Double Trouble! Epilogue.

I took Laura back to her place. She recovered a little in the car. She'd never been that close to her Dad, and the fact that he was a criminal helped too. Emily was rather quiet, as if she'd done something terribly wrong. I suppose she had, really. After all, she'd killed the father of a girl she was starting to regard as a friend.
Scruff patched up my shoulder, and I was feeling a lot better by the time we arrived at Laura's place. My costume was torn away from my shoulder, but it was a mild night, and it's a whole lot better than going around with a knife stuck in there.
It meant we had to use the stairs. No-one was home - the ape-like manservant had either gone to bed or gone on the run, take your pick.
Up in her room, Laura pulled back her cowl. Under it her face was pretty bruised and battered. She'd heal, though. It could have been so much worse.
"How do you feel?" I asked her.
"Relieved I'm alive," she answered. "You're right, I didn't know what I was getting myself into when I first put this costume on. I guess I thought it was all a game, and it isn't."
"No," I affirmed. That's important. "People die. Us, we've chosen this life. Emily can't really do much else, and me, I'm used to it and in love with a man who does pretty much the same sort of thing. But you can go back."
"I can. Now Dad's dead I'll inherit his money. I have to do something with it - and it won't be bankrolling the Black Kitten!" she laughed. "First I have to go back to school!"
Scruff laughed. I wondered if she really ought to go to school?

We talked for several hours. I wanted to make sure that she wasn't on her own. Then both of us dropped off, and when I woke I was lying on Laura's bed, next to her, and it was morning.
I don't operate in bright daylight, and since Laura was asleep, I slipped out of the house, taking Scruff and Emily with me. Part of me felt bad at leaving Laura, but what else could we do?

She got over her Dad's death pretty well and returned to her expensive school. London was back to having only one cat-themed crime-fighter. As for the Black Kitten's costume, it's hanging in my secret base as a reminder of an adventure in which, for a brief time, I had a double.
Emily's still Emily. The little black smoky crossbow-wielder doesn't change that much. But now she writes to Laura at school every so often. And Laura, bless her heart, writes back.
Scruff's just glad I'm not being so catty any more!

THE END
of 'Double Trouble'

The Girl in Grey will be back in

'REVENGE OF THE ADVENTURER'

Double Trouble! 24.

A black crossbow-bolt knocked the knife out of the air.

"You're finished, Moriarty!" Scruff announced in best movie style, striding into the room with her cape flowing behind her.
"Who the bloody hell do you think you are?" Moriarty asked.
"Me? I'm the girl who's stopping you," Scruff replied happily.
"Do you know who the Black Kitten is?" I asked him, trying to ignore the pain in my shoulder where his knife was still sticking in me.
"What, you think I don't know my own daughter? Of course I know it's Laura. She's just like her mother, selling out everything."
"Dad!" Laura gasped. "You knew it was me and you still did that to me?"
"Yeah. Like I did it to your mother! She was screaming for pity, but I killed her."
Emily struck the shackles off Laura's wrists, releasing the Black Kitten. Laura stumbled forwards.
"Oh! Oh, thanks!"
"What do we do with your Dad?" Scruff asked. It was an important question. After all, there he was, being covered by Emily's crossbow.

"Call the police," Laura replied. "Tie him up and leave him for them to find. There's illegal drugs in this warehouse..."
"You little..." Moriarty pulled a knife from under his coat and leaped forward. But Emily's reflexes are excellent. Unfortunately they're also an assassin's reflexes. She loosed off a bolt without even having to think about it.

Laura screamed as the crossbow-bolt buried itself in her Dad's stomach and he fell to his knees on the floor.
"No! I can't lose!" he cried. But the crossbow-bolt said otherwise. What was worse, there was no hope. Emily automatically shoots to kill.
"I... I'm dying!" he gasped. "And I was going to kill you. All of you..."
He pitched forward onto his face. I checked his pulse, but there was nothing. He was dead.
"No!" Laura cried, kneeling down beside the fallen body. "No! You killed him!"
"I'm sorry," Emily said awkwardly, red glowing eyes cast down. "I... it was a reflex. It was automatic..."

"You're a little killer! Laura sobbed. "Oh, I hate you! Dad! Dad!"
"Laura," I knelt down beside her. "I know how you feel. My Dad was murdered when I was nineteen. It's tough. But you have to go on."
"She killed him..."
"I know. You've killed pople as well, haven't you?"
She nodded tearfully.
"It's not a game, is it? It's nasty sometimes, dirty and unpleasant. And it breaks your heart. Come on. Before the police arrive."
With my arm injured, Scruff had to help Laura up. I called the police from my car just before we left. Once again they were going to pick up the pieces.

Double Trouble! 23.

"Hi," I greeted the men with a disarming smile. They remained resolutely armed.
"Yer ain't gonna rescue nobody," the leader, who looked and sounded like he'd lost boxing matches with every heavyweight in the world, told me.
"Grammar! Two negatives..."
"We don't CARE about no-one's grammar," another of the men declared. "We just care about takin' you to pieces. So the boss is havin' his fun downstairs..."
"No-one tortures my sister!"

I looked up. So did the thugs. We saw Scruff, in her Robin outfit, leaping down from above, cape billowing.
"Wot the..."
Emily opened fire.
If I ever doubt that Emily Fairbairn was trained as an assassin, I just have to watch her at times like these. Her crossbow's just the normal one-shot kind, nothing fancy, nothing out of the ordinary. Still, her rate of fire's amazing. She got off all six shots while Scruff was still in the air. Six pistols dropped from injured hands, and then we were in our element. Emily leaped down to join us.
Scruff doesn't fight fair. She just doesn't, it's how she is. But then the odds were two to one, and we were all a lot smaller than our opponents.

It wasn't a fair fight. For one thing, Emily has superhuman strength. For another, I had my whip and I'm not afraid to use it. And for the third thing, the men were all wounded.
We left the six former heavyweight boxers reflecting unconsciously on how it feels to be beaten by girls and ran for the cellars.
There was a heavy iron door there, and it was locked. But the key was in the lock, so Emily could get through the little grille in the door and unlock it for us.
We faced three more crooks. But they faced the Outsider's crossbow with nothing more than knives. They hung back. I heard Laura scream again.
"Are you scared of three girls?" I asked mockingly. "come on then! I'll show you how to fight!"
My whip disarmed two of them, and Scruff's right boot did the job on the third. We wiped the floor with them. And the floor was pretty dirty too.
Three more men rushed in. I left them for Scruff and Emily. I had more important things to do.
I burst through into the torture chamber. Laura was in a sorry state, I thought as I looked at her. The eyepieces of her cowl were shattered, the portion that covered her mouth was torn away. There were a few cuts to her upper arms and her thighs. Nothing serious. But she was shackled to a wall, and Moriarty -her own father- was standing in front of her with a wicked little knife.
Moriarty whirled, and as he whirled he threw the knife in his hand. I tried to dodge, but I was too late. The blade embedded itself in my right shoulder. Moriarty drew another knife from his jacket.
"No!" Laura screamed. She strained forwards, but she could not break her bonds of steel.
Great, I was facing a knife-throwing villain, and I was hurt.
"Goodbye!" Moriarty threw the knife.

Double Trouble! 22.

Leaving the grey car concealed and secure (not to mention ready to ruin any would-be car thief's evening, should he try to steal it), we moved stealthily to the front of the building. There Emily met us.
"There's two guards on each door," she said.
"Then let's use a different door," I uncoiled my whip from my belt and looked up. Above the alley where I'd left the car were a number of doors for loading goods into the upper floors of the warehouse. Above those rotten wooden doors were cast-iron cranes that had been used to lift goods from the alley where we were to the warehouse's upper floors.
My way in! I caught one of the beams with my whip and climbed the strong leather thong. Hanging there, I was able to quickly get into the building. Scruff and Emily climbed up after me. We stood together in the room that was filled with the smell of decay. I drew a small torch from my belt and handed it over to Scruff. I took another torch for myself.
"I'm going to have to get a few belt-pouches in this costume," Scruff joked.

"We have to be careful," I warned her. "You might be infringing someone's copyright."
"Like you care."
"Like I care," I admitted.
Emily led the way. Being able to become invisible's a pretty handy power. Mind you, being black and smoky's rather a drawback in everyday life. Or that's how I see it. It's how Emily sees it as well.
The upper floors of the building seemed to be deserted. I wasn't very surprised. After all, the floors felt unsafe under my feather-like weight. I dread to think how they'd feel under the feet of one of those former heavyweights London gangsters seem to favour as minders/enforcers. One of them would be liable to end up in the cellar - always assuming the cellar wasn't vaulted, of course.
Emily hissed, a signal for us to stop. We were near the main stairs, and I think that's what she'd found.
Then I heard something else hiss. A couple of seconds later there was another hiss and the sound of two bodies hitting the floor.

Emily's way. I'd hoped we could be a little more subtle than shooting guards. But there we go, Emily's a violent little Outsider, that's all there is to it.
"Come on!"
Whip held ready, I hurried forwards. There I saw Emily standing on the galleried landing and two bodies on the floor below.
"They were expecting attack from the front."
"I know. But..."
I didn't get to finish. I was interrupted by another piercing scream.
Laura! I ran down the stairs, ready to face anything.
Anything but the six huge men with guns who faced me. None of them looked at all friendly. And I don't mean maybe!!!

Double Trouble! 21.

The tracker on the car gave me time to get back down to my car, where Scruff was waiting. She looks rather good in her Robin outfit, I think. Not that I'd force her to wear it when she didn't want to, but our opponents had already seen her dressed like that, so they wouldn't know her appearance any better than they already did.
"Sis! What's up?"
"The Black Kitten's been captured! We need to get after her!" I jumped behind the wheel and started the car as Emily jumped in Scruff's side. The high-tech displays lit up, automatically locating the tracker.
"Hang on!" I called, "They're going fast!"
Why was I going fast too, if I had a tracker on the car? Simple, I didn't know where they were taking Laura, and I wanted to be close enough to see if she was transferred to another vehicle. my car's distinctive, but not a lot of crooks know what it looks like, so I had a chance of not being noticed.
"We have to find where she's being taken," I said.
"And then what?" Emily asked, checking her crossbow. "We rescue her?"
"In short order, yes. She's not one of us, but she's on our side. I can't let her die."
"DIE?" Scruff was horrified. "But it's her Dad..."
"Do you know what he did to her mother? He slit her throat when he found her having an affair with another man. Moriarty may look like a cultured, witty, urbane gentleman, but he's really a ruthless killer."
"That's what I told her," Emily agreed. " So it's vital we rescue her."
"How do we get in?" Scruff asked. "Emily's way?"
"You mean shoot everyone who tries to pull a gun? It has a certain appeal, but no, I don't think so. Of course it depends where she's being taken."
We were speeding through the Capital's streets now. I don't care which speed cameras pick me up - my car's numberplate's a fake. The real one belongs to Ken Livingstone, Mayor of London. I wonder what he does with the penalty notices he recieves?

I tracked the car to Battersea. There it turned off the main road, and I turned too. We were in a warren of old streets, amidst rotting warehouses that had not yet been transformed into luxury residences. Development property belonging to none other than Moriarty himself! I was willing to bet he had a nasty little torture-chamber in one of the buildings. He's that sort of nasty man.
The car signal stopped. I slowed and carried on right by as Scruff used my night-vision goggles from the glove compartment to see what the thugs were doing.
"They're getting her out of the car and carrying her into the building," she reported. I turned the next corner and there I brought the car to a standstill. Emily slipped out and turned invisible. She ran to make sure Laura wasn't just being transferred.
"Okay," Scruff," I turned to my sister. "This is it. Ready?"
"Ready," she smiled.
I heard a piercing scream and I hoped Laura wouldn't be too badly hurt by the time we got to her.

Double Trouble! 20.

"You're surrounded, Black Kitten!" Moriarty crowed in triumph. Laura stood there, in the middle of the auditorium, looking about herself as if searching for a way out. I wished I could help, but I knew that if I came down from my perch I'd just get roughed up with her. She was in serious trouble, and she knew it.
"Surrender and I'll kill you quickly!" the gang boss added. "If you try to fight I'll kill you very, very slowly. You'll be quite a mess when I've finished wih you!"

Terrible choice, I thought.
"I won't surrender!" she cried back, her defiant voice echoing through the building. I amired her then. Maybe she'd kicked me in the jaw, but she had what it took. She was going to face dozens of enemies and almost certain defeat followed by an agonising death. She had no back-up, no possibility of escape or rescue.
"Get her!" Moriarty cried. The minders and hired muscle all rushed the small feminine figure who stood alone in the middle of the building. It was painful to watch.
She was a brave girl, I'll give her that, but she was massively outnumbered. Laura fought as if her life depended on it - which it did. She moved like a dream, hands and feet dealing out blows, sending less skilled fighters flying. For a while it looked like she might at least be able to get away, but every door was guarded and there were no windows. What was worse, the Three Jade Tigers Moriarty had brought in were better than she was. At last they reached her.
"Black Kitten," the leader hissed, her eyes looking into the Kitten's green eyepieces. "Let us teach you a lesson, little girl!"
The minders backed off, and the Jade Tigers circled the Kitten. They struck viciously, making her look clumsy and inexperienced.
It was painful to watch. She was good, but the Three Jade Tigers are legendary. There was no way one sixteen year-old girl was ever going to beat them. She tried to block their blows, even tried to fight back, but nothing worked. The Tigers were experts. she was still learning.
Not that I could take on the Three Jade Tigers. I think Emily could, but she prefers to use her crossbow.
The gangsters cheered on the Tigers and mocked the girl in black as she staggered back from the Tigers' relentless attack. I hate hired martial arts experts, and if I had my way I'd ban them. Us girl crime-fighters need some advantages, after all!
I saw her fall once, twice. Blackie was socked in the mouth and she staggered back. A blow to the back of the head completed the process, and the Black Kitten fell, unconscious, on the floor of the old music hall. She was beaten!

"Take her away and work her over," Moriarty ordered his thugs.
"You don't want to see her face?" one of the women asked. Moriarty shook his head.
"When I'm ready. Your part's done. The accountant will pay you."
Just like that. I'd seen enough. I hurried back to the roof and watched the huge thugs carry the Black Kitten's senseless form out of the music hall. She was bundled into a car.
I quickly threw a magnetic radio-tracker onto the car, then I hurried back to my car.
I was determined to save Laura from her Dad!

Double Trouble! 19.

That night I waited on the roof of the old Music Hall. Scruff was waiting nearby, and Emily was on a nearby roof with her crossbow. Not that that's surprising. She can hardly be separated from her crossbow.
Cars were arriving outside. Men in smart suits with huge minders stepped from the vehicles. There would be a LOT of minders around, I thought, and the Black Kitten was only one girl, albeit a lot more agile than most East End minders. If I hadn't cared about her, I'd have let her get beaten to a pulp - but I'm nice. That's my great failing, I think.
There wan't much I could do on the roof, so I looked around for a way in. There was an old skylight that yielded easily to the persuasion of one of my burglary tools (they're so handy) and so I slipped in that way. From the top of the building I made my way down to a catwalk above the stage whch I figured fitted my costume pretty well. There was no sign of any Kitten there yet.

The building was set out as if for a conference, but the only conferring going on was between Moriarty and a number of sharp-suited men in the middle of the floor.
"You know the drill. When she comes in you can get her. No guns. Just fists and feet. Where are they?"
"Here!"
I saw three oriental women in long coats enter. Even from where I was hiding I could see these were no ordinary criminals. They were the legendary Three Jade Tigers, martial arts experts.
It made sense from Moriarty's standpoint. Your business if being disturbed by a teenager who does martial arts, you hire the three best martial arts professionals in London to take her down.
Moriarty laughed wickedly.

This wasn't a business meeting, I realised with a shock. This was a trap, pure and simple! Moriarty must have figured out there was a leak in his organisation and staged this whole thing just to get the Kitten. If I'd been worried before, I was even more worried now.
"Where is the target?" the lead Jade Tiger asked.
"On her way. My men have instructions to let her in here then seal the doors. It'll be a cage match."
"The three of us against one girl? Hardly honourable."
"True. But I'm a London gangster, not some oriental with silly ideas about honour."
"And you pay very well, Mr. Moriarty."
"Moriarty!"
Every eye went to the rear gallery, mine included. There, at the front, stood the Black Kitten. The girl certainly knew how to make an entrance. There was no way I could warn her without sealing my own fate. I was helpless, a mere onlooker.
"The Black Kitten!" Moriarty exclaimed.
"The very same!" With a graceful leap she jumped from the gallery to the centre of the hall. Moriarty laughed.
"Utterly predictable! The trap is sprung!"
The doors all slammed, and the Black kitten looked around, trapped!

Double Trouble! 18.

I was sorry to hear Laura wasn't listening. That meant she was going to get hurt, I thought. I don't like the dea of anyone who isn't a crook getting hurt, and the idea of Laura getting hurt by her own Dad was even worse.
I turned on the car's secure radio link to home.
"Scruff?"
"Loud and clear," she replied. "What's up?"
"Laura won't listen. What's she putting on her blog?"
Take a look!"
"Not while driving!"
I pulled over and pulled up 'The Black Kitten Strikes' on the web. There in front of me was a worrying sight.

I 'm going to teach Mr. Moriarty a lesson tonight. He doesn't know where, but I do. I wonder if he likes the theatre? I'm sort of old-fashioned. I think I would have liked the old music hall.

I was annoyed. It was a clue, and I couldn't figure out what she meant by it!
That's incredibly annoying. Especially when you're a detective.
"Emily?"
"Sounds random," she replied.
"I know it does. But it can't be... oh! the little fool!"
"What's up?"
"She's bragging! That's just the easiest way to get caught and probably to get badly hurt as well! She's posted a clue telling everyone where she'll be tonight!"
"Which is?"
"Emily! it's staring you in the face! She's going to be at the old music hall! I bet she thinks she's clever too."
"What do you mean?"
"Once there were dozens of music halls in London. There's now only one that survives. It takes private bookings, and Moriarty, like most mobsters, has a legitimate 'front' as a respectable businessman. He must have hired the hall for tonight, and Laura thinks she can break up his meeting. But he's bound to have the place well guarded!"
"Meaning?"
"Meaning we're going to have to be in the area, Outsider. Scruff, fancy a fight?"
"Go on then. But I'll have to wear my Robin costume."
"You look great in it," Emily taunted her.
"Come back here and say that, black-and-smoky!"
But really it was very, very serious.

Double Trouble! 17.

"Hey!" I protested as the huge ape of a manservant manhandled me. "I'm a charity collector! What on earth...?"
"Simple, my dear Miss Hall," Moriarty, who was wearing a smoking-jacket, drawled urbanely. "I'm a regular subscriber to the Dogs' Home."
"Which is why I came to your front door! I'm a good girl, Mr. Moriarty, and your behaviour is completely unacceptable!"
I wasn't acting either. Men who treat women like that are beyond the pale!
"Where's your identification?"
Like I'm that stupid! I innocently produced it, and Moriarty let me go. Scruff's really good at forging identification as well. I cook breakfast, she forges my Dog's Home ID.
I went back to the car, set the security system, and waited. Part of me wanted the thug to come out and touch the car - I felt he deserved a nice big electric shock.

[Outsider here]
I think Jane's able to look after herself (well, she looks after us quite well anyhow), so I just followed orders and hurried up the stairs. I know Jane prefers it if we follow orders, and she's pretty good at talking her way out of difficult situations.
On the landing I faced a number of doors. The sound of Laura's voice rather revealed her location to me, and I entered her room thorough the keyhole. It's kind of uncomfortable, but it's more discreet than opening the door. Also I wasn't completely sure who Laura would be speaking to.
"... I'll be fine, Molly!" she was saying into a pink telephone handset. Making sure she was alone in the room, I made myself visible.
"Oh! Gotta go!" Laura exclaimed. She put the 'phone down and faced me.
"You!" she said.
"Li'l ol' black-and-smoky me," I affirmed.
"Wht are you doing here?"
"The Girl in Grey figured out who you are. If she did it... your Dad can."
"I can handle Dad."
"You don't know what a ruthless killer he is, Laura!"
"And you do?"
"Well, I kill people ruthlessly too. But only criminals. Laura, I'm worried. If your Dad catches you..."
"SHE sent you! Well, tell her I can handle things. I'm not a child any more. I'm sixteen!"
"I'm twelve."
"TWELVE!" Laura was incredulous. Most people are when they find out.
"Twelve. I'll be thirteen in May."
"Then you know..."
"I know how dangerous this life is." I sat down on her bed. "And you've chosen to go up against your Dad, Laura. Be careful."
I left her there and returned to the car.
"She won't listen," I told Jane. Jane nodded sadly.
"I'm sorry," was all she said before we drove off.

Double Trouble! 16.

Once I had dressed after my shower, I had to make breakfast for Scruff and Emily. Scruff's only good at burning food, and I like my bacon a lot less charred than she does.
"You're a great cook, Sis," Scruff told me through a mouth full of food. I shook my head and sighed.
"Scruff! Mouth CLOSED!"
"Sorry." she answered, her mouth still full of food. She's impossible sometimes!
It was a little after ten when my grey Jaguar left its garage behind the block where we live. I was driving and Emily was being invisible in the back.
"What's the plan?" she asked me.
"My plan is to ring the bell. When the door's opened, you slip in and find Laura. Tell her that she's in terrible danger."
"Great plan. She'll just laugh at you. She doesn't know you like we do, so she does't respect you."
I love that about Emily, she's so considerate.
We arrived at Moriarty's residence in Clapham in wonderful sunshine. The house is incredibly smart, and it took someone as brave as myself to walk boldly up to the door and push the bell.

The door was opened by an old retainer who looked like he'd been a heavyweight boxer once. Now he was in his second career - that of a thug.
"Wot d'yer want?" he demanded menacingly. I fluttered my eyelashes at him.
"My name's Jane Hall," I adopted my most transparent alias. "I'm collecting for the Battersea Dogs' Home, and..."
"Buster, what is it?" I heard Moriarty's voice. He sounded worryingly calm.
"A Miss 'All 'oo's collectin' fer the Battersea Dogs' 'Ome," Buster replied in broad Cockney.
"Ah! Show her in."
He wasn't supposed to do that. He was meant to turn me away. I was actually worried.
I was even more worried when the huge manservant grabbed me by the front of my blouse and dragged me inside. I lost two buttons in the process. There HAS to be an easier way to drag a girl inside!
Not that I had the time to say that sort of thing then. I just thought that I was in serious trouble!
And I don't mean maybe!

Double Trouble! 15.

I rose early, as I usually do, to find Emily was already up and watching the breakfast news.
Then so was I. A huge fire had ripped through a haulage company's yard in the East End, destroying everything. Five men working for the company had been killed. Apparently it was arson. A girl in skin-tight black had been seen running from the scene, but the police had no leads on her.

I did. The Black Kitten had struck again. Moriarty owned that yard, and although the news report said that the yard and goods had been fully ensured, I knew differently. There had been items in that yard that no-one could insure because they were very, very illegal. The Black Kitten had destroyed several million pounds' worth of heroin shipments that had been stored in the yard prior to their being sold on.
She was waging a one-girl war against her Dad's business. Maybe Laura thought she was clever and wouldn't be caught. Certainly she's overpowered the guards there. But I knew it was only a matter of time before she slipped up and discovered this isn't a game, it's a serious, deadly business.
"It's her, isn't it?" Emily said. I nodded soberly.
"It's her. That was one of her Dad's businesses. He wn't be in the mood to donate funds to any cause, however good, this morning. I know he kept heroin shipments in that yard."
"How do you know?"
"Oh, I have a friend who has sources of information. An old school and university friend. She keeps me up to date with these things. That heroin wasn't moving for another week, and I was planning a raid on the yard myself..."
"But Blackie beat you to it?"
"Yes, she did."
"It must be hard, having a Dad who's a crime boss."
"Yes. Now, I need to take a shower and you need to dress."
She may be black and smoky, but I could see her hair was done up in a towel.
"Okay, boss," Emily slipped off the sofa and ran back to her room while I went to use the shower.
Blackie was playing a dangerous game, I thought to myself as I showered. Obviously she was rebelling against her father, but while for most teenage girls that results in long rows and sulking, Laura was liable to end up dead or worse. Yes, you read that right. There are nastier things than ending up dead, and Mr. Moriarty, charming fellow that he is, knows most of them.
I had to warn her. And I had to deal with Mr. Moriarty. That's not what I normally do, usually I work slowly towards smashing big gangsters like him, but little Blackie had forced my hand. Bless the irritating little girl!

Double Trouble! 14.

We were greeted by a tired Scruff when we got back. She looked like she needed to go to bed.
"Hi, Scruff," I said cheerily. She groaned.
"Hi yourself, Sis. How was it?"
"Great. Emily now knows the Black Kitten, and apparently they get on okay."
"Wonderful. What now?"
"Now we know who she is, I'm going to pay Mr. Moriarty a visit."
"Sis, that house..."
"She gets in and out, doesn't she? Anyhow, it won't be the Girl in Grey, it'll be..."
"Batgirl?" Sometimes Scruff can be very annoying.
"No, Miss Jane Hill, wealthy philanthropist."
"In glasses?"
"In glasses. He's never seen me unmasked before, and if I wear glasses I might look less athletic."
"You won't. What make you think he'll even look at your face?"
"Scruff, now you're being offensive."
"Sorry, force of habit. Will I have to come too?"
"No. I'll take Emily along. If you'll come."
"Try to stop me," Emily said with determination in her voice. Actually you don't try to stop Emily. If you do you end up with a crossbow bolt in you and she carries on without you. Not that she's ever shot me, but she's shot other people.
"Then I want you to go and meet with Laura while I'm talking to Mr. Moriarty. You have to warn her that her Dad won't spare her just because she's his daughter."
"Okay. And what do we do now?"
"We go to bed. Whatever the Black Kitten's doing tonight the clues on her blog are far too vague for me to get in there before she turns up. I wish she'd be more precise because I'm getting worried about her."
"You're jealous," Scruff said tauntingly.
"Scruff, it took me months to train to my presnt level of perfection. When I was tracking the men who paid for Dad's death I nearly died four times. The Black Kitten might not be so lucky. I'm worried about her."
I hoped that would wash. To tell the truth I was a little annoyed with her for kicking me in the jaw and taunting me on her blog.
But I was tired, so I went off to bed. Emily and Scruff went to bed too. We'd need all our strength the following day.
And so would Laura, although none of us knew that.

Double Trouble! 13.

I looked up as I heard the door of my car open. The Outsider slipped inside, red eyes glowing brightly.
"What did you find?"
"Pat Malone's not the Black Kitten, but she's a friend of hers. The Kitten and Pat are trying to smash their fathers' rackets."
"Whew! That's pretty personal!" I exclaimed. Mobster's daughters out to get their dads. THAT was serious family trouble and no mistake! My detective abilities were proven, I'd thought it was family related. A lot of things to do with mobsters are, after all.
"I'm afraid I scared Pat, and her scream brought some bodyguards in. Blackie and me fought them off..."
"BLACKIE!?" I cried, amazed.
"Yes. She's really nice. After I convinced her I'm not a thing, anyhow."
"She's a friend?"
"My friend. She sort of wants to do everything on her own. But we can't let her. She's not a professional like we are..."
"Thanks, Emily." I started the car. "Scruff, did you get that?"
"I did. Are you coming home now?"
"Not immediately, I've got some things to check up on. Like Belle Olivers."
"Fast asleep in her cosy little bed. I got into the security system at her parents' house."
That was strange. It meant we'd checked all three suspects and NONE of them were our girl.
"Widen the search parameters," I instructed. "She may be putting on that Cheltenham accent."
"Okay, Sis. Emily, is she nice?"
"Kind of intense, but yes, nice. She fights really well."
"We knew that. Her Dad's a mobster - which doesn't help, all the girls there were gangster's daughters. That suit doesn't help... but that has to be the idea. She covers her body completely, but that thing's so tight it doesn't conceal anything about her figure. Her Dad's probably quite prominent too. So..."
I could picture Scruff sitting at her computer typing. At first I found her habit of spending hours on the internet annoying. Now I found it wonderful. My sister's so talented I really wanted to make her my secretary.
"Searching now," she said. Then she laughed.
"Sis! This is SO good! It's wonderful!"
"Scruff!"
"It's great, oh, I'd never have guessed..."
"Scruff, give it up! WHAT did you find?"
"Laura Moriarty. She's the right height, public-school educated, dresses a lot like me, although she has brown hair and green eyes. I'll show you." A picture came up on one of the screens in the dashboard.

"I see. She looks a nice girl."
"Apparent she is. Takes after mother. Intelligent too, and she's the sporty type..."
"Unlike you."
"Hey!"
"Sorry. So... Laura Moriarty. Oh no!"
"What's up?" Scruff asked me.
"She's probably counting on her Dad sparing her. But he won't. Moriarty's the sort of vicious so-and-so who'd just go right on with the torturing even if he knew who she was!"
We were going to have to protect her from her own Dad!

Double Trouble! 12.

[Outsider here]
I might not agree with everything the Black Kitten was doing, but she was brave. I wasn't going to let her show me up and, drawing my crossbow, I stepped through the door to stand beside her.
We faced four armed men in pyjamas and one armed woman in a nightie. The Black Kitten radiated defiance in her pose.
"Hi!" she said.
"The Black Kitten!" one of the men cried.
"Yeah, Moriarty wants her alive," the woman declared. "He'll pay ten thousand pounds for her!"
"Sounds good to me," one of the men agreed.
"You forgot someone," I said, stepping forward.
"The Outsider!" even the men were afraid.
"Stay out of this, Outsider," the Kitten warned. I shook my head resolutely.
"What, and miss all the fun? No way, Kitten-cat. I enjoy a fight too!"
"Okay!" the Black Kitten laughed, "Two and a half to one!"
"Nice odds. I prefer them higher!"
One of the men went for his gun. I shot him through the right wrist, and then there were three men and a woman.
The Black Kitten was a great little fighter. Okay, she's bigger than me, but she's smaller than Jane. We fought as a team, using the geography of the house as a weapon. We moved smoothly, fluidly, knocking out our opponents one by one.
The woman caught the Kitten's left ankle and threw her to the floor. The Kitten was prepared for that, she bounced back to her feet, and when she knocked the woman down, the woman stayed down.

"Go!" the Kitten cried as we heard the sound of heavy boots descending the stairs. We ran through Pat's room together and hurled ourselves out of the window. We landed on top of an expensive car, denting its roof, and then we ran away from the house.
"Outsider, you're wonderful," the Black Kitten gasped when we deemed it safe to stop running.
"You're not so bad yourself, Blackie."
"BLACKIE!!??" she cried. I laughed.
"Blackie. Don't you like it?"
"Well, yes, but..."
"Then I'll call you Blackie. I'm Emily Fairbairn, by the way. I'm officially dead, so that name doesn't mean anything to anyone."
"I can't tell you my real name."
"What are you trying to do?"
"Get myself killed, I think sometimes. No, I... I've got a family problem. This is my way of trying to solve it."
"You're deliberately putting yourself in harm's way because your Dad's a gangster?"
"Pretty much, yes."
"I was afraid of that. I have to get back to the Girl in Grey."
"And I have to get home. So long, Emily! See you later!"
"So long, Blackie!"
I watched her until she vanished from sight and I heard a motorbike start up. Then I went back to Jane. I hoped the Kitten would be all right.

Double Trouble! 11.

[Still The Outsider speaking]
"You!" the Black Kitten exclaimed, looking right at me. I decided there was no point disappearing, and I remained visible, black, smoky, and with two very obvious red eyes that glowed in the darkness of the room.
"Me," I confessed. "And you."
"You're the thing that shoots people."
"I'm a girl!" I protested, "not a thing! I'm called The Outsider."
"All right, you're The Outsider. Now, what on earth are you doing here?"
"Snooping. What are you doing here?"
"I'm visiting Pat. You wouldn't understand."
"Try me, I'm a very clever girl. I got in here without triggering the alarms."
"So did I."
"Yes, but no-one left the window unlocked for me. Pat, your friend's here!" I prodded the redheaded girl, who started awake.
"Oh!" Pat sat up and looked at the Black Kitten "It's you!"
"Me," the Black Kitten sat down on her bed. "How did your Dad take my turning up at the party?"
"Not too well. He hustled me out of there in a hurry when that girl in the Batgirl suit joined you. Kitten, that was INSANE! There were men with guns there! You could have been killed!"
"But I wasn't. Pat, you agree that your Dad can't be allowed to carry on making his own personal empire in London, but you won't take any risks!"
"I'm taking one now talking to you. But what you're doing..."

"Is my business!" The Kitten turned away. "I don't have to justify myself to you, Pat. You've got to justify yourself!"
They were friends, I realised, friends who'd come up with a plan to smash the gangs their parents controlled. I smiled. I'd got myself a clue!"
"Why didn't you two go to the Girl in Grey?" I asked. Like I had. I set up on my own as a vigilante, why shouldn't the Black Kitten?
Pat hadn't noticed me before. Now she did, and she screamed at the sight. I'm not too surprised by that, actually, I do look scary.
"Pat!" the Black Kitten cried, "you've torn it!"
I heard the sounds of people running towards the room. The Black kitten bravely stepped to the door and flung it open, to face whatever lay beyond!

Double Trouble! 10.

The Black Kitten had not replied to my reply to her comment, and Scruff was still working on breaking into Joe Olivers' security system. Meanwhile the Outsider was inside the Malone house. I'll let her tell what happened there.

'Muggins' Malone had a pretty good security set-up, but only hermetically sealing the place would have kept me out, and that would have suffocated everyone inside too, so it would have been silly.
I came in through the letterbox as a cloud of black smoke and resolved myself into me on the doormat. A huge ferocious dog bounded in, saw me, and ran off again whimpering with fear, its tail between its legs. I do that to dogs, I'm not sure why. Jane's cats all like me, but maybe it's a cat-dog thing.
The house was a pretty smart one, expensively renovated too. I moved completely silently, ignoring the closed-circuit TV cameras, since I don't exactly go around by daylight. I could have been invisible, but I'm the Outsider, I have a reputation to keep up.
The laser-beams that were projected above dog-height passed straight through my black smoky form. I'm a nightmare to security systems because I'm transparent.
With a dog around there weren't going to be pressure sensors, which meant I could move easily. I headed up the stairs, looking for Patricia's room.
It was a pretty easy search. It had 'Pat's room' written on a pink plaue on the door. That was thoughtful of her. Instead of opening the door I poured myself through the keyhole and became solid again inside.
It was a nice bedroom. Rather like one I had before I was the Outsider, only of course a little more grown-up. There was a dress on the floor, and Pat, arather pretty girl with red hair, was lying in bed sleeping soundly. I always get a little upset when I see pretty girls with red hair, because I ougt to be one. Well, I was one, actually.

I dissolved again and poured myself into her wardrobe. That's not a very comfortable thing to do, but I didn't want to wake her. I also thought that, if she was the Black Kitten, there might be a secret compartment in the back of her wardrobe. As a gas I'b be able to find it.
Keeping myself together in a single cloud, I drifted about the wardrobe. It's a really weird feeling, being a gas.
I drifted through a gap, into the cupboards above the wardrobe. I drifted about some more, and ended up back outside the wardrobe, near the ceiling. No secret back. I quickly resolved myself into a girl again, and looked around.
The window slid up, and I gasped. Now I knew Pat wasn't the Black Kitten - there they were in the same room!

Double Trouble! 9.

I left The Outsider at the corner of the street where 'Muggins' Malone lived. Her black smoky form ran down the street until it vanished from sight. I settled back in my driving seat to wait for her, bringing up my own internet connection on one of the screens in the dashboard.
I typed my search parameters into my custom search engine. Scruff manufactured it for me, it's a tad more intelligent than Google, and it looks for the things I particularly want. There are chatrooms criminals use to talk to one another and to plan. They do it in code, of course, but I know the code.
Then I had another idea. I went to the Black Kitten's blog.

There was that familiar black-masked face, and 'The Black Kitten Strikes'.

Dear World. Mr. Moriarty wants to do me some harm. Well, I'm going to do him a lot more harm, because I'm going to wreck his organization for good. He doesn't know how much I know about him and his operation - isn't that fun? So he won't know where I'm going to strike next.

I had a bad feeling about this. The Black Kitten sounded way too cocky for her own good. She might well just go barging in there and get herself captured. A girl doesn't want to get captured by Moriarty, because he's a sadistic so-and-so. I left a comment on her blog:

Kitten, don't let him capture you. He's VERY nasty.

Like she was going to listen to me, but I felt I'd done my duty. She's just about Scruff's age, and somehow I felt responsible for this girl who'd pinched my gimmick. Even though the cat costume's hardly original.
I waited, my system automatically refreshing the page every minute. At last another comment came up, from the Black Kitten herself.

I can take care of myself, Grey Girlie. I know Moriarty.

She probably did at that, I reflected. If she was a mobster's daughter she'd be very close to him and to sources of information I don't have access to. That could work in my favour, but on the other hand it might not.
"How's the search going, Grey?" Scruff's voice came over the secure link.
"Fine, Scruff. Emily's just checking on Pat Malone. If she's asleep in bed that rules her out, since the Black Kitten's online."
"Great, and that leaves Belle Olivers. Is she the daughter of Guiseppe Olivera?"

"Or Joe Olivers as he calls himself these days? Yes. Her parents are both Cockneys..."
"I know Joe. Head of the London branch of the Mafia. Charming if you don't get on his bad side. If you do, you take a nap with the fishes."
"From which you don't wake up?"
"Exactly. You know your gangsters. So you see why I'd rather not break into his daughter's bedroom. He might get the wrong idea."
"He might. I'll see if I can hack into his security system."
"He's got one?"
"Yes. And it's linked to the web. My way in."
I love my team.

Double Trouble! 8.

The thugs lunged for me. I slipped out of the way and let them bang their heads together.
Then I went into action. I left the three huge thugs strewn about the street like so many rag dolls and the intelligent-looking man looking scared.
"I..."

"Sorry, you had a duff bunch of thugs. So, you think Wendy Sanders is the Black Kitten? There are better ways of finding out than going in there mob-handed."
With that I pulled my whip from my belt and began to ascend the building.
It was one of those nice places you can climb quite easily with the help of a study bullwhip, and soon I was outside Wendy's apartement. That high up the windows aren't usually very secure, and I got in easily.
Wendy Sanders was in bed and asleep, but I move quietly. I was looking for clues to establish whether or not she was the Black Kitten. Wendy was the only one of our suspects who lived alone, and that made me feel she was a very likely candidate. Until I saw her face, that is. She'd been at the party all right, but I'd seen her, and her costume would hardly have covered a postage stamp, let along the Black Kitten's costume! No, it wasn't her. That left Pat Malone and Belle Olivers. Both of those girls lived with their parents, and that would make things more difficult for me.
I left the way I came and I landed lightly on top of one of the fallen gangsters.
"I'm back," I greeted the remaining gangster. "It's not her, she was the girl in about two square inches of fabric. You know, the blonde?"
"Her!" the man laughed. "Well..."
Then I kicked him in the jaw and laid him out. I'm allowed to be catty (it goes with the outfit), but I wasn't going to let him make a coarse remark. And anyhow, I don't like having gangsters running around the place. After that I scrammed in the car, since Ken Livingstone isn't too keen on people who leave litter either. If he found out it was me, I'd be in serious trouble.
"Result?" Emily asked me in the car. I shook my head.
"Negative one. She was at the party, but I saw her when the Black Kitten was in the room."
"Pat Malone's next," Scruff's voice said over the secure radio. "She's the daughter of 'Muggins' Malone of Poplar..."
I groaned. I'd been afraid of that.
"Grey?" Emily asked.
"'Muggins' Malone's a vicious sort of man. He lives in a house that's almost a fortress."
"Then leave it to me," Emily suggested. "I can get in through the keyhole or something. Come on, you've got me on the team!"
Like I was going to forget that in a hurry. Emily's wonderful, but she one managed to empty a cinema by making herself visible during the film. It didn't help that the movie was scary anyhow, but think the appearance of The Outsider during a film showing would have scared them even if it had been a rom-com.
"Okay, Outsider, you can see about Pat Malone."
I hoped she would be all right. After all, she is just about twelve.

Double Trouble! 7.

I changed into my Girl in Grey costume in the secret base, which is concealed inside an apparently abandoned building around the corner. My computers were working furiously as Scruff did her stuff with the databases. I wonder how I managed without her. All that computer stuff takes up so much time when I could be training or fighting crime. Scruff just loves it. I hoped she'd be able to hack into the Black Kitten's Blogger account too. Yes, I was still feeling catty.
"So, where to?" The Outsider asked.
"My choice. I don't let you drive unless I can't. You don't have a licence."
"I'm black and smoky and officially dead," Emily pointed out. "I can't get one."
"Point taken," I agreed. "But you're also about twelve."
"I can still drive. Where are we going?"
"After the Black Kitten."

The powerful grey car roared out into the night. The radio bleeped and I pushed a button on the ultra high-tech dashboard.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Grey, it's Scruff. I just thought you might like to know that Mr. Moriarty's vowed vengeance on the Black Kitten. He's threatening to do all sorts of nasty things to her."
"Par for the course, I suppose. Any progress on identifying her?"
"Three possible candidates, Belle Olivers, Wendy Sanders and Pat Malone."
"You're kidding me about the last one?"
"No, Pat Malone. Patricia..."
"I know, but still. Just three?"
"Just them."
"Great. Who lives closest to us?"
"Wendy Sanders. I'm sending her address to you now."
That's what I love about computers. And with my state-of-the-art navigation system, Scruff could just send me the address and the computer would tell me where it was.
It told me. I drove there as fast as I could, only to see three huge East End toughs pile out of a car parked outside the building in which Miss Sanders lived.
Apparently Mr. Moriarty had the same idea I did. Only he was a whole lot less subtle than I am.
One of the ape-like thugs pushed a button on the intercom. I quickly parked and juped out of the car.
"Are you boys looking for someone?" I asked seductively, strolling up behind them.
The thugs whirled. Clumsy, I thought, former boxers who couldn't cut the mustard in the ring.
"It's 'er!" one cried. The smaller, intelligent man who was directing them shook his head.
"No, you idiot, that's the Girl in Grey."
"Just as you say," I affirmed. I felt rather annoyed that they'd speak of me like that.
"'Ere!" another thug suddenly cried. "Ain't she the enemy too?"
"Yes," the intelligent-looking man agreed. "Take her to pieces."

Double Trouble! 6.

"All right, girls, put your hands up!"
"Okay," I did so in the most seductive way possible, and the Black Kitten followed my example. Unfortunately the gun didn't waver.
"Now, I'm going to..."
"You're going to put down your gun before I put a bullet in your back."
We'd forgotten about Scruff. She stood there in her Robin costume with a very large gun in her hand. At that moment Emily materialised in the little gallery, crossbow held ready.
"Between us," she told the gunman, "we could kill you. Drop the gun."
He dropped it, and then he ran. Emily juped down from the gallery.
"Let's go," I said with feeling. The Black Kitten nodded.
"I've got my own exit," she said. "So long!"
"Wait, you little..."
She didn't. And I wasn't going to get Emily to stop her.
"Okay," I told my team, "we're getting out of here!"
We scrammed. I like a good fight, but I didn't see any reason to wait until the heavy artillery arrived.
Back at the apartment I flopped on the sofa. We were both still in our fancy-dress costumes.
"There you are, Scruff, we've met the Black Kitten."
"Yeah," Scruff agreed. "She's okay."
"Scruff! She wears a skin-tight costume and she takes insane risks! I can't shake off the feeling that she's got a very personal reason for doing what she does."
"Maybe some London mob murdered her Dad?" Scruff offered her constructive opinion.

"Which leaves the field WAY too wide."
"I know. But her voice was educated. Like yours."
"Which means she went to a good school! Scruff, I think her accent's Cheltenham! That narrows the field enormously!
"Well, I try to help."
"And you DO help! Emily?"
"She has to be on the guest list. Have you got that, Scruff?"
"Yes. But she might have done what I did and added her name. Still, it's a start."
Scruff opened the Black Kitten's blog. She laughed.
"What is it?"
"Listen to this! 'I meet the Girl in Grey'."
I wasn't at all sure I wanted to listen. I was already revising down my opinion of the Black Kitten.
"'Tonight I met the Girl in Grey. Only she wasn't in grey, she was wearing a Batgirl costume, and she had a weird-looking...' Hey! I don't look weird! This girl's got issues!"
I smiled. Scruff had been enjoying herself until she read that description of herself, and I was glad she'd come down a peg or two.
"Of course you don't. Go on."
"... Girl dressed as Robin -as in Batman and - with her. I think she wants to stop me. She nearly got both of us killed, and it was just her weird... her friend who saved us. Her and some really weird black smoky thing with red eyes that sounded like a little girl."
"Hey!" Emily stopped overhauling her crossbow, jumped up and ran over to the computer.
"We've got to find who she is. Scruff, check the guest list. We know she's a white Cheltenham-educated teenager."
"Cheltenham has non-white students!"
"I know, but not many. And that party didn't have any non-whites. It was old London gangsters, not the new breed."
"Okay. I'll patch this machine into your base computers..."
I left her to it. I wanted to go out again, so I took the Outsider and we went to where I keep the car.
Our street doesn't mind my wandering around in a Batgirl costume. Not after dark, anyhow.