Blink and You Die

AT 3 PM RUBY HEARD A SCRATCHING at the door.

‘Bug, is that you?’

She was answered by one short bark.

‘OK, I’ll see you by the back door.’

She pulled on her boots, coat and hat, wound a scarf around her neck, and climbed out of the window.

Bug was waiting patiently outside for her, and together they set off down Cedarwood Drive, turned right on Amster and continued on as far as the Donut Diner. She left the husky by the coat rack and he settled down for a nap.

It was medium busy, not too crowded, but as usual there were plenty of customers. Marla, the owner, waved to Ruby as she walked through the door.

Ruby took up a seat at the counter where Clancy was already waiting: in front of him, two mugs of ginger tea and a couple of apple donuts.

Ruby unzipped her coat, to reveal a T-shirt which read: happy to be here

‘What’s with the tea?’ asked Ruby.

‘My sister Amy has a cold, my sister Lulu has a cold, my sister Nancy has a cold, my sister Minny has a cold, my dad has a cold.’

‘Jeepers,’ said Ruby, ‘sounds bad.’

‘Drusilla says due to the high levels of antioxidants in ginger, ginger tea can strengthen your immunity, warding off infection, and I’m trying to remain uninfected,’ said Clancy.

‘But why do I have to drink ginger tea?’ asked Ruby. ‘It’s you Crews who are the ones harbouring the plague.’

‘Who knows who it will strike next; you go down sick, there’s more of a chance I go down sick, and I don’t want to go down sick. Christmas is my favourite time of year.’

Ruby sipped her ginger tea. When Clancy was in this frame of mind it was easier to fall in behind than argue it through.

‘By the way, long time no hear,’ said Clancy.

‘I wrote you: you didn’t get my postcards?’

‘I got ’em,’ said Clancy. He thought for a moment. ‘How come you typed them?’

‘I didn’t want anyone to recognise my handwriting,’ said Ruby.

‘Is that why you signed them Aunt Mabel?’ asked Clancy.

‘I was trying to keep incognito.’

‘Well, it brought up a few questions with my mom, I can tell you that.’

‘What was she doing reading your postcards?’ said Ruby.

‘People read other people’s postcards,’ said Clancy. ‘They’re postcards, no envelopes, the mailman can read them if he chooses to, I mean if he happens to be particularly bored.’

‘So,’ said Ruby, ‘what did she want to know?’

‘Why this Aunt Mabel, who she didn’t know even existed, was recommending thermal socks. I mean if you were planning on using a code then why didn’t you use the regular one?’

‘Because if I had written a postcard in gobbledegook then that would have looked really suspicious. This way it looks like I am writing to you about normal stuff.’

‘Since when is it normal for an aunt who doesn’t even exist to write me about thermal socks?’

‘OK, you have a point, I went too much into character, but can we get back to the point?’

‘Which is?’

‘I did keep in touch.’

‘But you didn’t tell me anything, not really, only that something had happened and it was hard to explain in writing.’

‘Well, it was.’

‘In that case, why didn’t you call?’

‘It wasn’t so easy,’ said Ruby, biting into one of the donuts. ‘They had this whole lockdown thing going.’

‘Since when was Genius Camp so high-security?’

‘It was more like boot camp, if you really wanna know – anyone caught out of their study area or generally not complying with mathletics rules was threatened with disqualification.’

‘Seriously?’ asked Clancy.

‘You bet seriously,’ said Ruby. ‘I mean, you had to ask to use the payphone – you know it actually had a padlock on it.’

‘When did you ever take notice of petty rules? Or locks for that matter … Plus I thought you would have wanted to be disqualified and get sent home early.’

‘I thought about it, believe me, but then you know I felt bad for my mom and dad. For some reason having a daughter who is a major dork brainiac means something to them.’

‘That was your reason for staying?’ said Clancy. ‘Since when do you care so much about your parents’ dreams of a “show and tell daughter”? Forgive me, but I just don’t buy that.’

‘OK, so not just that. I had my reasons for sticking around, and one of them was the Pink Pixie. I swear I woulda walked had it not been for that box of crackers.’

‘You mean Dakota Lyme?’

‘Yeah, her,’ said Ruby. ‘Boy, she was so crazy for winning, her eyes almost popped out of her face – you remember how she tried to injure that kid, Ward Partial?’

‘Yeah, I read about that,’ said Clancy. ‘Don’t tell me she did it again.’

Ruby nodded her head. ‘Only worse this time. That poor Partial kid was at breaking point. You know, for a dweeb he’s actually kinda OK, plus he’s only eleven. He can’t handle the pressure.’

Clancy nodded. ‘So what happened?’

‘I’ll tell you some other time, but suffice to say, I stuck it out.’

‘You know what?’ said Clancy.

‘What?’ said Ruby.

‘You’re all heart.’

Ruby took a big slug of her drink. ‘Well, I couldn’t abandon him, could I? Let her go ahead and make mincemeat of him while I swanned off back to Twinford. You know what, this ginger tea’s not bad.’

‘What is bad is the hogwash you’re spouting,’ said Clancy. ‘Would you quit feeding me this garbage and actually tell me why you left town?’

Clancy had a way of sniffing out the baloney, and he knew there was more to Ruby’s little math vacation than the tale she had been telling him. Since when was it necessary for her, the brightest kid in Twinford Junior High, to go away for a four-week intensive math and science camp?

Ruby looked him dead in the eye, plucked a serviette from the dispenser and carefully wiped her hands.

‘You promise not to get all flappy?’

‘Why would I get flappy?’ replied Clancy.

‘OK,’ she said, ‘if you want to know so bad, I’ll tell you.’

Clancy waited.

‘It was all down to Hitch. It was him who was keen I should go, it was him who came up with the idea and wanted me to hunker down at geek camp,’ said Ruby.

Clancy looked confused. ‘Hitch is interested in your mathematical development?’

‘Hitch is interested in me continuing to breathe,’ said Ruby, ‘and I’m kinda interested in the same thing. The geek camp was just a way of getting me away and out of Twinford while he assessed the situation and made things secure back home.’

‘Assessed what situation?’

‘The situation regarding who might want me dead.’

Clancy let go of his donut and it splashed into his tea.

‘Clance, are you OK?’

‘Hitch thinks you’re on some kinda hit list?’ said Clancy, his voice unsteady.

‘Well, maybe …’ she said.

‘That’s why you were in the middle of nowhere for four whole weeks.?’ He paused. ‘But are you sure it’s safe for you to be home?’

‘Safe as it’s ever possible to be,’ said Ruby. ‘So long as I stay inside the house for the rest of my life everything should be fine.’

‘It’s not funny Rube.’

‘I know,’ said Ruby. ‘I’m not really laughing, you know that, don’t you?’

‘So is it the Count?’ asked Clancy.

‘Well, a month ago I would have said yes,’ said Ruby. ‘But the last thing he told me down in that crypt was that he had decided not to kill me.’

‘Why?’

‘Apparently he changed his mind.’

‘He actually said that?’ asked Clancy.

‘He said it was in his best interests for me to keep on breathing.’

‘Well, that’s kind of worrying, don’t you think?’ said Clancy.

‘Why?’ asked Ruby.

‘Because it sounds like there might be some other crazed killer out there.’

‘Yeah, well, I think there is,’ agreed Ruby.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ said Clancy.

‘I’m telling you now,’ said Ruby.

‘So?’

‘So what?’ said Ruby.

‘So the other thing you’re not telling me.’

‘What thing?’ said Ruby.

‘I don’t know,’ said Clancy. ‘That’s why I’m asking.’

‘OK …’ she said, ‘but don’t get all worked up … you gotta …’

‘I knew it!’ he said. ‘Something happened, didn’t it? It was just after I got outta hospital, after the Halloween pageant, the day before you went off to camp, am I right, am I, am I right?’ Now he was beginning to flap.

‘Clance, you promised you wouldn’t flap.’

Clancy ignored her and continued flapping.

‘Look Clance, the thing is …’

But he wasn’t finished. ‘Something spooked you, really spooked you.’ He was getting all dramatic now, Ruby hated when he got all dramatic – at least, hated when he got dramatic about things that were actually already dramatic.

‘Then you suddenly took off without a word. I knew there had to be a bigger reason than hanging out with nerds at some crummy nerd camp and I knew there had to be a bigger reason than just the usual Count encounter.’

‘Just the usual Count encounter …?’ spluttered Ruby. ‘The usual—’

‘So what was it that spooked you just after Halloween?’ interrupted Clancy.

‘Well, it wasn’t any kids dressed up as ghouls, I can promise you that,’ said Ruby.

‘That I figured,’ said Clancy. ‘But why didn’t you tell me what happened, you know, after … that night in the crypt –’ his voice was a little shaky now – ‘with the undead and … and, you know –’ he paused, before whispering – ‘the psychopath.’

‘Just a regular Tuesday night in Twinford.’

But Clancy was in no mood for making light. He was just looking at her, waiting for her to spill the beans.

She breathed in a long slow breath, exhaled and stared back at him.

‘Well, I was going to tell you, of course I was, but I needed time to think.’

‘About what?’ asked Clancy.

‘Everything,’ she replied. ‘It’s a big deal what I know, and I haven’t told a soul.’

‘No one? But you musta told Hitch?’

Ruby shook her head.

‘Blacker?’ asked Clancy.

‘No one,’ said Ruby.

‘So,’ said Clancy, ‘what is it?’

‘Not here,’ said Ruby, looking around. ‘Let’s move to that booth in the corner. I don’t want to risk being overheard – you know, walls have ears and all that.’

They slid off their stools and took their drinks over to the other side of the diner where the lighting was dimmer and the customers fewer.

‘So,’ said Ruby, ‘ever heard the phrase “a bad apple”?’

CLANCY DID NOT HAVE TIME to answer Ruby’s question, nor to wonder what apples had to do with anything, because they were interrupted.

‘Hey! Ruby!’

The voice came from across the busy diner and belonged to Elliot Finch.

‘You’re back,’ he called.

Ruby peered at her reflection in the chrome serviette dispenser. She nodded. ‘It would seem so.’

Elliot tapped his head and said, ‘I saw Bug lying by the diner door and I thought to myself, Ruby must be in here somewhere.’

‘Quite the little Sherlock Holmes,’ said Ruby.

Elliot slid into the seat next to Clancy. ‘So how’s the fruit baby?’

‘What?’ said Ruby.

‘He’s talking about the Lemon,’ explained Clancy.

The Lemon was Archie Lemon, one-year-old son of the Redforts’ neighbours Niles and Elaine Lemon, and a baby very lucky to be alive. Had it not been for Ruby’s decision to use him as a prop in the Halloween parade, Archie Lemon would have been asleep in his bedroom and the Twinford Tornado would have taken him with it when it whirled into the Lemons’ home, destroying Archie’s room. However, Archie had survived and his parents could not thank Ruby enough. In fact, it was getting to be a problem.

‘It must be cool,’ said Elliot.

‘It’s not,’ said Ruby.

‘Being a hero’s not cool?’ said Elliot.

‘I’m not a hero,’ said Ruby.

‘You saved that kid’s life,’ said Elliot.

‘I borrowed that baby because I needed him to play the part of Baby Grim in the pageant. I needed him because I wanted us to win. If we had won, we would have got prize money. That’s not heroic, it’s self-serving.’

‘But you saved his life,’ insisted Elliot.

‘Luck,’ said Ruby. ‘Coulda been the other way around, coulda been the tornado hit the pageant and it would all have been my fault and they woulda hated me for all eternity.’

‘Life is fickle,’ said Clancy.

‘People are fickle,’ corrected Ruby.

‘Still, it must be great, his parents thinking you’re a hero, even if you’re not … technically, I mean.’

‘It’s a pain in the butt,’ said Ruby. ‘Elaine calls round all the time asking me how I am.’ She sighed. ‘And she keeps giving me stuff.’

‘She’s giving you stuff?’ Elliot’s eyes grew big. ‘Like gifts and things?’

‘Yeah,’ said Ruby.

‘Oh boy,’ said Elliot, ‘I would love that.’

‘Would you?’ said Ruby. ‘Really? Cos I got a whole bunch of super ugly sweaters you can have: pink ones, purple ones, kitten ones …’

‘That’s what she’s giving you? Sweaters? Why sweaters?’ asked Clancy.

‘Her sister owns an “ugly knitwear” business,’ said Ruby.

‘Too bad,’ said Elliot.

‘Look, the point is not what she’s giving me, but that I don’t want her to give me anything.’

The bell over the diner door jangled and in walked Mouse Huxtable.

‘You’re back!’ she mouthed.

Ruby nodded. ‘So everyone keeps telling me.’

‘Well, you’ve been missed, that’s for sure,’ said Mouse. ‘Mrs Drisco’s been real grouchy.’

‘Why’s that?’ said Ruby. ‘I would have thought she would be happy to see the back of me.’

‘I think she misses the banter,’ said Mouse.

‘So what’s school been like since I left town?’ Ruby yawned.

‘Well,’ said Elliot, ‘it’s been a real hotbed of finger-pointing since you were cleared of trying to wreck Del’s life.’

‘I don’t think you can say “hotbed of finger-pointing”,’ said Mouse. ‘It doesn’t make a lotta sense.’

‘No,’ agreed Clancy, ‘it doesn’t sound right somehow.’

‘Like you can talk,’ said Elliot. ‘What was it you said the other day …’

Mouse broke in, ‘The point is, Elliot, Ruby’s off the hook and in the clear, everyone thinks it was someone from the outside, i.e. not a student at Twinford Junior High.’ She shook her head and looked at Ruby. ‘Boy, I guess someone really hates you out there.’

‘My money’s on Dakota Lyme,’ said Elliot.

‘Don’t be so sure,’ said Ruby, who knew for a certainty that it was not. ‘You gotta be careful making allegations against people, however objectionable they might be.’ It was actually the vengeful Lorelei von Leyden, mistress of disguise, who had set Ruby up as saboteur. Dakota Lyme was just a fall-guy.

Clancy checked his watch. ‘Yikes, I’d better get going. I have to pick up a load of cough syrup for my sisters or I’ll never hear the end of it – and I mean literally: cough, cough, cough.’ He pulled on his coat. ‘That thing we were talking about before, Rube, we’ll catch up first thing, OK?’ He shot her a look and she nodded.

‘OK,’ said Ruby.

Ruby hung out for another half hour before she headed off. She didn’t feel like going home just yet, so she turned the corner at Green Street and made a left at Main until she reached Ray Penny’s second-hand bookstore.

On a winter’s evening, with its cosy lighting and tropical heating (Ray hated to be cold), Penny Books was a pleasant place to kill time. The store was unusually busy today. Perhaps due to the warmth, and the fact that Ray wasn’t much bothered by making a sale, a lot of folks used the place like it was a library.

Ruby browsed the graphic novel shelves; apart from shuffling footsteps as customers edged around bookstands, all that could be heard was the classical music playing on Ray’s turntable and the sound of turning pages. Ruby stepped past a bearded guy who was sitting on a stool looking at a book with a beige cover. He wasn’t browsing, he was most definitely reading. In another corner was a boy flicking through a comic while he snacked on a flapjack.

Ruby herself settled down with a pile of Space Creep novels and began working her way through them. A moment later she was roused from her reading by the sound of falling books. Through a gap in the shelving, she could see part of a face, serious and intense. It belonged to a young woman who was clutching a pile of poetry books, and continuing to browse even though her arms were already full. Too full. Every now and again one of the poetry books would slide out from the pile and hit the floor and she would mutter, ‘whoops’ or ‘darn’ or ‘for flip’s sake!’

After the fifth drop, the guy with the beard looked up and said, ‘Here, let me help you with those.’ He put his book down on the stool and took the stack of paperbacks to the front desk.

The young woman was very grateful. ‘Thanks a lot, that’s so kind, thank you, real nice of you, thank you again.’

Ruby was curious to know what had kept the bearded man so enthralled for the past forty-four minutes and sauntered over to take a look. The object of interest turned out to be a book entitled Fascinating Fungi.

Ruby didn’t doubt that the study of fungi might be fascinating, but this book was not presented in a way that would entice the casual browser. With its old black-and-white photographs and dense text, you really needed to be a total fungus nut to want to pick it up. But as Mrs Digby would say, ‘it takes all sorts’. Ruby had never been a big fan of edible fungi, and even when in a survival-type situation hadn’t been overjoyed to see one. However, the poisonous kind interested her quite a lot.

Ruby knew a great deal about poison in all its various forms, and her knowledge in this area had grown in recent weeks due to a series of attempts on the life of the Mongolian conservationist Amarjargel Oidov, organised it seemed by the Count and presumably his employer. No one exactly understood why Oidov had become the target of a murderer, but it seemed likely that it was connected to the ancient and previously undiscovered species of snake she was seeking to protect. The reptiles were an incredible yellow and marked with delicate diamonds of colour. The skins would fetch high prices in the fashion trade and the venom might also be of interest to toxicologists.

Coincidentally, one of the unusual things about the snake was that it feasted on mushrooms. Why the snakes were of interest to the Count, or indeed the Count’s boss, was still an unknown.

Ruby checked her watch: it was getting late and probably time to head home. She thanked Ray, who merely raised his hand in a lazy ‘bye-bye’, and Ruby pushed her way out into the cold night air.

IT WAS ANOTHER COINCIDENCE that when Ruby returned home that evening it was fungus that was the main topic of conversation.

Mrs Digby was staring hard at a very ancient-looking recipe book and appeared unusually flustered.

‘So what are you looking to cook?’ asked Ruby, peering over the housekeeper’s shoulder.

‘Your mother wants me to rustle up this particular stew – she’s got her mind set on it, but I’ll be darned if I will ever find the ingredients.’

‘Maitake,’ Ruby read. ‘What are maitake?’

‘Hen of the woods,’ said Mrs Digby.

‘Chicken?’ said Ruby.

‘Mushrooms,’ said the housekeeper.

‘What’s the big deal with mushrooms all of a sudden?’ said Ruby. ‘They seem to be popping up everywhere.’

‘Everyone’s gone mushroom crazy, including your mother, and I can’t get my hands on a single one of these rarer breeds.’

‘Breeds?’ said Ruby. ‘Do mushrooms breed?’

‘My point is, there’s been a run on them, and it’s all to do with those darned vipers.’

‘What vipers?’ asked Ruby.

‘Those ones that were on the TV.’

‘You mean the yellow snakes?’ said Ruby. ‘The ones that were exhibited at the Geographic Explorer awards?’

‘Those are the critters,’ said Mrs Digby. ‘There’s been nothing but chatter about them, all the while you’ve been away – on the radio, on the television networks, in the newspapers.’ Mrs Digby reached for the Twinford Hound and slid it across the counter. ‘I don’t mind telling you, I wish those slitherers had never been discovered.’

‘I expect Amarjargel Oidov feels the same,’ said Ruby, thinking back to the conservationist’s almost-murder. Oidov had made a full recovery, but it had been a close call. Now Ruby could see, as she scanned the evening paper, that the prize-winning conservationist Oidov was working alongside the scientific institute, and they were together:

‘STUDYING THE YELLOW SNAKES, THEIR DIET AND THEIR ENVIRONMENT, WHICH REMAIN A CLOSELY GUARDED SECRET.’

It was their diet, which included a rare and unnamed mushroom with rumoured life-enhancing powers, that had sparked this fad for unusual fungi.

Ruby read on.

‘THE RESEARCH PROGRAMME IS BEING CONDUCTED IN SECRECY. THE SCIENTISTS ARE WORKING WITH A HIGHLY QUALIFIED DIETARY EXPERT FROM SEVILLE, SPAIN.’

Ruby had a pretty good idea who this dietician might be.

Mrs Digby continued to burble on about the snakes. ‘They say those reptiles hold a secret, but if you ask me the only secret they hold is how to get you dead lickety split – one bite and you’re a goner.’

‘Plenty of snakes will get you dead,’ said Ruby. ‘Though you’re right about the venom; it is unusual. The skins are kinda spectacular too. I mean there are plenty of people who might want to bump off Oidov and turn her yellow snakes into handbags.’

‘Just the thought of it makes me queasy,’ Mrs Digby shivered. ‘What I would kill for is a half-pound of these hen of the woods.’

‘Have you tried the grocers on Green Street?’

Mrs Digby rolled her eyes. ‘You think I was born this morning?’ she said. ‘If Green’s stocked such a thing then I would go to Green’s, but these are no ordinary mushrooms.’

‘So maybe the farmers’ market would have them?’ suggested Ruby. ‘They have pretty exotic vegetables.’

‘These are exoticker,’ said Mrs Digby.

‘Exoticker?’ repeated Ruby.

‘More exotic,’ said Mrs Digby. ‘More exotic than what the farmers’ market sell. These you have to forage for and even then you gotta be lucky, and I don’t have the time to be lucky nor the inclination to go roaming through the forests of Minnesota trying to spot a hen of the woods.’

Ruby shrugged. ‘So substitute.’

‘What with, might I ask?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Ruby. ‘How about button mushrooms?’

Mrs Digby shook her head. ‘What you don’t know about cooking is a lot.’

Which was true.

The phone rang and Ruby picked up.

‘Pest control, we spray you pay.’

‘Hey Ruby, it’s us! We’re in Paris!’

‘Mom?’

‘Oui, but of course.’

‘Ciao ciao Ruby!’

‘Dad?’

‘Yes, it’s me.’

‘How are you?’

‘Well, the weather here is très froid you know, and there’s neige.’

‘What? You mean snow?’

‘Uh huh, lots and lots of neige, the airport is still closed.’

‘So when are you likely to make it home?’

‘Ooh la la – heaven only knows.’

‘Would you like to talk to Mrs Digby?’

‘Oui, yes, if you please s’il vous plait.’

Ruby handed the phone to the housekeeper and left them to it.

Maybe she’d have a go at solving Mrs Digby’s fungus problem.

Ruby might not know a lot about how to get her hands on a hen of the woods, but she knew someone who probably did.