A murmur travelled through the briefing theatre, no one quite understanding what the point of the briefing was if no one was authorised to know what the missing thing actually was.
‘I cannot tell you because I do not know,’ said Agent Deneuve. ‘I do not know because I am not authorised to know, and if I am not authorised to know then I must assume that I do not need to know.’
‘So,’ ventured another agent, ‘how do we know that this item has actually been taken?’
Agent Deneuve peered at him disdainfully. ‘Take my word for it, Agent –’ she made a big deal of trying to read his name badge – ‘Dunst, that’s your job after all.’
The agent shuffled uncomfortably in his seat.
‘All Spectrum 8 need concern itself with is this: make sure security is kept tight and surveillance is maintained at the highest level. We need to bring these criminals in, and swiftly, without an almighty news story – simple as that.’
‘Given that Spectrum staff know the location of the DOD base and could potentially access the code to enter it, is it possible that the prototype has been taken by a person on the Spectrum team?’ asked Blacker.
Dixie Deneuve blinked. ‘Anything is possible, agent. But at present we are operating on the assumption that it’s an outside job. Although the circumstances surrounding the theft are. . . troubling.’
She paused. ‘We know of various criminals who are interested in our research with the military. It is impossible to keep secrets from everybody. But as far as it is possible, we keep tabs on them, we endeavour to know roughly where they are at any given time. For now what we need to focus on is how the intruder gained access rather than why. If we knew the answer to that first question it might help lead us in the right direction.’
She clicked a switch and the slide projector came on. The first image appeared.
This face was familiar to Ruby – she remembered it all too well from her first case protecting the Jade Buddha of Khotan.
‘Nine lives,’ announced Agent Deneuve, ‘aka Valerie Capaldi. She’s dead, we know this for a certainty, but what we are interested in knowing is the whereabouts of her sometime sidekick.’
Click.
‘Fenton Oswald, a renowned jewel thief, based in Berlin and as far as we are aware, still there – we had a confirmed sighting of him just yesterday. He without doubt has the ability needed to mastermind a plan of this nature.’
Click went the projector; more slides, more faces.
The Count Von Viscount; last seen walking along the seafront of Nice.
‘He has a hideaway there,’ said Deneuve. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me if he was involved somehow; he just feeds off a mystery and the stealing of this item is nothing if not mysterious.’
Next came Hog-trotter, and Agent Deneuve shivered and moved on. It seemed he wasn’t a suspect – ‘Doing a little jail time,’ said Deneuve, ‘a minor misdemeanour involving some unpaid parking tickets but enough to put him out of action.’
Up came another slide, another familiar face.
‘Babyface Marshall, still incarcerated and unlikely to be released this side of this century.’
Click.
‘Lorelei von Leyden was involved in our most recent case and her whereabouts are at this precise time unknown.’
Click. ‘But although we perhaps have many pictures of her. . .’
Click. A picture of a seemingly different woman came up. ‘We might just as well have none since she is a human chameleon.’
Click. Another woman, now with blonde hair. ‘We might know what she looked like yesterday.’
Click. Now she looked Chinese. ‘But we have no idea what she looks like today.’
Click, click, click. Eight slides, eight very different-looking women.
‘As for the Australian, aka the woman with the blue eyes, whom Agent Redfort almost lost her life to, she is still very much an unknown. Apart from one piece of security camera footage we are pretty much scratching our heads here.’ A very blurry image was projected onto the screen.
‘So let me get this straight, we have nothing?’ said Blacker.
‘For now,’ said Deneuve. ‘But all Spectrum agents in all Spectrum divisions in all departments are expected to work every line of intelligence.’
‘Looks like it’s going to be a long night,’ said Hitch.
‘Too bad,’ sighed Ruby, ‘there’s a Crazy Cops double bill on TV tonight.’
The transmitter was
buzzing and working its way
across the steel table top. . .
. . .He picked it up and accepted the call. ‘Yes?’ he said.
‘I know what you’re up to, Birdboy.’
‘I don’t follow.’
‘You don’t think I read the papers?’
Silence.
‘You’re famous, Twinford is enthralled, all this breaking and entering, all this petty theft, yet no sign of who it could be.’
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’
‘I think you should stop lying, it’s embarrassing.’
‘I told you, I have no idea what you are talking about.’
‘Just hand it over. . . or face the consequences.’
RUBY WAS DOWNSTAIRS EATING HER BREAKFAST – she’d had a bit of a late start having worked through the night and was enjoying just hanging out in the kitchen listening to Twinford Talk Radio. She had it turned up really loud and almost missed the sound of the phone ringing in her bedroom. She took the stairs two at a time and reached it just before it clicked through to answer phone.
‘Twinford pest control, we spray to kill.’
‘Rube?’
‘Roaches or rats, sir?’
‘This is no time for kidding around, I’m in deep trouble, I tell you, deep.’
‘What is it Clance, are you OK, are you injured or something?’
‘No, but I will be if you don’t think of something quick and by quick I sorta mean now!’
‘OK but first you gotta explain. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.’
‘OK,’ said Clancy, breathing hard, ‘so you know how I was meant to be searching the ads for a restorer to fix my mom’s Louis XV dressing table because it’s not looking so good on account of Minny’s hair dye?’
‘Yeah,’ said Ruby, patiently.
‘So I couldn’t get hold of an emergency repair service and I’m thinking Minny is going to get grounded for like the rest of her entire life and that kinda sucks. . . so. . .’
Ruby