Pick Your Poison. Lauren Child

River. On Broker Avenue traffic was heavy no matter what time of day or night, and to traverse meant dodging cars. The Dime a Dozen 24-hour supermarket was her destination: brightly lit with fluorescent tubes, the aisles signed with giant cardboard numbers suspended from the ceiling.

      Aisle 17 held canned vegetables and jarred baby food on one side, chilled goods in tall refrigerators on the other. She didn’t immediately spot Hitch. He was browsing chickpeas: a tall, good-looking man, wearing an elegant raincoat over a dark suit.

      In his hand – only slightly marring the look – was a Dime a Dozen paper bag.

      ‘Been doing some shopping?’ she said.

      ‘You’re only three minutes and forty seconds late, good going kid,’ he said.

      ‘Isn’t this a bit inconvenient?’ said Ruby. ‘I mean, having to walk through a store every time you want to reach Spectrum?’

      ‘On the contrary,’ he said. ‘It’s a convenience store.’

      She rolled her eyes. ‘You know what I mean.’

      ‘For those in the know, there are always other ways in, I just thought this one would appeal to your sense of mystery,’ said Hitch. ‘Besides, we were out of butter.’

      ‘I know,’ said Ruby, ‘but how do you know?’

      ‘Lucky guess,’ said Hitch.

      Boy, thought Ruby, that’s some butler.

      ‘So I’ve managed to restock the dairy goodness and get to work on time,’ said Hitch, shaking the bag.

      ‘Where’s the door then?’ she asked.

      ‘Right here,’ said Hitch, pointing to a section of shelving bearing all kinds of fly sprays, fly papers and fly swatters. He reached behind a can of Fly-Be-Gone and the shelf swung open and they walked through into a very white, very cold space. Nothing was in it at all but for a tiny image of a white fly on the white wall in front of them, almost invisible but not quite. Hitch pressed his thumbprint onto it and the wall slid back and stairs were revealed.

      At the bottom of the staircase – an industrial refrigerator door; on the other side – Spectrum. A hive of spies all secretly going about their business.

      Hitch went over to check in with Buzz. She looked the same as always, bland and beige and looking sort of like a mushroom sitting there in the middle of her round desk surrounded by telephones. Ruby watched her as she phoned through to LB’s office.

      ‘Agent Hitch and Agent Redfort,’ she said.

      This time there was no waiting and Ruby and Hitch were told to just go right on in to the boss’s office.

      If LB had been looking tired and twitchy last month, then she seemed doubly so today. And if the dark circles around her eyes were anything to go by, perhaps her head had not been hitting the pillow as often as it should. Next to her was a man Ruby recognised as Agent Trent-Kobie, head of Spectrum 5, aka Sea Division. He was someone LB had a lot of time for and clearly trusted.

      Everyone shook hands.

      Ruby noticed LB’s face slightly brighten when she saw Hitch. ‘Sorry to bring you back from your vacation, Hitch, I appreciate your returning at short notice.’

      ‘Don’t mention it,’ said Hitch. ‘To be honest I’m not a big fan of sand in my shoes.’ Ruby couldn’t swear to it, but she thought she saw a flicker of a wink as Hitch spoke – no doubt because he and LB knew the vacation was bogus.

      LB turned to Ruby, no smile. ‘Sit down, Redfort.’

      Ruby sat.

      LB dropped an aspirin in a glass of water before saying, ‘Oh, and Redfort, please don’t irritate me today; I’m a little out of sorts and you may find me less than my usual affable self.’

      ‘I’ll keep it, you know …’ Ruby mimed turning a key in a lock.

      ‘Would you?’ said LB. ‘I have a lot on my mind and a rather bad headache to contend with, so please try not to act your age, Redfort … just pretend you’re someone more reasonable.’

      Ruby resisted the impulse to roll her eyes. ‘Got it,’ she said. ‘So you have something for me?’

      LB shook her head. ‘As you are probably aware, we are not assigning cases to field agents in training at this time,’ she said.

      There was a knock at the door and Blacker entered with a Styrofoam cup and a brown paper bag.

      LB looked only a touch alarmed. ‘Lose the baked goods would you Blacker.’

      ‘Oh, sure,’ said Blacker, exiting the room and returning without the bag.

      ‘Actually, would you mind relinquishing the coffee too? You know how it is with white carpets … every little mark.’

      ‘No problem,’ said Blacker, popping out once again and returning empty handed. He winked at Ruby and sat down.

      ‘I requested that Agent Blacker join us since this is as much about coding as it is security,’ said LB. Blacker was a more senior code expert and had collaborated with Ruby on most of her cases.

      There was a buzz from LB’s intercom. ‘Yes,’ she said.

      ‘Agent Delaware has arrived,’ said Buzz.

      ‘Send him in,’ said LB.

      The door opened and in walked a very short man with not too much hair. His blue-black suit was perfectly pressed, he held a shiny briefcase under his arm, had neat glasses on his nose and looked like he got things done.

      ‘This is Agent Delaware from Spectrum 1,’ said LB. She nodded at him. ‘Good to see you, Stanley.’

      Agent Delaware shook everyone by the hand, opened his briefcase, took out a leather-bound notebook and an expensive-looking fountain pen, closed the briefcase, placed it next to his chair, opened the notebook, unscrewed the lid of the fountain pen and held it poised above the blank page.

      ‘Agent Delaware will be spending some time with us here in Spectrum 8,’ said LB. And that was clearly as far as she was going to go with her explanation as to what this man was doing sitting there with his smart little notebook.

      LB looked at Ruby. ‘Redfort, it would be helpful if you could walk us through the events that took place on the night of the 15th of September.’

      ‘You want me to say it all over again?’ Ruby asked, looking from one agent to another.

      ‘I am aware that you have been through the debriefing process already, Redfort, but for the sake of our visiting agents, Agent Trent-Kobie and Agent Delaware, could you tell us exactly what occurred up there on the roof of the Circus Grande Hotel and the events leading up to it?’

      Ruby took a deep breath and said, ‘OK, this is how it breaks down.’ She tore a piece of paper from the notepad on the desk.

      ‘You might want to use the board, Redfort,’ said LB.

      ‘What board?’ said Ruby looking around the room.

      LB pointed to the huge expanse of glossy white wall on the right-hand side, which Ruby realised as she looked at it was more than just a wall. It doubled as a very sophisticated blackboard: instead of chalk there was an electronic pen device. Ruby picked it up, unsure what to do next.

      ‘Just write,’ said Hitch. ‘It will translate your handwriting into typeface.’

      ‘Oh, cool,’ said Ruby. She picked up the pen and began writing out what she knew. ‘Can I draw with this thing too?’

      ‘If you really feel the need,’ said LB.

      ‘OK, so this is Claude Fontaine, our acrobatic cat burglar. He steals the invisibility skin from the Department of Defence and uses it to break in unseen to the DOD safe room and steal the 8 key, your key.’ She