Pick Your Poison Read online

  ‘I’m not sure it would,’ said Clancy.

  As parents went, Sabina and Brant Redfort were two very easy-going people, but bad manners and lack of social graces turned them very uptight indeed – especially if these failings were their daughter’s. And getting spotted by the town busybody as you climbed out of a dumpster in front of a poker bar was not socially graceful.

  ‘Let Mr Chester gossip all he likes,’ said Ruby. She wasn’t concerned; she would figure out exactly what to say. ‘So what was the exciting thing you wanted to tell me?’

  ‘What do you mean, what exciting thing?’ said Clancy.

  ‘Come on Clance, it is written all over your face, practically oozing out of the corners of your mouth. I can tell you’ve been dying to tell me something since you got here.’

  ‘No fooling you, huh?’ said Clancy.

  ‘I can read you like a book, baby.’

  Clancy frowned. ‘Let’s hope a more interesting book than the one about how leaves turn red.’

  ‘So what’s the news?’

  ‘I’m going to the Environmental Explorer Awards,’ said Clancy, smiling the smile that he would be wearing on the night.

  ‘You’re going to that?’ Ruby felt like she might fall off her branch.

  Clancy nodded. ‘Yes, I am.’

  ‘Since when?’ said Ruby.

  ‘Since my dad had this extra invitation.’

  ‘How did he manage that?’ asked Ruby.

  ‘My mom’s not keen on some of the live exhibits.’

  ‘I guess you got lucky,’ said Ruby.

  ‘I know,’ said Clancy, ‘it’s this year’s big money-can’t-buy ticket. It must be one of the few perks of being the Ambassador’s favourite son.’ (Clancy was also the ambassador’s only son.)

  ‘What about your sisters? They not wanna go?’ asked Ruby.

  ‘Minny’s banned due to some misdemeanour or other, Lulu’s not into that kinda thing, and since I’m the third oldest the others don’t actually get a look in.’

  ‘I must say, for once I envy you my ambassadorial pal,’ said Ruby.

  ‘Are your mom and dad going?’ said Clancy.

  ‘Need you ask?’ said Ruby. The Twinford Environmental Explorer Awards was a three-yearly event held in the Twinford Geographical Institute, a grand modernist building near the Twinford City Museum. A large cheque was presented by a local dignitary to the environmentalist deemed to have made the biggest impact on some area of world ecology. It was a big deal event. Of course the Redfort’s were going. Ruby’s parents were Twinford’s premiere socialites, attending on average two major functions per week along with a sprinkling of private parties, launches and fundraisers.

  ‘You couldn’t, like, wrestle a ticket?’ asked Clancy.

  ‘It’s a sell out,’ said Ruby, ‘everyone wants to be there. I guess I will be left watching it on TV.’

  ‘It’s because of the exhibits,’ said Clancy, ‘that’s what makes it so popular. They said there’s going to be moon rock there and probably one or two astronauts floating around.’

  ‘If you get to speak to one of them you gotta ask, which is the more comfortable space suit: the G4C, or the A7L?’ Ruby thought for a moment and then added, ‘Also, does the moon really smell like wet gunpowder?’

  Clancy said, ‘I’m going to ask them how they can sit in a rotating spacecraft without getting dizzy? I mean my sister Nancy would puke all the way to the moon.’

  ‘Which isn’t saying a lot since your sister Nancy looks like she’s about to puke every time she climbs aboard the school bus. No, the real question to ask is – “Aren’t you concerned about all that space junk you’re littering the galaxy with? Sooner or later someone’s going to bump into a lump of it …” – that’s what I wanna know,’ said Ruby. ‘That and what Virgil Hipkip does in his spare time.’

  ‘Can you even imagine?’ mused Clancy. ‘I mean how does a guy like that relax?’

  ‘Ah, he probably knits,’ said Ruby.

  Virgil Hipkip was a survivalist and explorer of hostile terrain, and known for many hair-raising feats, but the most notorious was when he swam beneath the Arctic ice with a polar bear.

  ‘He’s the reason my mom doesn’t want to go,’ said Clancy. ‘She thinks he may have insisted that jungle grubs be served as canapés.’

  ‘A not entirely unreasonable worry,’ said Ruby.

  ‘I’m hoping to meet him,’ said Clancy. ‘As they say, he hangs out with the rare and dangerous, or is it the dangerously rare?’

  ‘Well, talking of dangerously rare, if you get a chance, ask him if he’s run into the Blue Alaskan wolf recently – I’ll betcha he hasn’t.’

  ‘Yep, we must be the only two kids alive today who have seen that old wolf,’ said Clancy. They were talking about a creature thought to be extinct until August that year. Ruby and Clancy had cut it loose. Had they left it caged up there on Wolf Paw Mountain where Lorelei von Leyden and the mysterious Australian woman she was working for had trapped it, then its fate might very well have been the same as that of the dodo.

  ‘So who do you figure is going to get the big cheque?’ asked Ruby.

  ‘My money’s on the woman who discovered that new snake species.’

  ‘Why’s that?’

  ‘I don’t know, just a hunch,’ said Clancy. ‘I just got a good feeling about her. It’s the sort of discovery that takes a hold on people’s imaginations.’

  ‘That’s because people are scared of snakes,’ said Ruby. ‘People like to be thrilled.’

  ‘True, but more than that, this snake has an amazing yellow skin, I mean, fluorescent yellow,’ said Clancy. ‘On top of that, it has a really weird venom, interesting weird.’

  ‘What does it do?’ said Ruby.

  ‘Well, it doesn’t kill you,’ said Clancy. ‘At least, not immediately. First of all you sweat, like a lot. I mean you basically sweat to death unless you drink about a gallon of water; if you don’t, you end up like a raisin. The worst of it is, you find you can’t close your eyes – they are sort of pinned open, which is very unattractive and unrelaxing.’

  ‘You think you would be able to relax with symptoms like those?’ asked Ruby.

  ‘It also gives you really bad breath,’ added Clancy.

  ‘Gross. How come you know all these reptile facts?’ asked Ruby.

  ‘My dad was given the literature on account of him being on the award’s committee. I read up on it. It’s top secret though; I shouldn’t even be telling you,’ said Clancy. ‘I hope you’re not going to blab.’

  Ruby rolled her eyes. ‘Give me a break.’ Hearing about the snake made her wish more than ever that she could make it to the Explorer Awards; snakes were of particular interest to her.

  She had spent an awful lot of her time watching the nature channel and had seen more than a few programmes about deadly snakes and their habitats. It was a subject that fascinated both her and Clancy, and one that they had often argued about.

  They were always trying to figure out which was the most deadly snake of all. Clancy would usually argue: ‘It has to be the hook-nosed sea krait because it requires the least venom to kill.’

  ‘Come on, it has got to be the Russell’s viper,’ Ruby would answer. ‘I mean, it has to be considered the more dangerous on account of it being a more aggressive reptile and it packs more venom. You also have to consider that you are much more likely to cross paths with a Russell’s viper than our hook-nosed friend.’

  Clancy refused to accept this argument and merely countered that this was not the point – if one happened to meet the Enhydrina schistosa then the chances of making it back to the beach to enjoy a little more sunbathing activity were pretty much non-existent. This argument had been going on for the past five and a quarter years and a compromise had yet to be found. What they both did agree on was: ‘Whichever one you meet, just be sure you don’t upset it.’

  ‘This snake lady,’ said Ruby, ‘what’s her name?’

  Amarjargel Oidov?
Or as they say in Outer Mongolia, Oidov Amarjargel.’

  ‘That’s where the snake’s from? Outer Mongolia?’

  ‘No, that’s where she’s from. I don’t know where the snake’s from,’ said Clancy. ‘It sounds cool, doesn’t it?’

  ‘What, the snake?’

  ‘Outer Mongolia. I mean, how many countries are called ‘outer’ whatever?’

  ‘You mean like outer space?’

  ‘Yeah sorta, just makes it sound exciting, kinda wild,’ said Clancy.

  ‘Speaking of outer space, my money’s on the Mars exploration,’ said Ruby. ‘I mean, what could be more exciting than the big question … is anyone out there?’

  ‘… And will they infiltrate human society?’

  ‘Well, if they are and they do then please let them be on the side of wholesome good-citizen-like behaviour because we already have more than enough bad guys mooching around, most of them in Twinford, as far as I can tell.’

  The face of the Count loomed up in her mind’s eye – she could see him laughing, his dark eyes unfathomable. He’d been involved in more than one of the cases Ruby had worked on. Did he have further plans to bring his deadly ambitions to town? She had a bad feeling that all of the cases she’d solved so far were only building up to something bigger. Something infinitely deeper and darker than her worst nightmares could conjure.

  She shook her head, trying to dislodge the image, and said, ‘Boy, if I could just get my hands on one of those Explorer tickets.’

  ‘You’d be lucky,’ said Clancy. ‘My dad said people are ready to commit murder for them.’

  And Ruby could almost hear the Count laugh.

  WHEN RUBY OPENED THE FRONT DOOR she could hear her mother’s voice. Sabina Redfort was on the phone and speaking in a vaguely hushed tone. Ruby paused on the stairs, trying to figure out who her mother was talking to. She sounded serious, very serious.

  ‘You know, I’m just at a loss, what am I going to do? It will be a total disaster if I don’t find them … I can’t tell him …’ Silence. ‘Oh my gosh, are you sure? … You really mean it? I mean, I can see the sense, they are practically identical … I don’t know how I can ever thank you!’ She sounded beyond grateful. ‘That would just about save my life … What’s that? No, I hadn’t heard … Today you say?’

  Ruby froze, waiting for the next words. Was someone about to tell her mother about the dumpster incident?

  ‘Sure thing, yes, I’m dying to go to the Melrose Dorff sale but it will have to be tomorrow, I have a party tonight … Meet you at the perfume counter, sounds perfect, tomorrow it is. I’ll see you in town, bye, bye, bye.’

  Marjorie Humbert! thought Ruby. Has to be. She recognised the sign off: ‘bye, bye, bye’ was what her mother and Marjorie always ended their conversations with.

  She exhaled; she was getting paranoid, seeing trouble where there was none. Nothing serious had happened. Her mom no doubt was worrying about her outfit for the Explorer Awards and Marjorie was lending her a pair of shoes or earrings, something her mother had mislaid.

  As it happened, Ruby was on the money.

  ‘Hey Mom, how’s it going?’ she said as she walked into the living room.

  ‘A whole lot better since two minutes ago. Marjorie has saved my life!’

  ‘Literally?’ asked Ruby.

  ‘Sort of literally but not exactly,’ said Sabina.

  ‘How did she manage that over the phone?’

  ‘By lending me her ruby-eyed snake earrings. Don’t tell your father,’ said her mother, adopting a conspiratorial whisper. ‘He’ll never spot the difference, even though Marjorie’s are cobras and mine are sea serpents, but he’d be so mad if he knew I’d lost them. You see, I clean forgot to put them on the insurance.’

  ‘When did you last have them?’ asked Ruby.

  ‘During my stay in New York City.’

  ‘So they could be at Grandma’s place?’

  ‘She’s looked and looked but they haven’t shown up,’ sighed Sabina, ‘not on the night stand, not in the bathroom or anywhere obvious.’

  ‘So I take it Dad’s not home?’ said Ruby.

  ‘Not yet honey. He was called in for an emergency meeting about the Explorer Awards. The caterers stepped out at the last minute – the chef apparently has a considerable fear of snakes. Brant offered to find a replacement … He is late though,’ she said, looking at her watch. ‘I hope everything’s OK. I have a bad feeling about this whole function.’

  It was most unlike Sabina to have a bad feeling about anything – losing her jewellery had clearly rattled her.

  Ruby sank down on the sofa opposite her mother.

  ‘You’re sitting on the menu,’ said Sabina.

  ‘What?’

  ‘The menu,’ said Sabina. ‘You happen to be sitting on it.’

  ‘Oh.’ Ruby pulled the card from under her. ‘So is this what they’re serving on the night?’

  ‘It was going to be,’ said Sabina, ‘but who knows now, it might just be crackers.’

  Ruby began reading from the card. ‘Looks fancy. Caviar, oysters …’

  SABINA: ‘I do love oysters, but I feel very uncomfortable eating them now it turns out they have a brain.’

  RUBY: ‘I think you are getting mixed up here. They don’t have brains, they are brain food, i.e. meant to be food for the brain.’

  SABINA: ‘Whose brain?’

  RUBY: ‘Your brain – anyone’s brain.’

  SABINA: ‘You sure?’

  RUBY: ‘Yes. By the way, you eat plenty of other things with brains.’

  SABINA: ‘I know, but I’ve been eating oysters all this time and thinking they don’t have brains.’

  RUBY: ‘Well, you can relax ’cause they don’t.’

  SABINA: ‘You’re sure about this?’

  RUBY: ‘Where do you think they would keep them?’

  SABINA: ‘In their shells, of course.’

  RUBY: ‘Where in the “body”? I mean, you’ve shucked enough oysters to know.’

  Her mother mulled this for half a minute.

  SABINA: ‘Now I come to think of it, no, I have never noticed an oyster with even a face.’

  RUBY: ‘There you go.’

  SABINA: ‘What gets me is how do they think?’

  RUBY: ‘They don’t need to think. They’re bivalves, they are pretty much gills and a mouth. They catch plankton in their mucus and—’

  SABINA: ‘OK, mucus does it – that’s it for me and oysters.’

  Ruby was saved from any more oyster talk by the sound of a key in the front door.

  ‘That’ll be your father, don’t blab about the earrings,’ hissed her mother.

  ‘When do I ever blab?’ said Ruby.

  ‘Brant?’ called Sabina.

  ‘Sorry I’m late,’ he called back.

  ‘We’ll be late to the Feldman’s party,’ said Sabina.

  ‘Sorry honey, I got held up, but guess who I have in tow?’

  ‘Hola, Mrs Redfort.’

  ‘Consuela?’ cried Sabina. ‘Is it really you?’ And in walked Consuela Cruz, large as life and in six-inch scarlet heels.

  ‘Meet my new caterer,’ announced Brant. ‘She has agreed to save the day.’

  ‘Bravo!’ cried Sabina.

  For a very short time Consuela Cruz, a dietician and talented chef from Seville, had been in the Redforts’ employ, hired by Mrs Redfort to bring health and wellbeing to the family, though what had actually happened was the cause of a certain amount of indigestion.

  Mrs Digby and Consuela Cruz had not hit it off and had disagreed about most things. Plates had been thrown and tomato juice flung. Mrs Digby had felt very much discarded, her cooking somehow relegated to second best – all in all it had been a less than satisfactory arrangement. It was a mercy Mrs Digby had already departed the house for poker night.

  ‘Great seeing you again,’ said Ruby.

  Consuela gave her a hard stare. ‘Have you been eating your kale, Ruby Redfort?’

&nb
sp; ‘Course I have, never miss it,’ lied Ruby.

  ‘Don’t try and pull wool over me, chica. I can see just by looking into your eyes, no kale has passed your lips.’

  ‘Oh, honey,’ fretted Sabina, ‘is this true?’

  ‘I’ll go fix her a kale juice once we have debated the menu,’ said Consuela.

  Jeepers, thought Ruby, one minute in the door and she’s ruining my life. ‘Really nice to see you again Consuela,’ she said, ‘but if you would excuse me I just need to go and tidy my sock drawer.’

  Ruby grabbed some banana milk from the refrigerator while her parents and Consuela Cruz talked oysters. Consuela wanted to serve them on seaweed.

  ‘I’m not sure we should serve oysters on anything,’ said Brant, ‘because of the green pearl discovery. The marine explorer – what’s his name? – might be offended.’

  ‘More likely to be offended that you can’t remember what he’s called,’ said Ruby.

  ‘He wouldn’t have discovered a green pearl if someone had not been trying to eat it,’ said Consuela.

  The logic of this statement didn’t register with Brant Redfort.

  ‘We can’t eat anything endangered,’ he insisted.

  ‘Oysters aren’t in danger,’ said Consuela. ‘No way José.’

  ‘Were you aware they don’t have brains?’ said Sabina. ‘Not even faces.’

  Ruby decided it might be time to retire to her room.

  RUBY PULLED THE BLOCK OF WOOD FROM THE DOORJAMB and took notebook 625 from its hiding place. The previous 624, all varying shades of the same colour, were hidden under the floorboards. She had been writing things down in yellow notebooks since she was no more than four years old, when it had struck her that the smallest detail was what made up the whole big picture. RULE 16: EVEN THE MUNDANE CAN TELL A STORY. No one knew about the yellow notebooks, not even Ruby’s closest friend, Clancy. She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t told him; she just hadn’t.

  She flipped back to see what she had written over the last few weeks. There was a lot there, most of it still fresh in her mind, but she was hoping that there might be some detail that once re-read might mean more than perhaps it had when first jotted down. Some detail that made everything fit together, that revealed the pattern she couldn’t see. She sank back into her outsized beanbag and began to read.