by Lauren Child
‘Not a ghost exactly,’ said Ruby. ‘More of a psycho.’
FREDERICK LUTZ WAS LOOKING AT RUBY with a concerned expression.
‘Are you quite all right there?’ he asked. ‘You’ve gone pale.’
‘Too many late nights,’ said Ruby.
‘Maybe you should ease up on the horror movies,’ suggested Frederick. ‘They’re probably giving you nightmares.’
‘It’s real life that gives me the nightmares,’ said Ruby.
Frederick nodded. ‘I know what you mean,’ he said. ‘There’s been a lot of bad things in the news. That poor snake lady for one – imagine getting poisoned by a bouquet of flowers.’
‘Yeah, that was creepy,’ said Ruby. They were both silent for a moment and then she asked, ‘So why didn’t Marnie Novak go on to have a glittering career?’
‘She got in the family way,’ said Lutz. ‘You know, pregnant.’
‘So, what, she couldn’t work?’ asked Ruby.
‘Wasn’t allowed to work,’ said Frederick. ‘You got to remember these were old-fashioned times; people weren’t very understanding when it came to unmarried mothers. The father was a big-shot movie producer, and a royal pain in the neck if you were unlucky enough to cross his path.’
‘Who?’ asked Ruby.
‘George Katz,’ said Frederick. ‘Remember him?’
Ruby certainly did. George Katz had caused an awful lot of grief during his prosperous and happy life, mainly for the women he had dated.
‘Why didn’t he marry her?’ asked Ruby. ‘Didn’t he love her?’
‘Oh, love wasn’t the problem,’ said Lutz. ‘The fact that he was already married was the problem. He didn’t want his wife to get wind of what was going on because her daddy was a big-time studio exec, so it was all hushed up, Miss Novak lost her starlet status, and never worked again.’
‘So the baby was nothing to do with Victor von Leyden? I mean there’s no way it was his child?’
‘No, that’s a certainty,’ said Frederick. ‘Lorelei was not his daughter.’
‘Then why did he give her his name?’
‘That was a kindness to Marnie. He was very fond of Miss Novak: she had been his protégée. He tried to help, but it was too late, the cat was out of the bag, the studio didn’t want a scandal. George Katz and his wife were a popular couple so they wanted Marnie out of the limelight and out of the movies.’
‘So that was the end of her career?’
‘As good as,’ said Frederick. ‘Victor remained close to Marnie, but no one would offer her work and so in the end she headed off to Australia in search of a new life.’
‘With the baby?’ asked Ruby.
‘She took her along, but it didn’t work out,’ said Frederick. ‘From what I heard Marnie became cruel, resentful of her. She told someone I used to work with back in the day that she blamed the child for the ruination of her life, said she couldn’t abide to look at the girl.’
The story was getting more tragic by the minute and had one not known the awful deeds, the terrible crimes and cruelties, perpetrated by Marnie Novak and her daughter Lorelei, one might have felt great sympathy for them both.
‘So what happened to her, the girl?’ asked Ruby.
‘Who really knows – my friend Reggie used to say that the only thing that little girl was interested in was greasepaint. Victor tried to make an actress of her, but she had zero talent for it.’
‘But she liked getting herself made-up – like a theatre star?’ asked Ruby.
‘More than that. What she was really passionate about was special effects make-up,’ said Frederick. ‘She liked inventing characters and disguising herself, playing tricks on people, pretty mean tricks too.’ He shook his head. ‘But she wasn’t an actress, more likely to become a con-woman than an actress.’
‘Who taught her to do that? The disguises, I mean.’
‘Victor, of course,’ said Lutz. ‘No one did theatrical disguise like “Count von Viscount”. He was famous for it. Always had kids hanging around wanting to learn how to transform themselves.’
‘Where did he get the nickname from?’ asked Ruby.
‘Oh, that, that came from all these gothic horror movies he made – and the fact that he dressed a bit like Dracula, elegant style but creepy, all black with cravat and handkerchiefs, an old-fashioned pocket watch and if you ever heard him speak, well, he kinda sounded a lot like Dracula too.’
Ruby did not need reminding of the quality of the voice that whispered to her from her nightmares.
‘I’m telling you,’ said Frederick, ‘fit him with a pair of fangs and you’d believe in vampires for sure. So they called him the Count von Leyden then Count von Victor and later the Count von Viscount and finally just the Count – none of it was meant kindly.’
‘So that was his thing, creating characters?’
‘He was one of the best, I have to admit. He pioneered a way of changing faces and voices like I have never seen from that day to this. He kept his secret – never told another person in the industry just how he did it – but everyone suspected it was really down to Homer. It was likely him who came up with it.’
‘Who was Homer?’ asked Ruby.
‘A clever fellow Victor worked with in the early days. They were a team: Homer the illusionist and inventor, and Victor the creative – quite a duo.’
‘So you admired them?’
Frederick’s expression turned serious. ‘I admired Homer – he was always a good man. He became nervous when he saw how a couple of Victor’s protégés were using their skill in an ugly way; disguising themselves, conning people – Lorelei was the worst – anyway, it became nasty. So he ended up breaking their association.’
‘What about you?’ asked Ruby. ‘What did you think?’
‘I admired Victor’s talent, but I had no liking for the man he became,’ said Frederick. ‘He began his career a reasonable enough fellow, but somewhere down the line things changed. He was shot through with something cruel.’
‘So he gave up directing?’ asked Ruby, though she knew the answer all too well.
‘After Marnie, he lost heart they say, and with his protégée gone, he turned bitter, then he fell out with Homer, and there were rumours he left the country, went abroad somewhere.’
If only, thought Ruby.
‘Here, take the book,’ said Frederick. ‘You can bring it back when you’re done.’
She thanked him, clipped it onto her bike rack and rode off into the dark.
Ruby was free-wheeling slowly down Derilla Drive when she thought she heard the sound of ringing. Quiet at first, but getting louder. There wasn’t a lot of activity in Derilla Drive, not a soul around on this chilly evening, but somewhere a telephone was ringing.
She slowed.
A blue metal payphone.
She rested her bike on the lamppost and walked over to the phone, waited a second or two before picking up.
‘Hello?’ she said.
‘Been doing your homework, Ms Redfort?’
A chill spread through Ruby that had nothing to do with the light snow that was falling, or the north wind that was blowing.
It had everything to do with the voice in her ear.
She looked around – she was utterly alone, a girl illuminated by a single street lamp.
‘How did you … how do you …’ she stammered, ‘how …’
‘How do I know where you are? Is that what you want to know? I know lots of things you don’t know,’ said the voice, ‘things you need to know if you are planning on making it past New Year.’
‘What are you say—’ began Ruby.
‘You’re tangled in a web, Ms Redfort, and the spider’s watching you, waiting … ready to wind you in.’
‘So why don’t you just come out and meet me face to face?’.
‘Oh, I don’t mean me,’ said the Count. ‘I’m not the spider, I’m a pussycat compared to this individual.’ He paused before adding, ‘A word of advice from one adver
sary to another – watch your back, Ms Redfort, there’s evil all around.’
Ruby felt her legs buckle under her and the receiver slip from her grasp. She lay there watching as it swung back and forth, the sound as it knocked against the phone box like some dull bell of doom.
Lenny Rivers
was surprised …
… when the hospital called to tell him that the guy he had found lying next to the road, the guy he had thought was just a few breaths away from his last, was now conscious and breathing unassisted.
‘He’s out of danger?’ asked Lenny. It was kind of hard to believe, this man he had seen lying there bleeding on the tarmac, this man who looked like his final minutes were ticking past, was off the critical list?
‘He’s actually walking,’ said the nurse. ‘A little unsteady, but he’s on the move.’
‘Can I pay him a visit?’ asked Lenny. ‘I’d like to shake the hand of a guy who returned from the dead.’
‘We’d be glad if you would; no one else has been in to see him and he can’t remember a thing before the accident.’
Lenny grabbed his coat and hopped into his truck. He was curious to talk to this miracle guy, this Morgan Loveday.
But it wasn’t to be. When he arrived at Morgan’s room he found the bed empty and no sign of the man who had lain in it.
RUBY AND CLANCY WERE SITTING IN THEIR FORM ROOM, waiting for Mrs Drisco to return from the principal’s office. She had felt it necessary to escort Dillon Flannigan to Principal Levine that morning because she’d had it ‘up to here’ with his ‘utter disregard for school rules’. No one was sure what the misdemeanour was, but it had certainly riled Mrs Drisco, who was very keen on rules.
‘So how come you were visiting Frederick Lutz?’ asked Clancy.
‘Well, it all has to do with Mrs Digby. You see, I was watching TV last night when onto the screen walks someone I know.’
‘Really? What kinda someone? Someone like a friend? Or someone like an acquaintance?’
‘Neither,’ said Ruby. ‘It concerns a someone I’ve met, but not a someone I particularly want to meet again, though knowing my luck I bet you anything I’m going to run into her at any minute.’
‘If you’re talking about Vapona Begwell then I can tell you with a total certainty you’re going to see her today; she’s put her name down for the carolling.’
Ruby made a face. ‘Jeepers,’ she said, ‘what’s that gonna sound like?’
‘She’s trying to get out of litter-picking duty – it’s the carol thing or a lot of garbage.’
‘Oh.’
‘So I take it, it wasn’t Bugwart you saw on TV?’
‘No, not her.’
‘So who?’
‘You don’t want to guess?’
Clancy made a face. ‘Could you just tell me before I fall asleep? I mean the suspense is just about killing me?’
‘Well, there’s a coincidence,’ said Ruby. ‘Cos this is the sort of lady who might just be able to arrange a killing.’
‘Who?’ asked Clancy.
‘The Australian,’ said Ruby.
The blood instantly drained from Clancy’s face. ‘Why did you have to mention her?’ he said.
‘You asked,’ said Ruby.
‘Yeah, but I didn’t think you were going to actually say her.’ He gulped. ‘I don’t like thinking about that evil-doer. What was she doing on the news anyhow?’
‘I didn’t say she was on the news,’ said Ruby. ‘It’s a lot more interesting than the news.’
Ruby filled Clancy in on everything she’d learned about Marnie Novak and her association with the Count.
‘The studio fired her when they discovered she was in the family way.’
Clancy looked blank.
‘Having a b-a-b-y.’
‘Oh,’ said Clancy. ‘What’s the deal with that? Why wasn’t she allowed to have a child?’
‘Wasn’t married, but it seems the father was – it could have been quite the scandal if it hadn’t been hushed up. These were old-fashioned times, my friend – a baby with a married man was not good for her box-office ratings. Plus she wasn’t the right shape for the part – a pregnant vampire wasn’t what the studio was after.’
‘Don’t tell me, this baby turns out to be Lorelei?’
‘Ping! Give that kid a prize.’
Mrs Drisco walked in. ‘Pop quiz, everyone,’ she said. ‘Pens out, please. I’ll be handing out a test.’
‘So I haven’t told you the creepiest bit,’ whispered Ruby as Mrs Drisco walked round the class giving out papers, her tone anxious.
‘What creepiest bit?’ asked Clancy. He looked like he might be on the verge of flapping.
‘I don’t want any conferring,’ said Mrs Drisco, shooting a look at Clancy.
‘The phone call,’ whispered Ruby. ‘I had a phone call from the Count.’
Clancy began to flap. ‘He called you at home?’ he said.
‘No, on a payphone,’ said Ruby.
‘What payphone?’ asked Clancy.
‘The one on Derilla,’ said Ruby. ‘I was freewheeling down the hill when this payphone began to ring and when I picked up guess who was on the end of the line.’
‘But that’s worse than him calling you from home,’ said Clancy. ‘That means he’s been watching you.’
Ruby shivered. ‘That’s what I thought.’
‘Ruby Redfort!’ said Mrs Drisco. ‘I said no conferring! I’ve got my beady eyes on you.’
You’re not the only one, thought Ruby.
When Ruby and Clancy walked up the steps to her house, she noticed that the pastel-pink bike had gone. Had Hal taken it? He hadn’t said anything about picking it up. Had someone else come into the Redfort drive and made off with it? Unlikely – who would want a pastel-pink bike? she thought.
After a brief chat with Mrs Digby, they went on up to the top of the house carrying a tray laden with two Digby club sandwiches, a half-dozen cookies and a carton of banana milk. Mrs Digby was a big believer in keeping one’s strength up.
‘You need brain food,’ she said. Clancy wasn’t sure any of the food on the tray was ‘brain food’, but he wasn’t complaining.
Clancy was struggling with his French homework, and Ruby, she was trying to figure out exactly where the Prism Vault might be.
She had a map spread out on the floor and she was peering at it through a large magnifying glass.
‘What are you doing?’ asked Clancy.
‘Looking for water,’ replied Ruby.
‘Excuse me?’ said Clancy.
‘I’m trying to figure out where the Prism Vault is located.’
‘Did you say prison vault?’
‘Prism,’ said Ruby, ‘as in light refractor.’
Clancy was still looking confused.
‘Look, all you gotta know is that there is this big vault which holds all the archive files relating to Spectrum missions. I want to get in to learn what I can about Bradley Baker and LB. It’s called the Prism Vault, I guess, because Spectrum is all about colour, which is made of light, and a prism is something that breaks light into its different colours, or bends its path.’
‘What, like the new telescope?’ asked Clancy.
‘What did you say?’
‘The space telescope,’ said Clancy. ‘They had it on the news last night – you didn’t catch it?’
‘I was all tied up talking to psychopaths on payphones.’
‘Oh yeah,’ said Clancy, ‘I forgot. Anyway, this guy was explaining how a telescope is basically like this giant prism made of all these folding mirrors that focus light onto a receiver. It was actually kind of interesting.’
Ruby was looking at Clancy with that expression that always made him mad.
‘What?’ he said.
‘So where is this telescope?’ she asked.
‘Meteor Island,’ said Clancy. ‘At the Observatory.’
‘Oh yeah, that’s right.’ She remembered now. ‘The kid at the planetarium ment
ioned it.’
‘Do you mind letting me in on whatever it is you have just decided you know?’
She chewed her pencil. She was thinking. What she was thinking was, could this be the place Blacker was talking about?
The Observatory was on a small island, more like a large rock really, so you’d need flippers and a wet suit to get there. A helicopter was out of the question and a boat probably not a good idea. Ruby figured Spectrum would be watching the sea and would intercept any vessel coming that way.
Clancy clicked his fingers in front of her face.
‘Hey! Earth to Mars, come in Mars.’
‘Clance, I think you just solved it.’
‘I did?’ said Clancy. He looked pleased.
‘I think that’s where it could be,’ she said, thumping him on the arm.
‘Oh great,’ said Clancy. ‘What exactly are we talking about?’
‘The Prism Vault. I think it could be on Meteor Island underneath the Observatory.’
‘Oh,’ said Clancy, ‘so now what?’
‘I’m going to check it out, of course.’
‘Of course you are – and do you have clearance to do that?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘It’s the place Spectrum keep all the most secret of secret documents, the highly restricted files. The ones no one is meant to see, so that would be “no”.’
‘So you’re going to break in?’
‘That’s my plan.’
Clancy looked at her. ‘Now that is a truly bad idea.’
‘Well,’ said Ruby, ‘that’s tough because it’s the only one I got.’
‘What about the codes? There’s no point breaking into a restricted file vault if you can’t open the files.’
‘True.’ She sighed, paused and said, ‘I’m pretty sure I know a couple of them; it’s the entry code I’m truly stuck on, but I guess I’ll just have to figure it out.’
Clancy looked at her. ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m praying you don’t.’
Meanwhile,
some thirty-five
years earlier …
… the kid was eight years old and living in the suburbs of Colwin City when, while breakfasting on cereal, they noticed an unusual advert on the back of the milk carton. It seemed to be a competition with big prize money; reading between the lines, very big prize money – this was no simple brainteaser.