting before the big launch — we can’t wait, it is so exciting. I am wondering, mmm, what do you think? Should I wear the yellow dress or the silver? I look fabulous in yellow but then again silver is a statement, don’t you agree? Oh my, of course! I should wear jade, it would be perfect! Only thing is I don’t have a jade dress . . .”

Her mother’s voice drifted away as Ruby slipped out of the door.

Ruby could see Froghorn: his car was parked across the street and he was watching the house. Or at least he s
hould
have been watching the house, but instead seemed to be involved in some chitchat with Consuela.

He was leaning, his hand on the hood, trying to look cool.
What a potato head,
thought Ruby. Unnoticed, she climbed on her bike and set off for the east district. She almost instantly regretted that she hadn’t swapped the sparkly red clogs for some practical sneakers — they made pedaling difficult.

A few miles from home, she found herself in the industrial district, and after riding up and down several wrong streets she finally came upon the one she was looking for. The light in the window of Crisp ’n Clean was on, but the back of the shop was dark and after several minutes of knocking it became obvious that everyone had gone home for the night.

Drat!

Ruby parked her bike in the alley that ran alongside the building, and looked for a way to get in. About ten feet above her head was a little window. It was small, but then so was Ruby; if she could
reach
it there was a good chance of her wriggling through.

She looked around and saw at the far end of the alley a mass of old crates and cardboard boxes — she began to drag them underneath the window. It wasn’t long before she had constructed a sort of cardboard tower. But was it going to take her weight?

Lucky I skipped dinner.

Ruby took a deep breath. The box construction was very unstable, but strong enough for her to climb; however, as she pushed herself through the opening, the makeshift staircase gave way and toppled back into the alley.

Don’t worry about that now,
thought Ruby as she tumbled onto the hard linoleum floor.
Just find that dumb jacket and get outta here.
The room was full of sewing machines and reels of cotton, clothes piled up waiting to be mended. It seemed likely that the cleaned items would be downstairs near the front of the shop. It wasn’t easy to see; the lights were off and she didn’t want to alert anyone by switching them on. She did, however, have her mini flashlight — it would have to do. She would need to be careful — she didn’t want to draw a crowd.

Ruby trawled through the racks of clothes. There were quite a few powder-blue ladies jackets.
Must be a fashionable color.
She had to look at the label in the back of each one before finding her mother’s — the Oscar Birdet.

This is what all the fuss is about?

She slipped it from its hanger and peered into the tiny fitted pockets. Empty? But there had to be something; surely she hadn’t been wrong about this.

She slipped her fingers into the left-hand pocket — nothing — and then the right.

Something.

Something cold and flat.

She drew it out.

And almost invisible
.

She could scarcely feel its weight in her palm.
So that’s what they’ve been looking for — no wonder no one found it
. It looked like a letter
K
, a
K
with holes punched through it. What was it? And where to put it? She instinctively felt like she should keep it with her — not in her bag. And not in her jeans pocket: it looked delicate, made of glass.

Ruby thought for a moment, then, taking the barrette from her hair, she slipped the glass
K
on to it and clipped it back in place. It was barely visible in her thick dark hair. She had always felt that the most obvious place was often the safest place to hide something.
RULE 3: PEOPLE SO OFTEN DON’T SEE WHAT IS RIGHT IN FRONT OF THEIR EYES.

Then she folded the jacket and stuffed it into her bag.
Might as well make my mother happy. Now, better get outta here.

She looked at the back door — it would be a lot easier to leave that way than by the tiny upstairs window. She turned to go and then she remembered the watch. She didn’t want to leave it here, not when she was so close.

Better be quick
. The mending room was upstairs — she headed back up to the second floor and let the flashlight dance around the room. It wasn’t obvious where to start looking. She thought for a moment. The cleaners were bound to have a drawer for found items.

What was that?

Ruby froze.

Was that a car pulling up at the back of the building?
No, it was nothing.
Boy, Ruby, get yourself out of here before you have a heart attack. Just get the watch and get out!

There was a desk in the corner — maybe there. She tiptoed over to it and began opening the drawers. And there it was, a brown envelope with
Redfort
scrawled on it. She opened it and took out the watch.

“Got ya,”
she whispered, fastening it around her wrist. Suddenly, Ruby heard the sound of breaking glass. She stood stock-still — and then she heard a door opening. Someone was coming in and it was high time she got out.

She slung her bag over her shoulder, then pushed herself back out through the small window. She leaped headlong into the pile of cardboard boxes. She was glad she had watched all those episodes of
Crazy Cops
— they had taught her how to land. Now her adrenaline was really pumping — the fall had dislodged her left contact lens, and her right eye had begun to stream. For a few seconds she found herself practically blind. Why wasn’t she wearing her glasses? Somehow, she stumbled into her bike, got on, and pointed it in the direction of town. She rode fast, not wanting to tempt fate by looking behind her.

Just pedal, Ruby!

As she rode, her right eye began to clear and she could see enough to know she wasn’t far from home. She began to laugh, the slightly hysterical laugh of one who is both relieved and a little surprised to be alive. No one had seen her, and she had gotten away free as a bird — luck was on her side.