The Complete Ruby Redfort Collection

Mrs Digby was beginning to make herself at home. . .

She had investigated her surroundings and discovered that although she was trapped – nothin’s gonna budge these locks – in what amounted to a giant warehouse, she was at least very comfortable.

So this is how it feels to be a Redfort, she said to herself as she stretched out in Brant Redfort’s designer lounge chair. She was by now attired in one of Sabina Redfort’s evening gowns – it was a full length silver sequined affair and rather dressy for kicking about an old warehouse but Mrs Digby had always wanted to try it and besides, who was ever going to know?

Mrs Digby, ever practical – my ancestors were pioneers, they panned for gold, survived eating boiled raccoons and raw berries, sometimes boiled berries and raw raccoons – had managed to find a long extension cord and had powered up the well-stocked refrigerator. She wasn’t going to starve anytime soon, that was something.

The Digbys have always survived and always will because we’re not afraid of a little hard work and a little discomfort, said Mrs Digby to herself as she arranged Mrs Redfort’s faux mink stole around her shoulders.

Now, if I could just find a way of getting reception on this TV.

Chapter 11.

The eyes followed the hands

‘SHE WILL BE IN MIAMI,’ said Brant Redfort.

‘Who will be in Miami?’ repeated Sabina.

‘Mrs Digby,’ said Brant. ‘Remember that time she got so mad at you for putting us all on that pickle diet? Said it would pickle us from the inside out.’

‘Uh huh.’

‘Well, what did she do? She took off for Miami, stayed there till you saw sense.’ Brant folded his arms like a man who had just successfully completed the cryptic crossword.

‘You know what Brant? You’re a genius!’ She turned to Ruby. ‘Your father’s a genius, Ruby!’

Ruby thought this unlikely but said nothing.

‘Miami! That’s exactly where she is,’ continued Sabina. ‘Playing poker I’ll bet. Thank goodness for that.’ She poured herself another tomato-celery health juice. ‘How she loves to gamble!’ Sabina picked up her magazine, Faces of the Absurdly Rich. ‘Well, this is going to make old Freddie happy, it says here that security has been stepped up to record levels – Twinford City Bank now has the safest bank vaults in the whole of the country.’

‘Well I’m relieved to hear it,’ said Brant. ‘I just deposited my latest paycheck! I certainly don’t want to gamble with that!’

Sabina laughed like he had just cracked the joke of the century.

Ruby, who despite appearances had actually been paying attention to this conversation, thought about what her father had said – not about the gold, but about Mrs Digby. Gambling in Miami – it was certainly a possibility.

She was roused from her thoughts by a piece of toast freshly delivered to her plate. It was telling her something:

‘Be ready in ten, wear your boots.’

Mrs Bexenheath, the school secretary, looked up to see what at first glance she imagined must be some Hollywood film star. It was as if he had accidentally strayed off the ‘walk of fame’ and wandered unwittingly into the shabby halls of Twinford Junior High – so entirely out of place was he. However, this handsome man struck up an easy conversation with her and before a minute had passed Mrs Bexenheath had found herself agreeing to excuse Ruby Redfort from all lessons for the foreseeable future. She had concentrated carefully, all the while staring into his Hollywood eyes, wondering were they brown or were they hazel. And although after he had left she couldn’t exactly remember why she had excused Ruby from classes, she did find herself very sympathetic.

‘Of course! Of course, she must take all the time she needs,’ she had gushed.

‘Just remember, Mrs Bexenheath, keep it hush hush – oh and don’t bother Mr and Mrs Redfort, if you need to ask anything then be sure to bother me.’

‘Oh I will, I will,’ said Mrs Bexenheath sincerely.

Hitch thanked the school secretary for her warmth and kindheartedness, and promised that yes, he would make a point of visiting the school again soon. Then he said goodbye and returned to the car where Ruby was waiting.

‘So?’ said Ruby when Hitch got back into the driver’s seat.

‘Mrs Bexenheath passed on her warmest wishes and insists you take all the time you need.’

‘Really? What did you tell the old crab apple?’ asked Ruby

‘Well, it seems that your grandmother has contracted a rare but not infectious virus while bird watching in the Australian Alps – condition, serious,’ Hitch said, turning the key in the ignition.

‘There are no Australian Alps,’ said Ruby.

‘Well someone should have told your grandmother that because now look at her.’

‘I can’t, she’s in New York – probably all tucked-up in her penthouse apartment,’ said Ruby.

‘Let’s not tell Mrs Bexenheath that or she might get really upset.’

‘You know what man, you’re some butler.’

‘I prefer household manager but thanks kid. Now, I think a little trip to see our friends at Spectrum.’

‘Why is it called Spectrum?’ asked Ruby

‘You’ll see,’ said Hitch as he sped out of the parking lot.

Ruby sat back. Maybe this guy wasn’t so bad. He certainly knew how to concoct total nonsense – perhaps they were going to get along after all.

When they entered HQ it wasn’t via the manhole cover that Ruby had previously used – no, this time they had to climb along the side of the Twinford Bridge. She now understood why the toast had recommended boots.

They stopped when they found a tiny rusted metal doorway covered in graffiti – nonsensical words and sprayed on images, including one of a fly. Different from the one on the manhole cover but a fly none the less.

‘How come we’re not going down through that old drain hole?’ she said.

Hitch smiled. ‘There’s a saying at Spectrum: “If you want to lead the enemy straight to your door then just keep using the same one.” That’s why we have a lot of different ways in – we are always sealing one up and opening another. We have to, we can’t risk anyone finding our true location.’

‘But how do they construct all of this?’ said Ruby peering into the gloomy passage way. ‘All these passages and corridors? And how do they link up? I don’t get it.’

‘And nor should you kid – that’s for them to know and us to be completely confused about,’ replied Hitch with a wink.

Hitch and Ruby were greeted by a dowdily dressed woman who introduced herself simply as Buzz. She was the least buzzy person Ruby had ever seen.

‘Buzz?’ repeated Ruby.

‘It’s a nickname,’ said Buzz, by way of explanation. It was clear she wasn’t the sharing type. The reception area was light and glossy, spacious in a way that made you wonder where they got all the space from.

‘Give us a minute will you kid?’ said Hitch.

Ruby wandered across the hall-like room, her eyes darting from object to object, her brain trying to make sense of the place. Buzz and Hitch were talking way over on the other side of the room. Ruby could make out every other sentence, or just about – most of it pretty dull but one thing she heard intrigued her.

‘How do you think she measures up to you know who?’

‘Bradley Baker? Your guess is as good as mine.’

‘Well, if she even comes close I’ll be amazed.’

‘Perhaps she’ll surprise us all.’

Ruby had no idea what they were talking about – Bradley Baker? Who was he and why did she have to measure up to him?

‘Ready kid?’ called Hitch

She stopped pretending not to listen and walked over to where they were standing. ‘What now?’

‘You need to be security cleared and then you can take the ninety-nine second test.’

‘What’s the ninety-nine second test?’ asked Ruby. ‘And why do I need to take it? I thought I already passed.’

‘Kid, everyone who walks through the Spectrum door has to take the agency test – it’s protocol.’

Before Ruby could begin to argue, they were interrupted by a middle-aged man with wild looking hair and a slightly stupid grin.

‘Come on Ms Redfort, time for your close-up,’ he said. ‘Just got to get all your security details: a nice mug shot, a couple of paw prints, footprints, height, weight, hair colour, eye colour, teeth colour, nail colour, you name it, I need it.’

A comedian, thought Ruby, but it turned out he wasn’t joking.

After all the checks had been made and every hair on Ruby’s head had been counted – at least that’s what it felt like – there was some time to kill before she had to sit the Spectrum test.

‘Buzz, give the kid a little tour of the gadget room,’ said Hitch. ‘That’ll keep her out of trouble.’

He was wrong about that.

Buzz matter-of-factly acted the tour guide, pointing out this and that as they walked. Corridors peeled off in every direction and staircases wound up through various rooms. It wasn’t like any spy agency Ruby had seen on TV – it was much more interesting. For a start, with the exception of LB’s office, everything was in colour. Ruby had imagined the whole of HQ would be black, white and chrome – that was how a spy agency was meant to look. But this was unexpected – each department was painted in shades of a different colour; corridors gradually melted from blue to indigo to violet.

‘Oh I get it,’ said Ruby. ‘That’s why you guys call this place spectrum – it’s the colours, right?’

‘Uh huh,’ nodded Buzz.

When they got to the gadget room, Ruby’s pulse really started to race. Ever since she was tiny she had always dreamt of having special powers. What had attracted her to the Agent Deliberately Dangerous graphic novels were the gadgets. There was always a gadget which Agent Deliberately would pull out in the nick of time – thus saving his life and often the lives of many others.

Buzz pointed out a small silver object.

The Breathing Buckle.

To be used underwater. Slip buckle off belt, place between teeth and breathe comfortably for 27 minutes, two seconds. Warning! No reserve air canister.

Getaway Shoes.

Depress green button on base of left shoe to convert to ‘roller shoes’.

Big deal, thought Ruby, a kid at my school has those. But then she read on.

Depress red button on base of right shoe to activate power jets. Maximum speed 91 miles per hour for a distance of 7 miles approx. Warning! Can cause feet to overheat. Avoid use on rugged terrain.

Kinda small, aren’t they? mused Ruby. Must be for some woman with feet like a kid.

She moved to the next cabinet: displayed inside was an elegant, cropped cape-jacket. It was white with a fur edged hood, and had one large, shiny glass button.

Lady’s Parachute cape.

Pull on button to activate chute. Warning; to avoid earache, ensure hood is up before embarking on airborne descent.

‘We don’t use that any more,’ said Buzz, glancing over her shoulder. ‘None of our female agents will be seen dead in it – apparently it’s out of style.’

Ruby didn’t agree at all – what did Buzz know about fashion anyway? The woman looked like a walking mushroom. As far as Ruby was concerned, this was one cool looking cape.

Buzz moved on, pointing out various tiny lifesaving survival gadgets and deadly lifesaving weapons – all disguised as ballpoint pens, brooches, miniature radios, hats, umbrellas, sunglasses, car keys and a thousand other things.

However, what really caught Ruby’s eye was the watch. It was in a glass drawer contained in a special cabinet with a notice which said, ‘for display only – do not remove.’ The watch face had cartoon eyes, and the eyes followed the hands. The second hand had a fly at the end of it that ticked steadily round the dial. That fly again. For a split second it triggered something in her memory. Autumn leaves whirled through her mind and a strange dark feeling lurked but she couldn’t grasp hold of it. And then just like that it was gone.

The watch strap was brightly striped and was fastened with an interesting clasp and the face was coloured enamel with chrome surround. It was desirable simply because of the way it looked but of course there was more to the watch than its appealing appearance. The label said, ‘The Fly, Escape Watch’ and in red letters underneath, it said, STRICTLY DO NOT TOUCH.

But how could Ruby resist? While Buzz was on the far side of the room, busy reading out the specifications of some much less interesting gadget, Ruby slipped the watch off its stand and popped it on to her wrist – it was a perfect fit.

She pressed the winder and out shot a titanium cable, barely visible to the naked eye – it had a hook on the end and was clearly designed as a sort of climbing device. Ruby could see that by twisting the dial you could make the cable longer or shorter depending on how much you needed. What she couldn’t immediately see was a way of unhooking the hook and retracting the cable – which was unfortunate because seconds later the door opened and Ruby heard the sound of softly padding feet. Bare feet.

LB.

Ruby stood very still and smiled a big smile. She hoped LB wouldn’t notice what had happened and she hoped that if she did then the smile might go some way to softening LB’s reaction.

This, it turned out, was a wrong assumption.

‘Redfort, if you must grin like an idiot, please don’t direct it at me,’ drawled LB. She clearly hadn’t noticed Ruby’s predicament, and launched into a conversation with Buzz. Ruby wrestled with the cable – she finally managed to unhook it and even managed to find the retracting device just before Buzz signalled to her that it was time to take the exam. Unfortunately there was no chance to replace the watch back in its drawer.

Buzz was in a hurry. ‘Just push that drawer shut,’ she said. ‘Once we leave the room everything locks automatically.’

Ruby knew if she was caught with the watch then her agent assignment would certainly be over. There was nothing else for it but to stuff it deep into her jacket pocket. Maybe there would be a chance to return it later – after she took the test.

No one need ever know.

Chapter 12.

The silent G

THEY WERE MET IN THE CORRIDOR by an uptight-looking man in a self-conscious sort of suit.

‘Ruby... Redfort?’ he said, reading from his clipboard as if there were a whole troupe of school children waiting to take a secret agency test.

Ruby looked around. ‘Well, I’m pretty sure she’s called Buzz,’ she said, nodding at Buzz. ‘So I guess that would be me.’

The man sniffed. ‘Follow me, would you.’ He was very uptight. He could only be about twenty-three and was dressed in a pathetically showy way. All hair product and bleached teeth but no style.

Ruby caught sight of his ID badge. ‘Miles Froghorn?’

‘That’s Frohorn,’ corrected the man. ‘The G is silent’

He led her down a series of orange through yellow through ochre corridors. Ruby trailed her fingers on the shiny gloss paint and the man snapped his head round. ‘Please don’t touch.’ Ruby opened her mouth to speak but the man held up his hand. ‘No questions please.’

Boy, is this guy a prize potato head.

They continued in silence until he stopped, opened a door of uncertain colour – commonly described as sludge – and pointed to a desk in the middle of an empty room. He then placed a pile of papers on the table. ‘Here’s a pencil. You have one hour and one minute. You are only required to give one answer, any crossings out, any changes of mind, will be seen as a wrong answer. If you have an urgent need to go to the bathroom, suppress it. Any questions? Good, I didn’t think so.’

‘Yep Mr Froghorn, just one actually.’ (She ignored the silent G thing.) ‘Have you ever considered moving into the care industry because boy, I really think you might be wasting those great people skills.’

Froghorn looked at her, all beady eyes and defensive – like a cobra, or was it a jackal?

‘Do your test little girl, fail it, and then I’m sure an adult will drive you home. A few people here might rate you, but what you need to be aware of is that you are no Bradley Baker and you never will be.’

‘Just who is this Bradley Baker?’

But Froghorn wasn’t about to explain. When he exited the room he slammed the door so hard the sound echoed down the corridor.

I must remember that silent G, said Ruby to herself.

Ruby picked up her pencil and took a look at the papers in front of her. There were thirty-seven problems and one hour and one minute to solve them in. That meant just ninety-nine seconds on each one. She glanced at the clock and began reading.

Spectrum Agency Test –

37 problems – Time 61 minutes.

(1) You have to take three criminals back to the County Jail: Alexei Asimov, Walter Trunch and Carlo Carlucci. You have to cross a river on the way, and the boat only takes two people at a time. The trouble is that if you leave the criminals together, Asimov will kill Trunch, and Trunch will kill Carlucci. How can you get them safely across the river?

She smiled, geez that was easy – just thirty-six to go.

(2) You have seven gold bars. However one of them is a counterfeit and weighs less than the others. You have a set of balance scales but you may only use them twice. How do you identify the counterfeit gold bar?

Boy, if all the questions were going to be this simple the time was really going to drag.

(3) Calculate

* ANSWERS AT THE BACK OF THE BOOK!

Now this is more like it – question three was one of those questions that keep highly respected mathematicians up all night. Ruby furrowed her brow – for about twenty-eight seconds, then she grinned.

Oh, I get it.

When Froghorn walked back into the room he found Ruby hunched over the test papers, chewing her pencil.

‘Oh dear, you seem to be stuck – too hard?’ asked Froghorn, barely able to contain his mirth.

‘Well it’s just I’m sorta confused.’

‘Never mind little girl, it is a very difficult test – tricky for children to make sense of.’

‘Oh that’s a relief because this question didn’t make any sense at all.’

He looked over her shoulder.

(25) Spectrum agents Bret and Emily and Chuck are all driving to a Clairvoyants’ concert. They set off an hour before the concert. Bret takes route A which is twice as long as Emily’s route B but the average of their two routes is the same as Chuck’s route C. Trouble is Bret gets lost and goes 10 miles out of his way meaning he ends up travelling as much as the combined distance Chuck and Emily travel. Assuming they all drive at 40 miles an hour, how late is Brett for the concert?

‘I have to admit, less able people do find that a tough one,’ he smiled meanly.

Ruby looked at him, all big eyed innocence. ‘Oh that’s not the problem. I get that the answer is fifteen minutes – it’s just I don’t get why anyone would travel so far to go see a lame band like the Clairvoyants.’

Miles Froghorn’s mouth twisted into a mean little O. He snatched up the papers and stormed out of the room. Ruby wished she could tell Clancy about this super sap. She could just see Clancy’s expression, mouth wide, eyes blinking – boy, could she ever do with talking to him.

While she waited, Ruby amused herself by doodling unflattering pictures of Froghorn in the back of her notebook – they were pretty good actually.

Twenty-five minutes later there were footsteps in the corridor and Ruby was relieved when it was Hitch who walked into the room and not the silent G.

‘Ready to go kid?’

Ruby nodded.

Hitch motioned to the door. ‘Come on then, let’s get out of here before Froghorn sees those unpleasant little cartoons you did of him.’

‘Hey, how did you know about that?’

‘I was watching you on the monitor – not bad, you have a talent for caricature.’

‘Thanks,’ said Ruby. ‘Clancy and me are thinking of publishing our own comic book.’

‘Good for you,’ said Hitch.

They walked in silence for about fifteen seconds before Ruby blurted, ‘So?’

Hitch gave her a blank look.

‘So, how did I do?’ said Ruby.

‘Oh that,’ replied Hitch. ‘Yes, well done – thirty-six out of thirty-seven. Not bad.’

‘I got one wrong?’ said Ruby dumbfounded.

He winked. ‘Nah kid, I’m just messing with you.’

Ruby stopped walking. ‘So you’re saying I passed? I musta passed right? I mean thirty-seven out of thirty-seven, that has to be a pass.’

Hitch looked at her. ‘Don’t get your underwear in a twist kid, you passed.’

She tried to keep her cool but still, she had just passed the Ninety-Nine second test; anyone would find themselves smiling about that, wouldn’t they?

When they stepped inside the elevator, Ruby asked, ‘So who is this mystery Bradley Baker guy?’

‘Bradley Baker?’ replied Hitch. ‘He’s no one.’

There were a lot of things Ruby didn’t know about Spectrum but one thing she was already sure about was that Bradley Baker was not ‘no one’.