‘. . . 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.’
IT WAS EARLY MORNING AND MRS DIGBY WAS READING ALL ABOUT IT. She had a cup of strong tea and a currant bun (in proper English style) and her copy of the Twinford Lark.
Ruby had woken very early, perhaps due to the strange hours she was working and as a consequence her altered sleep rhythms. She woke hungry and wandered into the kitchen looking for food.
‘Howdy Mrs Digby.’
‘Knock me down with a feather child, what are you doing walking at this hour?’
‘Beats me,’ said Ruby. ‘So what’s the story Mrs Digby?’
‘Another robbery,’ said the housekeeper, ‘this time on the thirty-seventh floor of the Warrington Apartments on Avenue Walk.’
‘Really? The same guy they think?’
‘Looks that way,’ said Mrs Digby, slurping on her tea. ‘Came in the window, left by the door.’
‘What did he steal?’ Ruby was wondering why Blacker hadn’t contacted her about this; it had to be connected.
‘Never mind what he took, those folks are lucky to be alive; could be dead in their beds.’
‘That’s not his M.O.,’ said Ruby, ‘he’s not a murderer.’
‘Not yet,’ warned Mrs Digby, ‘but just you wait until he gets the idea in his head, that could all change.’
‘Mrs Digby, you are getting carried away.’
‘Well, I’m glad we don’t live in a high-rise, is all I can say.’
The sound of the doorbell interrupted their discussion. Ruby went down to answer it.
‘Hey Clance, what brings you to my doorstep?’
‘Why are you up so early?’ asked Clancy.
‘I have no idea,’ said Ruby, ‘why are you even here?’
‘Oh, I was trying to avoid taking Olive to kindergarten, so I told my mom that I had to leave home super early because I had to pick something up from your place.’
‘Why didn’t you just, you know, like say you were coming here but hang out in the diner,’ asked Ruby.
‘Because she will probably call you in a minute to check I wasn’t lying.’
At that moment the telephone began to ring. Ruby picked up the receiver.
‘Hello Mrs Crew, yes, he’s here. . . OK, I will, yes, bye, bye.’
‘What did she say?’ asked Clancy.
‘Be sure to come straight home after school, Olive wants you to play hopscotch with her.’
‘Oh brother!’
‘Well come on in, Mrs Digby and I were just discussing the latest high-rise robbery.’
Clancy followed Ruby back up to the kitchen.
‘Who did the place belong to?’ he asked.
‘It says here,’ said Ruby, reading from the Echo, ‘that it was a couple, Pamela and Fabian Thompson, and their fifteen-month-old son, Nileston.’
‘Nileston?’ repeated Clancy, screwing up his nose. ‘Nileston? What kind of name is that for a kid?’
‘Apparently it’s a family name,’ answered Ruby. The Echo was the sort of paper that gave out useless information like this.
‘Anyway,’ she said, ‘Pamela Thompson says, the only thing that we have noticed missing is my husband’s tie-clip.’
‘How does that fit in to any theory you might have?’ asked Clancy.
‘Mrs Digby thinks the guy’s a wannabe murderer, but I don’t have a theory, at least not one that involves a suspect. Sure, everyone knows this thief can climb and that he can open windows and climb in through small spaces, but no one seems to have a clue about who this bozo is.’
‘A dangerous man, is who this bozo is,’ said Mrs Digby, hopping off her seat and clearing her teacup. ‘If you want a cookie, there’s fresh ones in the tin, I have to get back on with my chores.’ She left them alone.
Ruby picked up a pencil and wrote down the objects that had so far been stolen.
‘You see, the shoes, yes, they are valuable all right. I mean, maybe not in themselves but to a collector, to someone interested in the movies.’
‘Or someone who’s a real devoted fan of Margo Bardem,’ said Clancy. ‘I mean maybe this guy is collecting famous people memorabilia.’
‘That’s a good point Clance,’ said Ruby, ‘I guess it’s possible.’
‘Yeah,’ said Clancy, warming to the idea, ‘I heard them saying on the radio that the tie-clip once belonged to the king of the UK.’
‘England,’ corrected Ruby, ‘kings of the UK are generally referred to as the king of England.’
‘It must be pretty valuable right?’ said Clancy. ‘They said it was inscribed with the guy’s initials? This window thief could be like a king of England fan.’
Ruby smiled, Clance really made her see the funny side. ‘Yep it was the king’s all right,
