Ruby Redfort 1 - Look Into My Eyes (25 page)

“Yeah but, Rube, this is different. I’ve seen her before but not in Twinford.”

“So? You saw her somewhere else.” Ruby was concentrating on getting a piece of stringy melted cheese into her mouth.

Clancy didn’t take his eyes off the woman. “She’s taking an awful lot of pictures.”

“No law against it,” said Ruby.

“I’ve seen her with a camera before — I know I have. There’s something about her that’s giving me a funny feeling.”

Ruby gave him one of her sideways stares. “You sure, Clance?”

“Yeah, I got one of my hunches, Rube, trust me on this.”

“I trust you, Clance — never doubt the Clancy Crew funny feeling is what I always say.”

Clancy nodded. “You think we should follow her?”

“Why not?” said Ruby, flicking crumbs from her jeans.

They waited until the woman had gotten halfway across the tree-filled square before they began to tail her. It wasn’t difficult because it was a sunny day and there were lots of people out strolling with their dogs, and this provided good cover.

They followed the woman until she disappeared into the revolving doors of the Grand Twin Hotel, and sneaked in behind a young couple and their four arguing children. Ruby noticed the concierge give the redhead a key to room 524 and watched as she made her way to the elevators. As she disappeared from view, Ruby spied an unattended room-service trolley in the corridor — it looked like it was on its way to someone’s suite, though the waiter was nowhere to be seen. Without saying a word Ruby walked over to it and pushed it toward an open elevator. Clancy followed nervously.

“Stop twitching, Clance, you’ll get us caught — confidence is everything.” She pressed the button for the fifth floor.

“Now what?” said Clancy.

“Now, take off your sweater.”

“Why?” asked Clancy.

“Because you got a white shirt on, that’s why. And if you wrap this tablecloth around your waist you’ll look like a waiter — see?”

“I’m thirteen years old, Ruby, and skinny as a string bean. Nobody’s gonna mistake me for a hotel waiter.”

“Will you just believe me!” hissed Ruby.

“OK, I’ll believe you, Rube, but I don’t think anyone else will.”

They wheeled the trolley along the fifth-floor corridor until they got to room 524, at which point Ruby crawled under the trolley and hid herself beneath the tablecloth.

“Now what?” whispered Clancy.

“Knock,” hissed Ruby.

“I was afraid you were gonna say that,” said Clancy, before knocking so quietly that it was a wonder anyone heard.

The door was opened by the redhead, holding a telephone and deep in conversation with the person on the other end.

“Sorry, Bobby — someone’s at the door,” she said into the receiver. “Yes?” She was looking hard at Clancy.

“Room service,” said Clancy doubtfully.

“I didn’t order room service,” said the woman, fumbling for her glasses.

Clancy didn’t say anything until he felt a sharp pinch to his right leg.

“Compliments of the hotel,” he blurted.

“OK, put it over there,” the woman said, gesturing over to the far side of the room. She squinted. “Pretty young for a waiter, aren’t you?”

“I’m older than I look,” Clancy assured her.

“You better be because you look about nine.”

Clancy decided he did not like this woman.

She resumed her telephone conversation. “Look, I’m going to have to go in a minute, Bobby, I need to wash this tint out before my hair turns scarlet.”

While Clancy was pretending he knew how to set up a room service trolley, the woman disappeared into the bathroom. Ruby, hearing the door close and the sound of the shower being turned on, stuck her nose out from under the tablecloth.

“All clear,” said Clancy.

Ruby looked around. “So what are we searching for?” asked Clancy.

“I don’t know, evidence.”

“Of what?”

“How should I know, Clance, you’re the one with the hunch — would you stop asking questions and get looking.”

Ruby was by now rifling through papers and notebooks while Clancy tried on some overly large tinted glasses he had found lying on the table. There were several pairs, all equally huge but in different shapes and colors.

“Cool,” said Clancy.

After about five and a half minutes Ruby came to a pile of photographs scattered on the desk — they looked pretty boring and appeared to have been taken in some sort of airport bar or lounge.She flicked through them quickly until she came to a picture of some people she recognized standing in a crowd at the bar — even though it was a back view and even though you could only see part of their heads, there was no mistaking that the people in the photograph were her parents.

It was perfectly obvious that the photographer had not intended to snap the Redforts; they had just gotten in the way. No, the subject was someone else some distance away from the photographer. A small man with a huge gray mustache was staring straight into the camera, and when Ruby looked into his eyes she felt a cold shiver shoot up her spine — she had no idea who the man was but the look on his face was one of pure terror. The following pictures showed the man turning, pushing through the crowd, knocking into a woman — her mother? Making for the doors, disappearing from view — and two men in dark suits — were they tailing him?

“Look at this, Clance.” Ruby was holding the photo, the one of her parents. “Recognize anyone you know?”

Clancy stared at the picture for a full thirty seconds before saying, “Well, yes, I do actually — that man in the background, the one with the huge mustache, I saw him the other night.”

“What do you mean you saw him the other night?” exclaimed Ruby.

“It was when I came over — while you were making fruit drinks in the kitchen. Your mom and dad were going through their slides — boy, were you ever right, it was super boring. Remind me not to do that again. . . . I mean maybe I’m wrong, but to me, one picture of snow looks very much like another?”

“Clance, would you just get on with it.”

“Well, this guy with the mustache was in one of the slides — he’s the guy who spilled that drink all over your mom’s jacket.”

“But why would this woman in the shower have pictures of a funny-looking guy like that?” said Ruby.

“That’s the other thing,” said Clancy. “The woman — I’ve remembered where I saw her before, she’s in the background of one of your mom and dad’s pictures.”

Ruby said nothing. She was staring hard at the photograph. “So what you are saying is that the man with the mustache, my mom, my dad, and the redhead were all at the same airport together.”

“I didn’t say they were together,” said Clancy, walking over to the sideboard.

“No, that’s right, they weren’t
together
but they are connected somehow, so what’s the connection?” said Ruby.

“They were all flying to Twinford?”

“Well, we don’t know that for sure, we know my Mom and Dad were, and we know the redhead lady is here, but the mustache guy, well, he could be in Hong Kong for all we know.”

“Hey, Rube, look at this!” Clancy held a small diamond-encrusted revolver in his hands.

“What are you doing! Will you put that down!”

Clancy went to put the gun back where he had found it but it slipped from his fingers and clattered noisily onto the floor.

“Hey, what’s going on out there?” shouted the woman.

Ruby jumped, the photos tumbling out of her hands. “Let’s get outta here,” she hissed.

“Sorry, ma’am!” called Clancy, grappling to replace the gun. “All done! Just leaving!”

The two of them made a dash for the door. Once in the corridor they ran like crazy. They took the back stairs, which led them out into a narrow alley, which joined Derwent Street. Then they ran through Twinford Square, and all the way along Chance; they ran and ran until they turned the corner of Amster Street and collapsed, out of breath, outside the Double Donut Diner.

“Oh, boy . . . that was . . . close,” said Clancy barely able to get the words out. “Remind me never . . . to get involved in one of your . . . hair-brained schemes . . . again.”

“You should talk — it was your hunch, and if you hadn’t been so clumsy then —” she stopped midsentence.

“Clancy, where did you get those glasses?”

Clancy looked at his reflection in the window of the Double Donut Diner. “Whoops,” he said, “I forgot to put them back on the table — I guess they belong to that lady. It’s OK, though, she will probably think I picked them up by accident, thinking they were mine.”

“Oh yeah, Clance, that’s highly likely, they are after all exactly as big as your whole entire face — I’m sure she will think it’s a simple mistake. Some spy you are, I would recognize those glasses anywhere . . . a-n-y-w-h-e-r-e . . .” Ruby broke off. “I take it back. You’re a genius, Clance my old pal. A genius!”

“What? What did I do?” stammered Clancy.

“I just realized where I saw those glasses before — this woman today, she practically ran my mom off the road. Well, she was wearing those glasses.”

“But why would she try to run your mom off the road?” asked Clancy.

“That’s what I gotta figure out,” said Ruby. “Hey, look, I gotta go, I need to do some thinking — there’s a lot I’ve been missing, Clance, A LOT.”

WHEN RUBY FORCED HER WAY THROUGH
the gate and hurtled up the path she saw the back door was standing open. She bolted through and up the kitchen stairs. “Where’s Hitch?”

Consuela just looked at her and said, “Why is everyone in such a big hurry?”

Ruby didn’t have the breath to answer questions. “Hitch . . . where?” she repeated.

“He’s loading the car,” said Consuela sulkily.

“What?”

“He’s leaving — good-bye —
adiós
!”

Ruby turned and ran back down the stairs and out to the garage. She found Hitch pushing his case into the trunk of the silver convertible.

“Where you going?”

“That’s confidential, kid.”

“What? I read every one of Lopez’s files, spent some time in her brain, but now everything’s
confidential
?”

“That’s about it, kid. When you’re in, you’re in; when you’re out, you’re out.”

“OK, well, you might change your mind when you hear this,” said Ruby.

“What is it? I got a plane to catch in less than”— Hitch looked at his watch —“seventeen minutes.”

“OK,” said Ruby, “it all started this evening when I was eating pizza with Clancy.”

Hitch rolled his eyes heavenward and pulled on his jacket. “Save it, kid. It will be a nice story for when I get back.”

“Nice story? You have to be kidding — this isn’t some fairy tale, you know.”

“Kid, I’ve got work to do.”

“Look, buster, are you gonna listen for seventy-five seconds?” There was something in Ruby’s voice that made Hitch stop short.

“OK, I’ll listen if you can talk fast — but I’ve only got about sixty now, so when I say fast, I mean fast.”

“OK,” said Ruby. “As I was saying, it all started this evening when I was eating pizza. Although I guess it all really started before that when my parents’ luggage went missing and then we got robbed and then there’s this maniac in big glasses who bumped into our car on the highway.”

Hitch looked at her like she had gone stark raving mad. “What?” he said.

“The redhead,” said Ruby. “She keeps sorta appearing . . .”

“What on earth are you talking about, kid? You aren’t even half making sense.”

“Well, this redhead walked by and Clancy was sorta intrigued because she was acting a bit suspicious and he thought he had seen her before somewhere strange but he couldn’t put his finger on where, and so I say ‘let’s tail her’— so we did. She went back to the Grand Twin Hotel and Clancy kinda dressed up like a waiter and we got into her room and kinda checked it out.”

“You
kinda
checked it out?” repeated Hitch, incredulous.

“It was just a hunch. Clancy gets these hunches and I have learned it is often wise to follow them up.”

“OK, kid, so you find yourself in a complete stranger’s hotel room. What do you do next? I’m all ears.”

“When she’s in the shower we go through her stuff.”

“You go through her
stuff
?” said Hitch, appalled.

“Well, Clance doesn’t, he just tries on her glasses. Boy, did he look a sight.”

“You break into a woman’s hotel room and Clancy tries on her glasses?”

“What, is there an echo out here? Look we didn’t
break in,
we
conned
our way in.”

“Oh, that makes it so much
better
. So Clancy gets a hunch, and
cons
his way into an innocent woman’s hotel room; she takes a shower while you ransack the joint.”

“Look that’s what I’m getting at, she ain’t so
innocent
. I think she is somehow involved.”

“Involved in what?” asked Hitch, who was very near the end of his rope.

“I’m not exactly sure, but involved in something,” said Ruby.

“
Involved in something.
What does that mean?” Just then Hitch’s watch beeped. He looked at the flashing dial, pressed the
Speak
button, and extended the antenna. “Yes, I’m on my way. Over.”