скачать книгу бесплатно
‘I don’t think you ever mentioned that before,’ said Del. ‘Well, maybe once or twice or perhaps three million times!’
‘Oh, ha ha,’ said Ruby flatly. ‘You guys just wish you had some kinda historical intrigue in your families; ain’t my fault that you got nothing to talk about.’
The legend was roughly this: Ruby’s great-great-great-great-grandmother, Eliza, was sailing to South America on the family ship, the Seahorse, with all her worldly goods (very valuable ones by all accounts), when the boat was attacked by pirates who slaughtered all on-board. However, Eliza’s four-year-old daughter Martha, who was a smart child, the smartest anyone could remember, escaped death by hiding in a barrel of apples.
When the pirates had finished raiding and murdering, they began collecting up the spoils from the Seahorse. But unfortunately for them, they hadn’t quite murdered everyone on-board – a few of the Seahorse crew who were still below decks took the remaining pirates by surprise and a violent battle broke out. Most of the pirates had already returned to their galleon, but those who were left fought to the death until the Seahorse, engulfed in flames, sank below the waves.
Miraculously, the child, Martha, managed to escape by floating across the seas in the apple barrel, before eventually washing up in Twinford.
The whole story sounded very far-fetched to Ruby, but she couldn’t deny its appeal. One intriguing part centred round something little Martha claimed to have seen. She was quite convinced of the fact that she had watched her mother carried from the boat by the pirates, kicking and screaming. Martha would not be dissuaded on this point – she was sure that her mother was still alive, although no one else believed it.
The postscript to the story was also intriguing since it became a tale told to children all over the region. It was said that not so long after the Seahorse was wrecked and plundered, a beautiful woman was seen aboard a pirate vessel, raiding any ships that dared to sail in pirate waters. Some said they had seen her brandishing a cutlass and slitting men’s throats, others that she was held captive, destined never to tread dry land again.
Clancy’s day was marred by his extra French tuition and, just to add insult to the occasion, a nasty run-in with his two least favourite Twinford Junior High pupils.
‘Oh, look who it is! Nancy Drew, Redridingfort’s little helper! Look, he’s just been to his “French for duh brains” tutorial.’
The girl jeering at him was Vapona Begwell (or Bugwart as she was known by most of the school), one of the few kids who did not like Ruby, but then Vapona didn’t particularly like anyone. Vapona Begwell was an unfortunate-looking girl, sour-faced and mean with it. Tall but strangely lumpen with a sort of leery stoop which made her look very much like a cartoon bully – which was sort of what she was. She hung out with Gemma Melamare, a total viper with cute blue eyes and a snub nose, who lurked at Vapona’s side and leaked poison into the schoolyard, spreading rumours and setting friends against friends. It never worked on Clancy and Ruby; they were wise to the Melamare menace.
‘So Clancy, I notice you and Ruby haven’t been hanging out so much lately. Was it because she said that thing about you being too dumb to be seen with?’
Clancy looked at Gemma blankly.
‘Oh, you didn’t know?’ said Gemma, her sugary voice feigning apology.
He smiled as he pulled his bike from the bike stand; saying nothing was his secret weapon – he knew it made Gemma Melamare crazy. Still smiling, he headed off towards the torture that was an hour’s violin lesson, his face not for one second belying the hell he was about to endure or how much he wanted to sock Gemma with the aforementioned instrument.
When Ruby arrived back from school, she found Mrs Digby singing along to the radio, which was tuned to Chime Melody. Chime Melody was her favourite station for tunes, Twinford Talk Radio for talking. Talk Radio she loved, but Chime Melody was her guilty pleasure. It played the old tunes, and Mrs Digby adored the old tunes, and what’s more she seemed to know every one of them.
She always said, ‘If I hadn’ta been so busy cooking you Redforts your every morsel, I would have sung for my supper and made a bundle on Broadway.’
‘Anything happen while I was busy learning stuff?’ asked Ruby, opening the refrigerator.
‘Only that the fish store was all out of fish. I ask you, we live practically in an ocean, but I swear there’s not one single sprat for sale. In my day fishermen knew how to fish; they could catch a catfish in a rain puddle.’
‘Don’t sweat it,’ said Ruby. ‘I’m not in a fishy frame of mind tonight.’
‘I don’t care what frame of mind you’re in child, it’s what you need that counts and you need fish or that little brain of yours is going to shrivel up like a currant.’ Mrs Digby was a great believer in fish oil.
‘So what are we having instead?’ asked Ruby.
‘You will be having a spoonful of cod-liver oil and some cabbage soup,’ said the housekeeper firmly.
‘You have to be kidding!’ said Ruby.
‘Your mother’s orders,’ said Mrs Digby, her hands on her hips, prepared for the inevitable argument. ‘Your ma said fish or cabbage and I gotta abide by her rules.’
‘But what you are actually saying is fish and cabbage – that’s not the deal,’ said Ruby.
‘I’ll grant you that,’ nodded Mrs Digby. ‘Cabbage it is – cod-liver oil will have to wait.’
Mrs Digby was a stickler for abiding by Sabina Redfort’s dietary rules, so there was no getting away from it: cabbage was on the menu and that was that.
‘Oh, I almost forgot,’ said Mrs Digby. ‘That Elaine Lemon stopped by wondering if you’d like to babysit Archie.’
Ruby made a face. ‘No way, no day,’ she said firmly. ‘Uh uh.’
Mrs Digby chuckled and started chopping cabbage.
It was at supper that night that Ruby got the message. She looked down into her unfortunate cabbage soup to see a fly struggling to make it to the rim – it was making good progress, but just as it was about to reach the bowl’s edge, it would change direction and stupidly end right back where it started.
‘There appears to be a fly in my soup,’ said Ruby, looking directly at Hitch, who had joined them for supper and was taunting Ruby by tucking into a steak cooked medium rare, fries on the side.
He winked back. ‘I had a premonition that that might happen. Let me substitute it for something less cabbage,’ he said, removing the offending liquid and replacing it with food that told her all she needed to know.
It was a slice of toast, and into it was grilled a message.
‘Be ready: 2.30am. Bring your waders.’
The note had been toasted into the bread by the Spectrum-issue toaster fax machine. A discreet way of conveying information – and what’s more you could eat the evidence, which Ruby promptly did.
Finally, the toast she had been waiting for: Spectrum had a mission for her.
AT 2.30AM RUBY GOT OUT OF BED, pulled on her jeans, a T-shirt printed with the words excuse me while I yawn and a sweater, picked up her sneakers, pushed open the window and climbed down the eucalyptus tree. Its limbs stretched towards the west side of the house providing a perfect ladder for the able tree-climber.
Hitch was already sitting in the silver convertible, its engine turning over so quietly you hardly knew it was running.
‘Nice of you to show up,’ he said.
Ruby looked at her watch. It was 2.32am. ‘Give me a break,’ she said.
‘Lives have been lost in two minutes,’ said Hitch.
‘Oh, come on man, what’s the big deal?’
‘The “big deal”?’ pondered Hitch. ‘Let me think… well, I hear you can only breath-hold for one minute and one second so imagine if you were waiting for me to rescue you, and you were stuck underwater, and I took a whole two minutes to get there. You’d be all out of air kid.’
‘You were waiting in the car. You weren’t exactly in total mortal danger.’
‘You didn’t know that.’
‘OK, OK,’ said Ruby. ‘I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.’
‘I wouldn’t bet on it,’ said Hitch. ‘Listening to advice isn’t what you do best.’
‘Well, since we are busy “sharing” here then might I suggest that giving people the benefit of the doubt isn’t one of your strengths?’
Hitch pointed at Ruby’s T-shirt and said, ‘Your T-shirt is on the money kid, so zip it.’
He backed out of the driveway and they drove in silence to Desolate Cove. As the name sort of suggested, no one much visited this place – it had no sand and was nearly always windswept and rarely warm. Hitch parked behind a steep bank of pines, the vehicle hidden from view, and he and Ruby set about zipping their jackets and pulling on rubber waders. In silence they walked across the pebble beach until they reached the place where the cliffs met the water.
‘Stay close to the rock kid,’ warned Hitch. ‘There’s a sudden drop to the left – very deep water and I’m not sure I can be bothered to fish you out.’ The sound of his words was almost drowned by the sound of the sea as it dragged through the stones of the beach, relentlessly pulling and pushing, almost like a chorus of whispering voices.
Here you could perhaps believe in the fisherman’s legend of the sea devil and the sea witch.
The water reached almost to the top of Ruby’s waders and she just barely managed to keep from getting soaked. She had no idea where they were headed or why, but she guessed there must be a pretty good reason for this little jaunt.
They made it round the next sharp corner and then there it was: a hidden low opening in the cliff, not so much a cave, more like a large niche, just big enough to conceal…
… a scuba sub.
‘Kinda cool,’ said Ruby.
‘You have no idea,’ said Hitch.
A metallic pod-like thing, the sub had a reflective glass dome on top.
‘The glass is four inches thick,’ said Hitch. ‘Allows the sub to dive to depths of five miles. When submerged, the light bounces off it in such a way that it is just about invisible.’
‘Even cooler,’ said Ruby casually, like she’d seen a whole bunch of scuba subs in her time.
Hitch raised his eyes heavenwards and depressed a button on his watch and the glass lid slid back. There looked to be enough space to seat three passengers comfortably and four at a squeeze. It looked worryingly unstable and Ruby was concerned that it would tip as she climbed in.
‘Plenty of agents bigger than you have found themselves jumping into this thing, trying to make a fast getaway,’ said Hitch. ‘And I can assure you kid, it never rolls over… so long as you don’t slip, you won’t drown. If you do, it’s anyone’s guess.’
Ruby gave him a sideways look, then climbed in very carefully and buckled up. Hitch took a key from a well-concealed compartment, slotted it into the ignition, turned it this way, that way, another way and then the engine began to purr.
After fiddling with some switches, and once the roof was locked into place, Hitch pushed a lever and they moved forward, dipping smoothly under the waves. The cliff ledge suddenly disappeared and the sub moved into deep water.
‘Keep your safety belt fastened!’ said Hitch, as he pulled on another of the controls and the scuba sub suddenly jetted forward at great speed, silently cutting through the ocean. Things on either side of them vanished into a blur as they passed by.
‘How do you avoid colliding with a whale?’ asked Ruby, who was sort of pinned to her seat, enjoying the ride, but not yet entirely relaxed.
‘Automatic Avoidance Sonar,’ said Hitch. ‘I’ve never hit anything yet kiddo!’
It was a thrill to travel so fast – better than any amusement park – but Ruby wouldn’t have minded slowing it down a little, taking some time to look at the scenery. In the blink of an eye they reached another rock face; this one seemed to be covered in petrified insects – sort of prehistoric-looking flies and insect fossils.
‘We’re stopping here?’ asked Ruby.
‘Not exactly,’ said Hitch, pressing one of the buttons on the control panel.
What looked like solid rock suddenly corkscrewed open and they entered a water-filled channel.
They navigated their way up the passage until they reached a dead end, a round pool. Hitch switched off the engine and a platform under the sub lifted them and their vehicle out of the water.
They had arrived.
Ruby assumed this entrance must be the latest ‘way in’ to Spectrum HQ since it was not unusual for the location to be moved several times a month.
‘So this is Spectrum?’ said Ruby.
‘Not exactly,’ said Hitch.
‘What does that mean?’
‘This kid is Spectrum’s Sea Division, Spectrum 5. Sea Division, as the name would suggest, is always located somewhere at sea.’
‘So, given that we work for Spectrum 8, what are we doing here?’ asked Ruby.
‘Spectrum 5 have been working on a case that might cross over with a case that Spectrum 8 have been looking into – LB thought it might be an idea to join forces.’
As they walked, some of the slick white corridors became clear glass-tube passageways, and fish swam by on the other side – sunfish, rockfish, cardinal fish, kelpfish, garibaldi, stingrays, and a thousand others. It was sort of like being in a giant aquarium, though the fish might well conclude it was the people who were the exhibits here.
It was strange for Ruby to enter Spectrum as a fully paid-up agent in training. She stifled a smile, remembering that at the tender age of thirteen she had already achieved her lifetime ambition of becoming an undercover secret agent for one of the most undercover and secret of secret agencies in the world.
She looked around her at the huge domed space with its glass floor and sealife moving underfoot.
‘Hey kid!’ shouted Hitch. ‘Want to look lively? LB’s waiting.’
Ruby had taken off her jacket and slung it over her shoulder so it was again possible to read the slogan written in bold letters across her T-shirt: excuse me while I yawn.
Hitch paused a minute. ‘Kid, my advice? Put your jacket back on and zip it right up – LB sees that and she might not find it so funny.’
‘She not in a good mood?’ Ruby called across the hall.
‘I doubt that sincerely kid. That diver who just washed up dead on the beach – he was one of ours and losing an agent always puts a crimp in her day.’
HITCH LED THE WAY DOWN A STEEPLY SLOPING PASSAGE that wound round and round and seemed like it must spiral right through the seabed. When they reached a black circular door, Hitch punched in some numbers and they were admitted to the screening room.
The room was full of agents and Spectrum staff, sitting in cinema-style seats which all faced a large white screen. There was a buzz in the air, everyone knew something big had happened, but few knew exactly what had gone down. Ruby tried to get her bearings, looked around – unfortunately straight into the eyes of Agent Froghorn (he of the silent G). He made much of pointing to his watch, indicating that it was way past her bedtime, and Ruby mouthed a word not to be repeated. Agent Redfort and Agent Froghorn were never likely to exchange birthday cards.
Sea Divison headquarters had much in common with Spectrum 8 HQ, but there were some very obvious differences, the main one being: when you looked out of the window you saw water. Agent Trent-Kobie, head of Sea Division, had been called away on urgent business and so the briefing was to be given by the boss of Spectrum 8.
LB.
Dressed all in white, LB walked into the room – and instantly the chatting stopped. LB had this effect on people. She was immaculately dressed but for her feet, which were bare, red nail polish perfectly applied to her toes. The head of Spectrum 8 did not much care for shoes of any kind and was rarely seen in footwear.
When she reached the front, where the microphone stood, she dropped a perspex file onto the small table to her side, and launched right in.
‘So, as you will know by now, Agent Trilby’s body was found on Sunday evening – he had been diving off the coast not far from Twinford Bay beach. During the past month he has been investigating unusual ocean activity – strange behaviour of marine life. There has been a lot of unusual ocean activity recently and it can all be found in Agent Trilby’s report.’ She continued to go through example after example of things that had been occurring just off the coast of Twinford.
Dolphins refusing to leave the bay, seagulls flocking inland, fishing stock low.
‘As we all know,’ continued LB, ‘Trilby was a very proficient diver and it is highly unlikely that he would have drowned in normal circumstances. We are still waiting for the autopsy, but it would seem that he was unfortunate enough to come into contact with something like a stingray or an electric eel. There is evidence of bruising to his leg that still needs to be explained, but we feel it’s likely that he encountered this sort of creature and this either led to a cardiac arrest or a severe shock that in turn led to drowning.’
It couldn’t have been a stinging creature that killed him, thought Ruby, Trilby would definitely have utilised his Spectrum-issue anti-sting Miracle serum. It was a comfort to know that every diving agent had this life-saver with them even if it couldn’t guard against shocks and bites.
LB pushed her glasses back up to the bridge of her nose. ‘Yes?’ she said, spotting a raised hand.
