The Ring of Five (10 page)

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Regulation offense. For you, Mr. Knutt, it is different. You do deserve such an offense. You are expelled from Wilsons."

Danny looked at Les. His face had gone ashen, and he swayed and would have fallen if Danny had not taken his arm. He wet his lips as if he would speak, but although his mouth opened, no words came out.

"No," Danny said slowly, "the whole thing was my idea."

"Really?" Devoy said. "So it was you who stole the key from Mr. Valant, was it?"

Danny shook his head.

"How ... how did you know about the key?" Les said, finding his voice.

"It is the only way you could have got in. The lock is unpickable."

"If he goes, then I go," Danny said firmly.

"Don't do this, Danny," Les said. "I'm not that important."

Danny took a deep breath. "If you expel Les, I won't go on your operation against the Ring of Five. I mean it."

Devoy's eyes fell on Danny's face and stayed there for a long time. Danny felt a bead of sweat trickle down his back. He knew that Devoy was a proud and complicated man, and that he had crossed a line with the master.

"Very well," Devoy said. His expression as usual did not change, but his voice was like ice. "Knutt stays, for the moment. Return the key to Valant in the morning. Remember that this is more than a school. This is the front line against an enemy that could destroy us all."

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Devoy watched the door close behind the two boys. Danny had stuck up for his friend. It showed admirable loyalty, he thought--probably too much. But then, neither of them had mentioned the Department of Information Extraction, which showed an encouraging tendency toward concealing facts. The instruments in the department had not been used since Longford had deserted and betrayed Wilsons. If Devoy had his way, they would be destroyed, yet Brunholm had a way of working their existence into conversation....

When they got out of the room, the two boys ran as fast as they could to the bridge.

"Thanks," Les said, panting. "I really thought I was a goner that time."

"You would have done it for me," Danny said. There was a quaver in his voice. He had not been as confident as he looked in facing down Devoy.

"You don't know how much it means," Les said.

There was a strange tone in his friend's voice, and Danny looked over at him, but couldn't see his face in the dark.

They reached the door to the bridge and unlocked it. Les stowed the key in his jacket as they stepped out. The storm had subsided a little and the gangway was easier to cross. But this time two pairs of eyes watched them as they crossed. Below, McGuinness watched without expression from under the dripping brim of his hat. And from her perch high on the rooftop, the siren watched them.

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THE UNKNOWN SPY

The morning was a blur of rising and getting dressed and teeth brushing, with an irritated-sounding Blackpitt muttering through the speakers about how the place was going to the dogs and in the old days cadets were up and dressed before dawn.

"Never mind him," Les said. "He's always grumpy in the morning."

They raced down the stairs and across the lawn to Ravensdale, where they wolfed down bacon and pancakes.

"Did you sleep okay?" Dixie asked Danny.

"Fine, thanks," he said.

"I dreamed about a faraway world," Dixie said. Danny waited for her to go on, but she didn't, just sat with her fork raised and a thoughtful look in her eyes. Danny grinned to himself. He was getting used to Dixie.

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"What class do we have this morning?" Danny asked. He tried to look eager, as if a morning of invisible inks or codes was just the thing.

"Double maths and geography," Vandra said shortly.

"Oh," Danny said. "You get to do that stuff here as well?"

"Course we do," Smyck said. "You wouldn't be much of a spy if you couldn't read or write, would you?"

"How do you spell 'Cherb'?" Exspectre said, making a wheezing, gasping sound that Danny realized was a laugh.

That's it, Danny thought, I'm definitely getting out of here.

He followed the others out of Ravensdale. They turned left and went through an archway in the hall. Danny stayed toward the back of the group, looking for a chance to get away. He got his opportunity when he saw two doors side by side. One had a male figure on it wearing a cloak and a top hat, the cloak pulled up so that his face was concealed. There was a revolver in his hand. The other had a woman on it, with a scarf concealing her head, and a long stiletto blade in her hand. The signs were a bit over the top, Danny thought, but the toilets would be an ideal place to hide until the others had gone ahead. He let them walk on for a moment, then ducked in.

He closed the door carefully behind him, and stood there listening. Not a sound. When he was sure that the others were gone, he turned to take stock of his surroundings, and realized that the place did not look remotely like a toilet. In fact, it looked like only a small hallway, with a

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hat stand in one corner and a door, which, as he watched it, began to swing open. Moving slowly, reluctantly, yet as if compelled to do so, Danny stepped through the door.

He found himself in a darkened room. He could dimly see a large bookcase to his left and a marble fireplace to his right. In front of him, large curtains hung from ceiling to floor. And in front of the curtains was a large mahogany desk, behind which sat a shadowy figure.

"One more move," a man's voice said, a voice that was educated but weary beyond measure, "one more step into the room and I'll blow your treacherous head off."

Danny froze. Even by the standards of Wilsons, he hadn't expected this. He peered into the gloom and realized that the man sitting behind the desk looked just like the figure he had seen depicted on the door: the same hat and cloak drawn up over his face, the same deadly-looking revolver in his hand.

"So the Ring has taken to sending Cherbs against me." The man gave a harsh laugh. "They think I have dropped my guard after all these years."

"I'm not a Cherb," Danny said quickly, "really I'm not, I only look like one. My name's Danny Caulfield."

The man sat up. His dark eyes scrutinized Danny.

"Not a Cherb," the man said, as if thinking aloud. "Perhaps the boy is telling the truth. It would be strange if a Cherb denied what was plain to see. Yes, it could be true."

Danny's heart leapt. He stayed very still, not wanting to sway the man's thinking.

"But then," the voice went on tiredly, "perhaps it is a

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bluff. A Cherb pretending not to be a Cherb, knowing that it is so unlikely that I will accept it. No, better to shoot and be damned."

The man sat up and raised the gun.

"Wait," Danny said desperately. "If ... if somebody was trying to bluff you, would it not be unlikely that they would send a real Cherb who was pretending not to be one, and would not realize that you would see through it?"

"That is true," the man said thoughtfully. "But then, they could send a Cherb pretending not to be one, expecting me to see through it, and you to point out to me how transparent it is, so that I would then be fooled that a real Cherb pretending not to be real is so see-through and clumsy that I would come around to believing that you are not exactly what you look like, which is in fact a Cherb."

"But anyone with any intelligence would expect you to work that out exactly," Danny said, his brain beginning to overheat, "and so ... so that proves that I'm not a Cherb ... I think ...," he finished lamely.

"I know, it's hard to work out all the possibilities," the man said, almost a kindly tone to his voice. "It's easier just to shoot you now and then we won't have to worry about it anymore."

"I'm not a Cherb!" Danny cried. "I just can't prove it."

"You know," the man said, "I nearly believe you. You're really very good, aren't you? But you see, if there's even the tiniest chance that you're a Cherb--you have to

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understand, the odds just aren't in your favor." The man sighted along the barrel. Danny shut his eyes, but just as he did so, he heard the door behind him open. Help at last! he thought. But that was before something cold and hard touched the nape of his neck.

"Don't move a muscle," a stern voice said--McGuinness!

"Who's there? Who's there?" the man behind the desk demanded, something like panic in his voice. "Don't move. I have bullets for the two of you."

"It's all right, sir," McGuinness said, holding up a badge beside Danny's ear. "Lower World Police, detective division. We'll take it from here."

The man peered at the badge in the gloom.

"How do I know you are who you say you are?"

"You may remember we sorted out a ... situation for your wife last year." McGuinness coughed delicately.

"Ah yes, that was you? All right. You are who you say you are. But watch yourself. These Cherbs are pretty slippery."

"Don't worry, sir, I have the tip of my umbrella at his neck, loaded with class-one venom. He'd be dead before he hit the floor."

"Excellent, excellent. Well, Detective, be alert."

"I will, sir," McGuinness said smoothly, "and thank you for apprehending this villainous-looking sneak. We'll make sure he is taken care of."

"Very good, very good," the man said, keeping his gun trained on Danny as McGuinness backed him out the door. The last thing Danny saw was the man lowering

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the gun, and as he did so, his cloak slipped, revealing for a second a long mournful face--a face that was somehow familiar....

But that was all. The door closed behind Danny. The umbrella was removed from his neck.

"Phew," Danny said. "Good bluff, about the poison in the umbrella tip."

"It wasn't a bluff," McGuinness said. Danny gulped.

"Who is he?" Danny asked. "The man in the room."

"The Unknown Spy," McGuinness said. "He and his wife were in deep cover on the other side for so long that they have both forgotten who they originally were."

"Deep cover?" Danny asked.

"I forgot, you're new. It's when a spy pretends to be someone else and goes and lives that person's life--sometimes for years--until they're needed by their spymaster. The Unknown Spy and his wife were gone for many years. When they came back they couldn't pick up the threads."

"He was pretty strange."

"What were you doing in there?" McGuinness asked, not raising his voice.

"The ... the bathroom ...," Danny stammered. The detective wheeled to look at the door, then smiled grimly.

"Yes ... I suppose I can see how the mistake could be made. But it should not have been made."

"I just ... I had to go," Danny said, boldly building on the lie.

"Not that," McGuinness mused. "The fact is, this

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door is always kept locked. But now it is open. The question is ... was it unlocked for your benefit?"

McGuinness looked at Danny, who had the uncomfortable feeling that the policeman knew exactly why he had ducked into the room. Then McGuinness knelt to look at the base of the door, where there was a padlocked brass bolt that Danny hadn't noticed. The padlock was open. McGuinness took a magnifying glass from his pocket and scrutinized the lock. Danny leaned over until he could see through the glass, but all that was visible was a larger lock, with tiny scratches on it.

With a click McGuinness locked the padlock again and stood up.

"It's time you got to class," he said. "But I have to warn you--you must be alert. You may have been meant to go in there by someone who knew how dangerous the Unknown Spy can be in his confused state. Could be the second time you were meant to have an accident in two days."

"But who wants something to happen to me?"

McGuinness shook his head with a weary look as if to say there was no explaining the wickedness abroad in the world.

"If Detective McGuinness is finished," Blackpitt announced stiffly, "Cadet Caulfield is late for double maths. Take the first left, Cadet Caulfield."

"Wait a second," Danny said as McGuinness began to walk off. "What were you talking about in there--the bit of bother with the Unknown Spy's wife?"

"She got out through the window with that knife of

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hers," McGuinness said without turning round, "just as a Cherb raiding party was coming across the lawn."

"What happened to them?" Danny asked.

"There was a lot of paperwork." McGuinness spoke over his shoulder. Danny watched until he was swallowed by the gloom under the arch.

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TEXAS HOLD 'EM

The maths teacher was a small sallow man called Docterow, with a barely understandable accent, who motioned Danny to his seat with an irritable wave of his hand. Danny felt his heart sinking. He had never been any good at maths, and Docterow looked like the kind of teacher who couldn't understand why everyone wasn't as brilliant as he was. Danny sat down at a chipped desk and waited to be bored. Les gave him a questioning look.

"Tell you later," Danny whispered.

"What is your name?" Docterow demanded.

"Danny. Danny Caulfield."

"Mr. Caulfield. You will learn to think defensively and offensively. You will learn to feint, when to hide, when to stand and fight. Have you played these games?" He reeled off a list of names machine-gun style.