Читать книгу The Ruby Redfort Collection: 4-6: Feed the Fear; Pick Your Poison; Blink and You Die - Lauren Child - Страница 41

‘OUR THEORY WAS CORRECT,’ said Blacker, ‘our thief did make a mistake when he went into Mr Baradi’s. And did then break into the right place.’

‘Huh,’ said Ruby. She had forgotten to turn her transmitter off on the Escape Watch and Blacker’s voice had pierced through her unconscious and dragged her from her dreams.

‘Our theory was correct, re: the window thief.’

‘Your theory,’ said Ruby, ‘I can’t take credit for it.’ She stumbled to her desk and picked up a pencil. ‘So which apartment was it that got burgled?’

‘25C,’ said Blacker, ‘I think he came in the window of 26C, couldn’t find what he wanted, opened the front door to check he had the right apartment number, saw he had screwed up and went back out the window.’

‘Why didn’t he just decide to take the stairs?’ She was noting down everything Blacker was saying.

‘It’s not his style – anyway, maybe he’s no locksmith, maybe to him, climbing in through the window is easier than breaking a lock, who can say?’ said Blacker. ‘Or maybe he’s just making a point.’

Ruby stretched her arms out, yawning. ‘What time is it, man?’

‘You’re not up? Aren’t you supposed to be school-bound?’ said Blacker.

She reached for her glasses and peered at her bird alarm clock.

‘Yeah.’ She yawned again. ‘So what are you saying? He climbed down a level and came in the window of 25C, is that it?’

‘Yup, so the guy who owns the place, a Mr Norgaard, is away, but a neighbour noticed the door was unlocked; he comes by once a week to water the plants and check on the place while the owner’s out of town.’

‘Very neighbourly of him,’ said Ruby.

‘Isn’t it,’ agreed Blacker. ‘So coincidentally the neighbour calls the cops yesterday evening having popped in for plant-watering duty and spotted something was wrong – one of the windows was open, and he swears he left it shut.’

‘Anything missing?’

‘Nothing obvious, evidently.’

‘But did he find a card?’ asked Ruby.

‘That I don’t know, I spoke to the detectives but they didn’t mention anything. That’s what we need to check out next.’ Blacker paused before adding, ‘So what lesson were you planning on being late for?’

‘You’re asking me to cut class,’ said Ruby.

‘Rube, you know I’d never interfere with a kid’s education.’

‘I’ll meet you there,’ she said. ‘I’ll just go find Hitch, he might wanna come along.’

‘He’s in with LB,’ said Blacker. ‘He’s been at Spectrum for most of the night.’

‘What’s happened?’ said Ruby.

‘Beats me,’ he said, ‘but something’s going down.’

Ruby skateboarded downtown, skitching a ride from a yellow cab and then a garbage truck (which didn’t smell too pretty).

She met Blacker on the sidewalk outside the apartment building.

‘Geez Redfort, did you switch perfumes or did you fall into something unmentionable?’

‘I skitched the wrong ride,’ said Ruby.

‘Huh?’

‘Never mind.’

Mr Grint, she was pretty sure it had to be Mr Grint, was in the lobby watching folks come and go. He watched her and Blacker as they made their way to the elevator and pressed the button for the twenty-fifth floor. The elevator was not in the first flush of youth and it made horrible groaning sighs as it climbed. They stepped out and walked along the corridor until they reached Mr Norgaard’s door. Blacker handed Ruby gloves and shoe covers; these looked ridiculous but served to preserve the crime scene from cross-contamination.

For a while, the two agents simply surveyed the scene. It was not a disorganised apartment, not especially untidy either. There were piles of books on the floor, piles of scripts too, but they were not without order. It was clear that Norgaard wasn’t a big entertainer because most of the chairs were also occupied by books, notebooks and paper-stacks – the furniture was more of a filing system than somewhere to sit.

There were a few papers strewn across the floor under the desk, but as Blacker suggested, perhaps the wind had caught these when the thief wrenched open the window. Apart from that it was all very orderly. It wasn’t at all obvious what had been removed from the apartment but it was safe to say something had been, for there on the desk was a little white calling card.

‘Bingo,’ said Blacker.

‘Only thing is,’ said Ruby scanning the desk, ‘what’s missing?’

They both looked at the desk. On it was a spider plant, a cactus, a pen pot, a stapler, a hole punch, a reel of sticky-tape in a tape dispenser, five paperweights on top of five different piles of papers, some envelopes, some cheques, some A4 typewritten sheets. There was a tin of lip balm, an eraser, a glasses case and a sheet of stamps.

‘A telephone?’ suggested Blacker.

‘Seems unlikely a thief would steal the telephone,’ said Ruby.

‘Seems unlikely a thief would steal a not so valuable book,’ said Blacker.

‘True, but still, a telephone?’ said Ruby.

‘I agree, unlikely,’ said Blacker. He pressed the transmitter button on his watch, no answer, so he tried again and this time the call connected and he spoke into the tiny speaker. ‘Hi Buzz, I am trying to locate Froghorn – could you get him on the line? I appreciate it.’ A pause. ‘Froghorn, could we ask the neighbour about the phone, I mean just to be sure, did he have one and if so where?’

They waited. After a few minutes they got their answer.

‘Mr Norgaard’s neighbour said Norgaard never had a phone on the desk,’ Blacker relayed, ‘because he didn’t want to be disturbed when he was writing.’

‘What does he write?’ asked Ruby.

‘He’s a scriptwriter,’ said Blacker.

‘No, I meant what does he write? TV? Film – anything I woulda heard of?’

‘Nothing I have ever heard of,’ said Blacker. ‘I’m not sure how successful he is, maybe not as successful as his father.’

‘His father is a scriptwriter?’

‘Was,’ said Blacker. ‘He wrote the screenplay for The Storm Snatcher and The Silent Scream.’

‘Two of Mrs Digby’s favourites,’ said Ruby, impressed. She looked again at the desk. ‘And the paperweights?’ she said. ‘What a lot of paperweights Mr Norgaard does have.’

It was the papers under the desk that made her think of it. Everything about Norgaard’s room was ordered, cluttered with scripts and papers, but all in order, except for the sheets under the desk – just why were they there?

‘What did the detectives say about the window?’ asked Ruby.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Just. . . did they say anything about it?’

‘Well, that’s an interesting thing. . .’ said Blacker. ‘They said that the intruder would have had no problem opening it because it was used regularly, slid up and down with no trouble at all. Unlike our friend Mr Baradi, it seems this guy liked fresh air, never had air-con installed.’

‘Which would explain why he used paperweights, not just decorative things but actually there to stop paper blowing around.’

‘That would be logical,’ agreed Blacker.

‘So. . . the papers under the desk don’t make sense – they don’t fit with the way Norgaard does things,’ Ruby said. ‘Look at the piles.’ Blacker looked. Every pile of papers was secured by a paperweight.

Blacker smiled. ‘You think one of his paperweights is missing.’

‘I do,’ said Ruby, ‘but which one?’

‘No way to know,’ said Blacker, ‘not without talking to Norgaard and who knows when he’s going to resurface?’

‘Yeah,’ said Ruby, ‘it’s too bad.’ She took her Polaroid camera from her backpack and started snapping pictures of the desk.

‘You know the TCPD will pass on a complete set of photographs, they took about a zillion of the apartment,’ said Blacker.

‘I know,’ said Ruby. ‘But I’m only really interested in the desk and this way I can look and look until I see the answer; it’s probably staring me in the face.’

She was right about this in a sense, but she was missing the big picture and without it she was never going to see what she needed to see. . .

‘So I see from reading

my morning paper that

you went shopping

again. . .’

‘. . . a nice high-rise on Avenue Walk.’

‘So?’

‘No one saw you.’

‘People only see what they expect to see.’

‘People only see what they are able to see; you’re cheating.’

‘You are mistaken.’

‘Don’t mess with me Birdboy – we both know you’ve got it and I’m coming after you.’

‘You’re trying to scare me?’

‘No, I’m warning you. I would hope that you were scared already. I am the living dead after all.’

‘I don’t scare, I have nothing to lose.’

‘How about your life?’

‘I lost that a long time ago.’