Page 22 of Look Into My Eyes


  Hitch looked at Clancy. He really wasn’t sure about this, but it was his only hope. “Your pal Ruby, do you happen to know if she might have taken something from Spectrum? A gadget?”

  “Nothing she told me about,” said Clancy.

  “You haven’t happened to see her with a key ring — one with little colored letter tiles that you can slide around?”

  “That? Yeah, but it’s not from Spectrum — it’s just some dumb old key ring she said she found.”

  Hitch smiled. “That’s no dumb old key ring — that’s a very sophisticated piece of Spectrum gadgetry,” he said, pulling Clancy out from the scrum and toward the rear staircase.

  “What do you mean?” called Clancy.

  “It’s a mini locator,” shouted Hitch. “Used to belong to one of the smartest agents who ever lived. Slide the tiles, form a word, and it sends me a signal.” He tapped his watch. “I got a hunch that I just might know where to find our friend Ruby.”

  Clancy looked at the little red light flashing on the dial. And then suddenly everything went dark.

  Outside the museum, dangling sixty feet above the ground, Ruby was beginning to lose her grip.

  Yikes, she thought, this is not a good situation.

  She wasn’t sure how long her fingers could hold on, but it was the branch that gave up first, crumbling in her hands.

  And she felt herself once more, tumbling through the air.

  By now the bank was crawling with security staff. Everyone from inside the museum was outside watching the bank. There were police cars everywhere, screaming sirens, and alarms setting off other alarms.

  But Hitch hardly heard them. All he could hear was the pounding of his heart as he ran down stone corridors, up steep stairways, all the way to the tower. He ran like a man possessed, he ran like his life depended on it.

  By the time Clancy Crew arrived at the heavy oak door, Hitch had already levered it open. Clancy Crew watched as green sand spilled out into the corridor and he watched as Hitch sank slowly to the floor. His head was in his hands, and the light on the little watch radar had gone out.

  “Rube?” whispered Clancy, crumpling to his knees.

  “I’m sorry, kid,” was all that Hitch could say.

  But Ruby Redfort was lucky: in fact she was lucky twice.

  First, because the power lines broke her fall, and second, because the explosion at the bank had extinguished the power.

  After she had checked that she was still alive, Ruby inched along the cables until she was dangling over a large, leafy shrub. She let go — not a cushy landing exactly but she was at least all in one piece, although she seemed to be missing a shoe.

  Nice going, Rube! A super great time to lose footwear.

  She couldn’t see a thing, let alone a small size 5 lost in a thicket.

  Having gotten her bearings, she picked herself up, then half ran, half limped toward the building. The place was totally deserted and all she could hear as she made her way down to the museum vaults was the commotion outside. Every last person was watching things unfold at the bank.

  Ruby wasn’t greatly surprised to find the basement door unlocked. It was just as the Count had promised — the lasers securing the entrance looked like they were active but the locks had failed and no doubt someone was already inside. Carefully, she pushed open the door and stepped into the dimly lit passage.

  Bang!

  Another explosion. More alarms. More sirens.

  And then the emergency lighting in the museum basement went out.

  Hitch was trying to pull himself together. It wasn’t easy. He was also trying to pull Clancy together, which was harder.

  “Clancy, listen to me. I have to get to the museum basement — to the vault. You go alert your dad’s security team — tell them it’s all about the Buddha. You have to convince them that the bank is a decoy — I know it doesn’t look that way but it is.”

  But Clancy wasn’t moving.

  Hitch clicked his fingers in front of Clancy’s face. “You hearing me, kid? I need your help.”

  Still nothing.

  Hitch slid over to the broken figure that was Ruby Redford’s closest friend and put his hands on his shoulders. “Kid, this shouldn’t have happened. It’s my fault, I realize that, but I think I know who did this and I think I know where to find him. I want to make sure he pays for what he’s done to Ruby — and I need your help.”

  Clancy looked up, his face gray and his eyes hollow.

  “Can I count on you, kid?”

  The boy nodded and got to his feet.

  “Here,” said Hitch. “Take my lucky lighter, it’s never let me down.”

  Trying to navigate the dark passageways was not easy — not without a flashlight. Ruby had memorized the basement plans, she knew them inside out, but the blackness was disorienting and she had little idea where she was or where she was going.

  But she hoped that wherever it was, she was going to make it in time.

  She felt a wave of panic as claustrophobia swept over her.

  Deep breaths, Rube — it’s just a little darkness, nothing else . . .

  Darkness and some crazy count who just tried to bury you alive.

  She moved as silently as she could. Don’t warn him. You have the advantage — he thinks you are dead. RULE 43: IF YOU’VE GOT THE ADVANTAGE — MAKE SURE YOU KEEP IT.

  She rounded the corner and there, bathed in a dim but beautiful light, sat the Jade Buddha of Khotan. More precious than gold. Even from where she crouched she could see that the carving was exquisite, the jade itself perfect translucent stone. She felt drawn to move closer but she resisted, knowing the Count couldn’t be far away. She was right — seconds later he appeared like magic from the pitch black, holding the glass key.

  Carefully, he pushed the key into a slot in the glass cylinder and the door slid open. In his left hand he held a silver metal tube. What was that? Then suddenly she saw a tiny beam of light shoot out. He seemed to be studying something — was it the eyes of the Buddha that interested him? Was he just marveling at the beauty of it or was there something else he was looking for?

  He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a notebook and fountain pen.

  He was writing something down.

  Why?

  “Well, well if it isn’t little Ruby slippers, the snoopiest kid on the block.”

  Without even turning around, Ruby recognized the sweet voice of Baby Face Marshall.

  “Oh cripes! Not you again.”

  By now Hitch was standing outside the museum basement door. He pushed the transmitter button on his watch. “Blacker, you there? Blacker, are you receiving me?”

  Nothing. It was the same with the other agents. OK, one last try — you better be there, LB.

  Five seconds later LB came on the line. “Speak.”

  “The explosion at the bank — it’s a bluff, a distraction. They are after the Jade Buddha, and I’m pretty sure we are dealing with the Count. It has all the hallmarks of his work. He’s got his hands on the key. He’s the one who took Ruby, I just know it.”

  “Where is she now?” said LB.

  Hitch paused. “I’m afraid the kid . . .” His voice faltered. “She didn’t have a chance.”

  LB took a sharp breath as if she had something to say, but no words came out.

  “Look, I’m going after him — find me some backup.” His transmitter cut out.

  Clancy meanwhile was lost. Galleries stretched in every direction and with only the flame from Hitch’s lighter it was difficult to work out where the nearest exit might be. Every door seemed to lead him to another. For all he knew he could be running in spirals — destined never to find a way out, like a fly trapped in a jar.

  Hitch switched on his agent-issue flashlight. It had a powerful directional beam and he was able to sweep light across the main corridor — passageways zigzagged every which way.

  He recognized the various twists and turns from the museum plans he had studied. It w
as no trouble navigating; he was trained to find his way in impossible conditions. The tricky thing was second-guessing any surprises that might come along the way. In the maze of passageways it had been deathly quiet but as he moved farther and farther into the museum vaults he thought he heard a voice — or rather voices.

  Two of them.

  Clancy flicked on the lighter. There it was:

  EXIT TO MUSEUM GARDEN.

  About time, he muttered as he leaned hard on the door and fell out into the warm night air. He was now at the back of the building. He would have to run around the north side to get to the square. He held the flame up and looked for the path. Something glinted. It was red and seemed to sparkle. He walked over to take a closer look. A red shoe, a very small red shoe. He smiled.

  Rube, I got a funny feeling you’re not dead. And I have a hunch I know exactly where to find you.

  The Count carefully locked the glass case, slipped the key into his jacket pocket, and walked slowly over to where Ruby stood. “Ms. Redfort, you do surprise me. I am not sure whether I should be delighted or disappointed that you escaped the tower. Am I getting sloppy, or are you remarkable?”

  “Mm, that’s a hard one to call. I’d hate to hurt your feelings, so let’s just go with me being remarkable.”

  The Count nodded. “What courage you have for someone so small and defenseless — quite admirable.”

  Ruby had her eyes trained on the Count’s pocket.

  “Yeah, well you know, I’ve grown quite fond of you too.”

  The Count laughed. He couldn’t help liking this gutsy schoolgirl from Twinford — it was only a shame to see such talent wasted. “So what can I do for you?”

  “Back there in the tower, I felt we really hit it off — and you are such good company,” said Ruby, giving the Count a little dig with her elbow.

  “Understandable, I’m sure,” the Count replied. “Your stupid parents must be quite a burden to you.”

  Ruby felt the glass object in her palm. “Speaking of stupid, you really shouldn’t leave your valuables lying around — they can so easily get into the wrong hands.” She held the key up in front of his face.

  For a second the Count was thrown. “How did you . . .?” Then he made a grab for it. Ruby tossed the glass key high into the air and it made a tiny tinkling sound as it hit the stone floor somewhere in the pitch-blackness of the vault.

  The Count laughed. “Oh, dear Ms. Redfort — you think because the key is glass that it will therefore break? I’m afraid you are mistaken.”

  This unfortunately was true. Ruby had indeed assumed that a key made of glass would certainly shatter into a hundred pieces.

  “Well, good luck finding it before the clock strikes twelve,” she said, trying to hold on to her bravado.

  Baby Face was gripping Ruby by the hair. “What do you suggest I do now?”

  The Count smiled. “Oh, you know — kill her.”

  THE MUTTERINGS WERE GETTING LOUDER; Hitch knew he was getting near. He switched off the flashlight and followed the voices. Were there three now? A dim green light was filtering out from under a door — suddenly it opened and Hitch’s heart leaped as he watched Ruby being half dragged, half marched across the passageway by none other than Baby Face Marshall.

  Not dead, thought Hitch, just furious.

  Ruby wasn’t taking it lying down. “I don’t like people messing with my hair, buster!”

  “You tell him, kid,” hissed Hitch, his hand reaching for his revolver.

  Clancy was standing by the basement door. Unlike Hitch and Ruby he had not studied any plans, and was unlikely to make it through the maze of corridors. What to do? Should he go in or get help?

  As it turned out he didn’t have to make a choice. An elegant hand reached around and took him by the throat.

  “Hello, waiter boy, you looking for something?”

  Hitch had his gun trained on Baby Face and was waiting for him to relax his hold on Ruby. No, too risky. He would have to creep up behind him, take him by surprise.

  Baby Face was enjoying the moment.

  “So you think you are pretty smart, huh? Clever enough to outwit me?”

  “It wasn’t so hard,” said Ruby. “You see, Baby Face, you aren’t a good checker — you left me with a very handy gadget, a lifesaver as it turns out. Always check the prisoner for lifesaving gadgets. Don’t they teach you that in creep school?”

  Baby Face didn’t like that, he didn’t like it at all. He wasn’t going to be told his job by some teenage brat. He reached into his back pocket to pull out his knife and as he did, Hitch ran out of the shadows, karate chopped him in the back of the neck, and Baby Face Marshall slumped to the floor.

  “Nice to see you, kid.”

  “About time you showed up,” said Ruby. “Thought you must have been busy stuffing yourself with canapés.”

  “Canapés? Nah, they give me indigestion.” He took a good look at her. “You OK, Ruby?”

  “Never felt better,” said Ruby, smoothing her hair and dusting herself off.

  There was a buzz and suddenly light as the power came back on, and there was Valerie Capaldi standing in the doorway, holding a diamond revolver to Clancy Crew’s temple.

  “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the secret agent extraordinaire and his little pet.”

  “Hello, Nine Lives,” said Hitch. “I almost didn’t recognize you — something about you is different, more distinguished somehow. . . . It could be the red hair, or perhaps it’s the scar. You know it suits you — adds character.”

  Valerie Capaldi scowled. “You’re going to regret that you disfigured me. I’m going to kill you and I’m going to kill the boy and when I’m done I’m going to kill the girl. How about that?”

  She wasn’t lying, anyone could see that.

  Nine Lives raised the little gun and pointed it at Hitch. “Any last words?” she said.

  “Let me think,” said Hitch, “I’m sure I can come up with something.”

  Ruby felt for the dog whistle still around her neck.

  Nine Lives took aim. “Too bad I’m gonna mess up that nice suit of yours.”

  Ruby brought the whistle to her lips and gently inhaled.

  “Well I guess it’s time to say adiós,” laughed Nine Lives. “Look into my eyes — they’ll be the last you see.”

  “Not quite!” shouted Ruby.

  Her voice appeared to be coming from just behind Capaldi, who spun around in confusion — just enough time for Hitch to lunge toward her and grab hold of the diamond revolver.

  Only Nine Lives Capaldi wasn’t letting go. They struggled, Nine Lives lashing out with her claw-like nails, scratching at Hitch’s face. Blood everywhere. Clancy was finding it hard to breathe, his throat caught in her grasp.

  Then there was a shot.

  Valerie Capaldi’s smile twisted into an expression of surprise. Her hand released its grip on Clancy and moved to clutch her heart. She looked up at Hitch. “You killed me?” she said as she slid to the floor. In her left hand the diamond revolver glittered, a pool of crimson forming where she lay.

  For just a second the three figures were frozen. Hitch had so many times fought Nine Lives only to watch her somehow leap to her escape — wounded but always alive. Could it really be over?

  Suddenly there was a roar of anger from Baby Face Marshall as he flung himself at Hitch, sending him sprawling across the room.

  The key! The Count!

  Ruby seized the moment. “See you in one minute, Clance. I gotta do something.”

  “Ruby, don’t go!” he yelled.

  Hitch called out something but Ruby couldn’t make out what it was. She didn’t have time to wait — her watch said one minute to midnight. With the lights back on, the Count would surely have found the glass key — the Buddha might already be gone.

  She sped across to the inner vault just in time to watch as the Count reached his hands into the glass cylinder. He looked up in surprise as Ruby plucked off her remaining shoe an
d flung it hard at his head. It hit him square in the face and he lost his balance — just for a second, but it was enough. At that moment the clock struck midnight, there was a whirring sound, and in the blink of an eye, the glass cylinder shot up through the ceiling.

  The Count cried out in fury as the Buddha disappeared from view. The vault was plunged into blackness for just a second and when the lights flickered back on, the vault was empty — he was gone. All that was left was the glass key glinting on the stone floor.

  Where is he? Ruby was dumbfounded. He’s got to be in here somewhere — there’s no way he could have gotten past me.

  But it was if the Count had simply dissolved away.

  Suddenly the passageways were swarming with agents and security guards. When Ruby walked outside she saw Baby Face Marshall being led toward a waiting police car, his hands cuffed, his nose bloody. Not such a pretty sight now.

  “I’ll get you, brat. You see if I don’t,” he growled.

  “Tell it to the judge, Baby Face,” shouted Ruby.

  “Hey, Rube!” Clancy came running toward her, flapping his arms Clancy-style and sort of hopping up and down. “Boy, am I ever glad to see you, I thought maybe . . . you know . . . you’d . . .”

  “Gone to a better place?” replied Ruby. “Nah, not me, Clance my friend — it takes more than an evil genius to get me popping my clogs.”

  “Which reminds me,” said Clancy, “I found your shoe!”

  “Gee thanks, I wondered where that had gotten to — turns out these just might be Dorothy’s ruby slippers after all. Don’t s’pose you got my glasses there too? These contact lenses suck.”

  A hand ruffled her hair. “Hey there, Ruby, long time no see.”

  Ruby looked up to see the friendly face of Agent Blacker.

  “Thought you might possibly want a jelly donut,” he said, handing her a brown paper bag. “Nothing like a near death experience to give you an appetite.”

  “Hey, you read my mind,” said Ruby.

  Hitch, meanwhile, was talking into his watch transmitter. He looked disheveled, perhaps even tired, but his easy cool was back. “Yes, Baby Face has been apprehended. He’s being taken away right now.”