On arrival, Buzz informed Ruby that LB wanted a word, and she was to wait outside her office. Ruby stared at the huge optical painting that hung on the wall in the waiting area. She didn’t hear the soft padding of her boss’s bare feet, not even when they were just two steps away.
‘Pleased to hear your parents aren’t dead Redfort.’ And that was about as touchy-feely as the head of Spectrum 8 was ever going to get. LB moved right along as if personal talk was in some way distasteful.
‘It’s my thinking that this case is about a whole lot more than confused shipping and pirates and pleasure boats. Would you agree?’
Ruby nodded. LB was looking at her in that LB way as if she expected Ruby to produce the name and address of the person responsible. The Spectrum 8 boss paused for a second and then said, ‘We have a list as long as a clown’s arm of strange ocean occurrences, but what does it all add up to?’
Ruby didn’t have an answer; she felt like she was thinking through treacle.
‘You’re going to need to step it up Redfort. Stop paddling around, and start using that brain of yours, get involved.’
Ruby nodded dumbly. ‘Sure,’ she said. ‘I mean I will, I am. I’m working on something actually.’
‘One would hope so,’ said LB. ‘Spectrum doesn’t employ you to sit on your behind twiddling your thumbs.’ She walked towards the elevator and pressed for level four, then turned and said, ‘Oh, and by the way, a fisherman was found drowned in his own rowboat, how’s that for a puzzle? The report’s on my desk, you might want to read it.’ The elevator door slid across and she was gone.
Ruby did find that curious. It was like one of those riddles, similar to that one about the diver found drowned in the middle of a fire-ravaged forest. There was always a logical explanation if you thought about it long enough. To have drowned in your own boat, alone, meant there must have been water on-board. A person could drown in just a few inches, but anyone but a baby would have to be unconscious to do so. She walked into LB’s office, picked up the file from off the desk and began reading immediately.
The report said nothing about signs of a bump to the head or the man having been drunk; this was no accident, far from it. However, there were clear signs that someone had tried to strangle him, but not with their hands, the injuries didn’t fit with that. Perhaps the assailant had given up with the strangling and decided to drown him instead.
The conundrum was that the boat was found way out at sea and there were no signs to suggest another occupant. So therefore, the fisherman must have been attacked either by a diver, who then swam away, or by someone who sailed by, boarded the boat, drowned him and left the scene. But then this didn’t make sense. Why would you drown a man and then pop him back in his boat? Why not make it look like an accident?
It was the sort of thing that happened in a Sherlock Holmes mystery, not just off the coast of Twinford.
‘Rats!’ said a voice, a man’s voice, flustered sounding.
She looked up to see Blacker hurrying across the Spectrum hall – he was balancing drinks and donuts and some hot coffee had just spilled down his sleeve.
‘Sorry Ruby, I’ve been with Sea Division and I couldn’t get the darned super sub to start and everything sorta slid from there. Boats and submarines just aren’t my thing.’
Once they were comfortable in the globe room, they started trying to figure out what they knew and what they didn’t know.
‘No one responded to the mayday call sent out by your mother, or the ones sent from the Runklehorns’ yacht, because it transpires that we were right: all maydays were blocked – deliberately blocked.’
Ruby nodded. ‘That figures.’
‘Given that your parents are not the only ones to have tussled with pirates – there have been several incidents – I think we can begin to imagine that pirates might be to blame for the blocked maydays.’
Ruby nodded again. ‘I thought so too. I guess they don’t want anyone to come to the victims’ rescue while they’re busy with their plundering. But why aren’t they going after the shipping?’
‘Yeah, I agree,’ said Blacker. ‘That doesn’t make sense. These men live to rob. It’s what they do – like sharks swim and eat, these men sail and steal, but why don’t they bother with the more valuable spoils?’
Ruby sighed. ‘It would mean there has to be something else they’re after, something that’s worth more to them than random cargo.’
Ruby and Blacker worked together for the next couple of hours and as they worked, they began to see a clear pattern evolving. The only boats that were attacked by pirates were small boats that came directly into the waters within a mile or so of the Sibling Islands. The larger tankers and shipping vessels couldn’t come so close because of the rocks, but anything that sailed within sight of the Sibling Islands was steered off course, taking them as far away from the area as was possible.
It looked random, but it really wasn’t.
‘They’re trying to keep people away from the waters around the Sibling Islands,’ said Ruby. ‘They aren’t particularly interested in robbing them, they just want shot of them.’
‘And that isn’t too hard generally,’ said Blacker. ‘Most ships avoid the place anyway, apart from fishing boats, and even the fishing hasn’t been good lately. Most of the big shoals have gone.’
‘Yeah, Mrs Digby’s all upset about it,’ said Ruby.
‘Keen on fish, is she?’
‘Swears by it,’ said Ruby.
‘Well, Mrs Digby would be reassured to know Kekoa is investigating that,’ said Blacker. ‘But so far she still isn’t sure if the problem’s man-made or caused by some natural phenomenon.’ He tapped his pencil on the desk as he thought. ‘But what we do know is these guys must really want to keep folks away from the islands; they don’t want a soul observing what they’re up to.’
‘But what exactly could that be?’ pondered Ruby. ‘The islands are just rock.’
‘Yeah, and the waters around the islands can be very dangerous if you don’t know what you’re doing; the swells and currents are pretty strong,’ added Blacker.
‘Well, except for right now,’ said Ruby.
‘That’s right, your folks got lucky. Kekoa told me about that asteroid.’
‘Yeah,’ said Ruby. ‘Galactic activity certainly seems to be fitting in with someone’s plans.’
‘But plans for what?’ said Blacker.
That question Ruby didn’t have an answer for, but she knew a good place to start looking.
RULE 53: IF SOMETHING IS WORTH KNOWING, CHANCES ARE IT’S WRITTEN DOWN SOMEWHERE.
I speak the truth
TWINFORD WAS AN OLD TOWN, now considered a city: one that continued to grow and sprawl desert-wards. Tall, sleek buildings appeared to the north side, but the centre of town was carefully preserved and protected by the Twinford Historical Society. The buildings – old, beautiful and full of history – attracted tourists from far-flung places as well as neighbouring towns.
In the very middle of Twinford, just near the City Museum and City Bank, stood the City Library. A magnificent and imposing piece of architecture that announced its importance in Latin, via the motto carved across the front: Ipsa scientia potestas est.
Ruby loved this place, and always had: so many books,