done since she was just a little kid – but for once she really didn’t mind one bit.
‘I owe you one pal,’ said Hitch, shaking Zuko’s hand.
‘Hey, easy job, you owe me nothing,’ said Zuko.
When things had calmed down and Ruby and Hitch were alone, she said, ‘Hey, you know – thanks.’
‘All part of the job,’ he replied.
‘No,’ said Ruby. ‘I know it’s not, so thank you.’
He winked at her. ‘Consider it my pleasure kid. I happen to like your folks a whole lot. Your mother can be a little pernickety and I can’t stand your father’s whistling, but on the whole I’d rather not do without them. ’
Of course, it was important that Brant and Sabina should be debriefed as soon as possible, before they forgot anything that might prove vital to catching those responsible for their near-death encounter. Both the police and the coastguard were keen to get some kind of description of the assailants, but the interview was not going well.
Ruby sat in on the debrief. Partly because it was so nice to see her not-dead parents, but also because she was intrigued to hear what they had to say.
‘He had terrible dental work,’ said Sabina, wrinkling her nose. ‘I mean he went to the trouble of having five or six gold teeth fitted, but the front one was very discoloured, and a couple of the lower ones were missing altogether, and talk about halitosis. I don’t think he had so much as sniffed a bottle of Mint-Mouth his whole criminal life.’
The police detective felt Sabina was getting sidetracked by teeth and tried to bring things back to more useful territory.
‘Try Mrs Redfort, if you will, to focus on the overall appearance of the man – how tall he was, for instance. Was he stocky? Was he lean? How was he dressed?’
‘Oh, he was dressed appallingly, nothing went together. Lots of things that didn’t make sense, very tasteless; not that the clothes themselves were all bad, but they didn’t work as an ensemble.’
Brant thought it might be time for him to chip in.
‘I think what Sabina is getting at is that the man had a somewhat haphazard appearance – he was small yet tough, no one doubted his strength. His clothing suggested that much of it was stolen – or acquired. Maybe he saw things, took them and wore them.’
‘Yes, well put honey,’ agreed Sabina. ‘That’s exactly it! He’s not a shopper.’ She stopped as if remembering something important. ‘But his colleague was.’
‘Colleague?’ queried the detective.
‘His cohort, accomplice, whatever you call these pirate types.’ Sabina waved her arms. ‘What I’m trying to say is that there was a fellow on-board who did not look one bit like a pirate, yet he was in with them.’
‘So what did he look like Mrs Redfort?’ asked the detective.
‘Sort of collegey, educated, respectable, nicely dressed, kinda like Brant,’ said Sabina.
Now, this was interesting. What was a guy like that doing with a bunch of pirates? thought Ruby.
‘And how many of these pirates would you say there were?’ asked the detective.
‘Forty, I’d say, at least. Would you agree Brant?’
Brant nodded. ‘Give or take – perhaps more like twenty.’
‘And would you say that these pirates were even slightly interested in kidnap and ransoms? I mean did you think it crossed their minds?’ the detective asked.
‘No, that wasn’t my impression,’ said Brant confidently. ‘They had no idea who Ambassador Crew was and they seemed to have not one jot of interest in us, just our wallets.’
‘And jewellery,’ added Sabina, looking down at the ring still firmly jammed on her finger, her finger still firmly attached to her hand.
‘And their boat?’ asked the detective. ‘Could you describe that?’
‘Pirate-like,’ said Sabina.
‘What do you mean, pirate-like?’ said the detective.
‘The sort of vessel,’ said Brant, ‘that you might expect a pirate to sail in. It was dramatic, sort of corny almost.’
‘Like in a film,’ said Sabina. ‘Old-fashioned. Lots of rigging and sails – you know, crow’s-nests and the like – all it was lacking was the Jolly Roger.’
The detective wrote that down. It was something and they didn’t have a whole lot to go on.
Old-fashioned, thought Ruby. Wasn’t that exactly the way the fishermen had described the boat they spotted in the distance, the one that failed to pick them up? Ruby found herself mulling this final fact over and over in her mind. There was something intriguing about it.
Like in a film, she said to herself.
AT ABOUT SIX O’CLOCK THAT EVENING, Ruby was lying on her parents’ bed: her mother was sitting at the dressing table brushing her hair. Brant Redfort was choosing a necktie from his very large collection of neckties. They were all looking forward to a fun evening with the Runklehorns who were expected within the next half-hour or so.
‘So,’ asked Ruby, ‘what exactly did you learn out there – the whole history deal I mean?’
‘Some pretty fascinating stuff,’ said Brant.
‘Oh my! Did we ever,’ agreed Sabina. Ruby waited for her mother to launch into the story of the treasure of the Seahorse, a legend she was prone to talking about whenever she got the opportunity. Sabina was very fond of this tale because the legendary treasure – in particular, a priceless ruby necklace – supposedly belonged to her great-great-great-grandmother, Eliza Fairbank.
Tonight Sabina was particularly excited because during the cruise Dora Shoering had confirmed that the story was a lot more than legend – it was all, most probably, true. The fact that Dora Shoering knew no more about history than the next man or woman didn’t seem to bother Sabina.
‘Of course, they were my great-great-great-grandmother’s rubies.’ Sabina paused. ‘Or were they my great-great-great-great-grandmother’s? Either way, people say they were the most stunning jewels this side of India.’
‘What was the whole big deal about them?’ asked Ruby, who of course knew the whole big deal, but her mother liked to explain and Ruby was feeling kind enough to ask.
‘They were flawless – crystal clear and flawless – big too,’ replied her mother. ‘They would have been yours of course, eventually.’ She sighed. ‘They would have gone so well with this Marco Perella dress.’ Sabina was scrutinising herself in her dressing-room mirror.
‘Oh, you
