The Outsider Test, – Conclusion.

The adventure over, the four of us, myself, Scruff, the Outsider and Ms. Madison, were in my flat, having turfed the cats off the various places where we wanted to sit (or, in some cases, lie). I was in my big leather armchair (which looks even bigger when I'm in it), Scuff was on the hearth-rug, Ms. Madison was in a smaller arm-chair, and the Outsider was lying on a small sofa, still very much black and smoky, with glowing red eyes.

"So, what are you going to do now?" I asked as I sipped my tea. The Outsider shook her head.
"I suppose I'm stuck like this. I could go on fighting crime..."
"Lynette," Scruff said, "doesn't your boss know about things like this?"
"Things like what Scruff?"
"Like strange Indian cults, for one thing. And occult stuff. I know there's a lot on the internet, but most of it's rubbish."
"Only most?" Ms. Madison joked. "Seriously, I'll ask him. In the mean time, I'm sure he'll be able to look after a small black, smoky girl with glowing red eyes. If you don't mind my asking, how old are you?"
"Thirteen."
"Young enough. And dietary requirements?"
"Food."
"I'd guessed that already, Outsider! What else are you going to need?"
"A bed. And a bath. In fact I'm going to take one now." she jumped up and ran off to the bathroom, from where I heard the sound of running water.

"She's sweet," Scruff said. "Which is kind of funny for a girl who chops heads off."
"Scruff!" Ms. Madison objected. "Well, do you want me to wait until the Outsider's had her bath?"
"If you're going to take her anywhere tonight. Otherwise I'll put her up in the spare room here," I answered. "Ms. Madison, I know we don't see eye-to-eye on everything, but I want to get Emily back the way she used to be. So PLEASE talk to the Green Man about her."
"Don't worry, I will," Ms. Madison ruffled my golden bob. "And I like you really."
"But she doesn't think you're the Green Man's girlfriend," Scruff added. Ms. Madison and I laughed. Scruff laughed too.
I hoped we would be able to find some way to restore Emily. She was right, being black and smoky with glowing red eyes does rather shut a girl out of society. And she ought to know.

But until she was restored, she would remain that mysterious avenger of evil, THE OUTSIDER.


Next time: The Girl in Grey battles against the mysterious League of the Blue Rose!

The Outsider Test, 14. By the Sword

The Outsider and Ramdit Ghul crossed swords. But I knew from the beginning that this was going to be no ordinary sword fight. Suddenly Ghul crouched, and an invisible force threw the Outsider clean through the shop window. Mr. Ghul followed, leaping through the shattered shop-front, into the street.
The Outsider’s blade met his. Scruff, Miss Madison and I ran to the window to encourage the Outsider.
"Come on, Outsider!" Scruff cheered, "You can do it! Take his head off!"
"Scruff!" Ms. Madison exclaimed, "you bloodthirsty girl!"
"But that's what she does, she beheads bad guys."
"That's no excuse!"
In the street the strange sword-fight continued, the tall, dangerous Indian prince and the small, smoky being called the Outsider. Both were good, and neither was above using other tactics. Ghul tried to squash the Outsider with a car, but she tossed it aside.
"You can't win, Emily! I made you what you are, I trained you, I am better than you!"
"Arrogant so-and-so," Ms. Madison said, offended.
"I suppose it's absolute power," Scruff mused. "Go on, Outsider!"
Ghul lunged at the Outsider, but she turned his blade aside and lunged back, cutting his arm. The evil prince cried out in pain.
"You wretched English girl! I'll enjoy killing you!"
"You won't get the chance!"
The Outsider whirled aside like a flurry of black smoke, her red eyes blazing.
"That's it!" Scruff yelled. Ms. Madison shook her head.
"Don't blame me," I told her. "I'm her sister, not her mother. And she went to boarding school."
Scruff let out a piercing whistle as the Outsider slashed Ghul again.
"Yeah! Second blood to the Outsider!"
"Boarding school," Ms. Madison agreed.
Ghul fought like a tiger, but the Outsider fought like a FEMALE tiger, which is a whole lot fiercer. Ghul was driven back despite his ferocity.
"I'll give you my power!" he cried. The Outsider laughed out loud at that.
"Too late, Ghul! I'll give you what you gave my parents!"
The black, smoky sword slashed out, and then Ghul's head, still wearing a surprised expression, was lying on the pavement while his body slid to the ground.
"Paid in full," the Outsider said as she wiped her sword on the fallen body.
"Did you bring a car?" I asked Ms. Madison. "Because I don't fancy taking her home on the tube."
"I'll get it," she replied.

The Outsider Test, 13. Freedom!

The Outsider and I were locked in a cell in the cellar of a shop in Whitechapel. But not for long.
The lock yielded easily to my lock pick, and the guard outside was taken completely by surprise. My kick knocked him out at once.
My cowl and gloves lay with the Outsider’s weapons on a small table. As she armed herself I put on the rest of my costume.
“The cell’s lined with a material that inhibits my powers,” the Outsider explained. “But since it inhibits Ghul’s powers too, it isn’t used anywhere else.”
We ran for the cellar stairs. The Outsider knocked the only guard there flying - great work for a girl who’s smaller than me.
The door at the top was locked, but that did not seem to stop the Outsider. She simply smahed it to matchwood.
The guard at the top of the stairs drew his sword, but the Outsider had hers ready too. Their swords clashed, and I watched the battle, unable to interfere.
The guard was good, but the Outsider was better. She fought like an expert, and although the blade looked as smoky and semi-incorporeal as she did, from the sound it made on the guard’s sword it was obviously genuine steel.
Suddenly she slipped under the guard’s sword and hit him in the stomach. He doubed up in pain, and she wiped her dagger on his coat.
“Outsider!” I objected. “You can’t go around killing people!”
“Why not? Now follow me!”
I followed the Outsider down the hall towards the shop. I heard a scream from the shop, and I recognised it. It was Scruff!
“Outsider! My sister’s in there!”
The Outsider burst through the door into the shop and faced Ramdit Ghul, her red eyes glowing with an intensity I had not seen before.
Scruff and Ms. Madison were pinned to the wall, and obviously very scared. Ms. Madison stared in surprise at the Outsider.
“Ghul! I’m here!”
The force that held Scruff and Ms. Madison was released, and both slid gratefully to the floor.
“Scruff!” I leaped across the shop to help her. She smiled.
“Sis! What happened?”
“I escaped. What about you two?’
“We were coming to rescue you.”
“Who’s that?” Ms. Madison asked, looking at the Outsider.
“That’s the Outsider. She’s... connected with Mr. Ghul.”
“Emily,” Ramdit Ghul smiled at the Outsider. “What do you want?”
“Freedom from you. You said you saved my life, but I’ve begun to doubt that. I think you had my parents killed. Why?”
“I needed you, Emily. You were the perfect subject for the process that made you what you are. My forefathers searched for centuries for the right girl, and there you were. But of course your missionary parents would not think of giving you to a pagan prince such as myself, so I had to resort to less... legal means. And you were a good subject. You took to the training well, I was able to change your form so that you no longer look like Emily Fairbairn. And now you are mine.”
“Not any more.” I saw the sword in her hand. Suddenly Ramdit Ghul drew a sword from under his cloak.
“And so one of us will die, Emily!”
“Yes,” she agreed, putting up her weapon.
They were about to fight to the death!

The Outsider Test, 12. The Outsider's Tale

(I'm back)
I came to slowly. Someone was shaking me.
"Oh, you shouldn't have!" she sobbed. "You shouldn't have!"
I groaned and opened my eyes. I looked up into the Outsider's swirling, semi-transparent face. She was kneeling on the floor beside me, apparently concerned about me, although it was impossible to see any emotion in her featureless face.
"Hi. Are we prisoners?"
"Yes. You shouldn't have..."
"I saw you in trouble... Oh! My mask!"
I had been unmasked, and my gloves had been removed. Other than that I was still wearing my outfit from the fancy-dress party. I had been dumped on the floor, although there was a bed in the cell.
From the dampness of the cell I deduced that we were in a cellar not far from the River. Just me and the Outsider, cellmates.
"How are you?" she asked. The concern in her voice did not show in those glowing red eyes of hers.
"My head hurts. How about you?'
Oh, me," she stood up and drew her black cloak around herself before sitting down again. "I'm still black and smoky, with glowing red eyes. You don't know what's going on, do you?"
"All I saw was a gang of armed men trying to kidnap you. I don't like kidnapping."
"Even when I'm the victim?"
"I don't really care who the victim is, Outsider. But I am kind of surprised they could catch you."
"They know me better than you do. Better than anyone living does. We're in the cellar of an old shop in Whitechapel, a shop that belongs to a man called Mr. Ramdit Ghul."
"We're back in Whitechapel? I probably know this street."
"You probably do, Grey Girl. But we're locked in. And Mr. Ghul intends to take me back to India."
"To India?" I was surprised. She didn't sound Indian.
"Yes. Look, my name is Emily Fairbairn. I was born in Oxford, and my parents became missionaries to India. As soon as I was old enough I joined them out there, working in a remote area. But four years ago we were attacked by local fanatics. My parents were killed, and I was brought to the palace of Ramdit Ghul, a local prince and a reputed holy man. I hoped Ghul would let me go, but he didn't. He told me that I would be in terrible danger if I ever left the palace without his guards, and I believed him. You do when you're small. He treated me like his own daughter, and I thought he was being generous to an orphan. I was wrong.
"Ghul trained me in mystic, arcane rituals that he and his family had guarded for centuries. Using his occult powers he transformed me from an ordinary kid into the Outsider, the strange creature you see now. I learned how to render myself invisible, and Ghul used his powers to make my body... Like this," I heard her sob. At once I caught the Outsider in my arms.
"Outsider!"
"I... was such a pretty little girl! And now I look like this! I'm all alone!"
"You're not. I'm here too. So why are you here?"
"Ghul... Ghul decided to test me. He took me to England disguised as a Muslim girl, covered from head to toe in black. Apparently someone from his organisation had robbed him and fled to England, thinking that Ghul's magic could not pursue him. Ghul told me that I was to be an assassin for his sect, destroying their enemies. He armed me with a sword, a crossbow and daggers. He said a gun would be too noisy. Ghul ordered me to destroy a blackmailer, and I did what he told me. He said he'd change me back into... me again. But when I got back he told me that it was impossible, and I'd have to spend the rest of my life like this. So I ran away. I tried to continue a campaign against blackmailers, but Ghul's men found me and brought me here."
Ghul sounded distinctly evil, I thought. That meant we had to escape and defeat him.
But how? If he really did have occult powers - and the Outsider was proof of that - he could be almost invincible.
Except that the Outsider had occult powers too.
I took a small device from inside the costume's tail and began to work on the lock.

The Outsider Test, 11. Shopping for surprise!

(Scruff continues)

"Okay," the man said threateningly, "Give it to me, now."
I smiled.
"Give what? I don't have any money, or even my mobile 'phone."
He turned on me threateningly. Ms. Madison quickly kicked him in the groin and disarmed him. The robber fled, robbed of his courage.
"I suppose this must be rather a rough area," she reflected. "Come on."
We were looking for the address where the old ambulance that had been used to snatch the Outsider and Sis was registered. According to the police computer it was somewhere around here. We'd parked a little way away so as not to look suspicious (but I think Ms. Madison's outfit looked that, especially the hat) and we made our way towards the building on foot.
I'm a North London girl. While Dad's factory was in Acton, we lived out in the leafy suburbs in the Muswell Hill area. I don't think I've been to Whitechapel more than twice in my life, and one of them was to go to a church service. While Ms. Madison was cool and collected, as she usually is, I was a little scared. This felt like the sort of place where crimes were committed. Nasty crimes. After all, Jack the Ripper had done his crimes in Whitechapel.
That was one reason I'd gone with Lynnette. I didn't want her to be murdered, and two girls together are a lot less vulnerable.
We emerged from the dark alley into a dark street. It looked the sort of place where low criminals hang out, and where muggings happen. I was okay - I didn't have anything worth stealing - but Ms. Madison looked a prime target.
But there, parked in plain sight, was the ambulance.
"That it, Scruff?"
"It is."
"And that shop is the address."
It was one of those all night places that rents DVDs and computer games out. My clothes would look fine in there, but I have a slight public school accent, and Ms. Madison sounds and looks REALLY posh.
"What do we do?" I asked. Usually I stay at home during all this adventure stuff.
"We go in and ask a few questions."
Before I could stop her, Ms. Madison had gone inside. I hurried after her.
"Good evening," she greeted the disreputable-looking man behind the counter.
"What do you want?"
"Oh, I just saw that old ambulance parked outside. It's beautiful. Is it for sale?"
"No. It belongs to the owner, Mr. Ghul."
"Really? Do you think he'd be willing to sell?"
"No, madam, I am not willing to sell."
Mr. Ghul had emerged from the back of the shop. If the man at the counter looked disreputable, his boss looked anything but. He was tall and handsome, hair swept back. He wore one of those high-collared jackets some Indian gentlemen wear, and a long black cloak worked with rich embroidery. His accent was even more public-school than Ms. Madison's.
"You're not? But I'm willing to buy."
"Ah, then one of us is willing, but our wills do not concur. It was most unwise for you to come here, Ms. Madison. MOST unwise."
"I don't think so." she drew the gun she had taken from the robber. Mr. Ghul shook his head.
"You do not know who I am. That gun is useless against me."
Suddenly an unseen force tore the gun from Ms. Madison's hand and pinned both of us to the wall.
"As I said," Mr. Ghul said as the force crushed us against the wall, "most unwise."

The Outsider Test, 10. Sidekicks to the Rescue

I had time to take a shower and change into more comfortable clothes before Ms. Madison arrived. She was perfectly dressed, as always. Some people think we look funny together, the world’s scruffiest teenager and the world’s best-dressed secretary. I just like Ms. Madison. Especially the way she gets annoyed at Sis.
“Scruff, the Green man is NOT your sister's boyfriend," she said sternly to me. I smiled.
"Sorry, I thought he was. You know, he IS the only man she ever dates, It was kind of natural."
Ms. Madison rolled her eyes.
"Scruff! That's... Scruff, you look worried.”
“I am.”
I showed her in. She looked at me and shook her head.
“Scruff, what are we going to do with you? You have to be the most untidy girl I know. And... what did you do to your arm?” she looked significantly at the bandage on my right arm.
“Accident." I wasn't about to discuss how I got injuries with Ms. Madison. Sis can be bad enough. "Look, some men have captured Sis. I got the number of their car, but I don’t know how to get into the police database.”
“Easy,” Ms. Madison sat down in the computer chair and began to work. In seconds we were inside the police database.
"How do you do that?" I asked in admiration.
"I'll tell you later. Where's that number?"
I handed her the car's registration and she typed it in. At once a record came up.
"Former ambulance, now registered to a Mr. Gordon Grant of Whitechapel." That was good news.
"Great! Did you bring your car?"
"Of course. I don't travel by public transport at this time of night. Look, do you want me to go to Whitechapel and mount a rescue?"
I shook my head.
"Lynette, I want US to go to Whitechapel and mount a rescue. I'm not just some untidy teenager whose only use is to chaperone her sister!"
"Okay, Scruff," Ms. Madison laughed. "I'm sorry, I should have been more considerate. Come on then."
We ran out into the night - and I remembered to lock the door.
Ms. Madison has a beautiful car. I felt like royalty or something as I leaned back in the expensive seat.
"You must be paid well," I said.
"Danger money. How about you? Your Dad was a millionaire."
"He left all his money to his two daughters, but my wicked stepmother stole most of my inheritance. So I live with Sis now. I'm really very cheap."
"Poor Scruff!"
We sped through the London night towards Whitechapel. I don't mind saying I was glad I wasn't alone. It's just not the sort of place I like to go on my own after dark. Like most of London, especially at the week-end.
At last Ms. Madison parked the car in a dingy alleyway and we got out. Even in the warm night I shivered. There was rubbish on the ground and graffitti on the walls. It looked kind of run down.
These days Whitechapel is a mainly Muslim area, so all we saw in the way of people were a number of local young men. They didn't look terribly religious, and I'm sure one of them gave Ms. Madison a lustful look - but they ignored me. And why not? She's a lot better looking.
"Follow me," Ms. Madison said. I followed. I wasn't too sure wherewe were going, but I knew Ms. Madison did.
"And what do we have here?"
Hearing the voice behind us, we turned to see a man pointing a revolver.

The Outsider Test, 9. Scruff Takes a Hand

(You people out there know me from my sister’s blogging, but after I asked her (for several days) and pointed out she couldn’t tell what I did so well as me, she let me write this:)

I stood in the alleyway, watching what happened to Sis and to the Outsider. I’m not much good in a fight, so I decided I’d just get in the way if I tried to help like that. I was forced to watch helplessly as a gun was produced, and Sis was knocked out. She was loaded into the back of an old ambulance, along with the Outsider, and I had just enough time to write down the numberplate before the vehicle drove off.
One of the really rotten things about being sixteen is you’re not allowed to drive a car. We’d come to the party in Sis’s pink car, but I can’t drive it, so I had to take the tube home. In my Catwoman costume. I hated it. Smart-alec comments were being handed around like, ‘is she real?’ (No, I’m an illusion. Honestly! Don’t these people think I have ears?). I think jumping on the train might have made them wonder, but still, even I have feelings. Just because I don’t care how I look doesn’t mean I don’t care how people look at me.
I got home feeling rather unhappy. Unfortunately I haven’t been able to break into the police car registration database yet, so I couldn’t use the information I had. I pulled off the Catwoman cowl, took off my boots, and sighed.
“Meow?” Samantha looked up at me. I smiled.
“Yeah. Sis got captured...”
Then I had a thought. I picked up the ‘phone and dialled one of the numbers in the memory.
The ‘phone rang on the other end. I hoped someone was in. Then the telephone was picked up.
“Hello, Ms. Madison...”
“Hi! It’s Scruff!”
“Does your sister want to date the Green Man again?” Ms. Madison asked suspiciously. That's the trouble with calling your sister's boyfriend's secretary.
“No! She’s been captured, and I kind of need help to find her. Could you please come over here?”
“Scruff! You’re worried!”
“I am,” I confessed. “She’s the only family I’ve got left! I can’t lose her too!”
“You’re right, Scruff. I’ll be over as soon as I’ve done my hair.”
I thought of several things to say to her, but I decided not to say any of them. I guess it’s her business what she looks like.
I just hoped she could help me find Sis.

The Outsider Test, 8. Fighting for the Outsider.

I saw five men struggling with the Outsider. Their intention was obvious - to capture her. I shouted a warning to Scruff to stay put and, acting on instinct, I threw myself into the struggle, hands and feet dealing out blows. So I was out numbered and surrounded by men taller than I was (I'd be worried if they weren't!), the Outsider was in trouble, and I had to help her.
I made a mistake. I should have thought before I hurled myself into the fight. I ought to have sized up the opposition, and worked out just how good they were likely to be. Instead I just assumed my training would be sufficient to defeat them.
Instead I found I was battling experts. I had intended just to be dealing out blows, instead I was recieving them. Now I was annoyed at my choice of a fancy-dress costume. I'd thought it would look cute to go in a pink version of my usual costume. It did, but I'd left off one thing - my equipment belt. That contained all sorts of things that might have helped me. But of course, I'd left it at home.
A strong hand tore the whip from my grasp, and then a fist slammed into my jaw. I fought back, of course, but the men seemed pretty expert too, blocking my blows. With a jolt I realised they were not what they seemed. Their faces were hidden from sight, behind hat-brims and scarfs, but they were not ordinary London toughs. I can beat them. These men were trained in the martial arts.
Someone brought a Karate-chop down hard on the back of my head, and I staggered back. But I wasn't beaten yet. I struck out, hitting another man in the groin with one small foot. Apparently they hadn't been expecting that, as the man folded up with a cry of pain.
I hit the man who held me in the stomach and, free, I turned to face them.
"Okay, a fair fight!"
"No!"

I looked round. There was another of the men, but he held a small pistol in one hand. His other arm was about the Outsider's neck, and he had the gun held to her head. She did not look happy. Not that I know how a swirling smoke-like figure whose only features are two glowing red eyes can look happy, but I'm sure she can.
In the grip of this large man the Outsider looked very small. Sinister too, but small. One smoke-like hand gripped the arm that was about her throat.
"Stop it, or she dies," the man wasn't local, but I couldn't place his accent. I relaxed my body, standing in the street, unarmed.
"I'm afraid he means it," the Outsider confirmed, sounding a whole lot less than happy. I got the feeling she knew very well who these people were, and why they wanted her.
"Okay, I surrender," I sighed. Just don't...
Then something very heavy hit me on the back of the head, and I fell forward into darkness.
We were prisoners!

Next: Scruff takes a hand!

The Outsider Test, 7. Meeting the Outsider!

I ran after the Outsider, through the kitchens, headed for the rear exit. She was fast, but for once I was chasing someone smaller than I am, and I was gaining slowly. She threw open a door and ran through. I followed. I found myself in a dark, rather spooky alley behind the building.
Then I saw the Outsider's glowing red eyes. She was standing still now, and I ran up to her, whip in hand.
She was still just a swirling, indistinct shape, a little under five feet tall.
"I served justice on him," the Outsider told me, her voice definite. I saw a movement in her swirling shape.
"Outsider, if you're really serving justice, we're on the same side."
"If you are the Girl in Grey, I agree with you," the Outsider replied. "But right now I have a crossbow pointed at your heart."
She was one suspicious girl, I told myself. Did she have a good reason to be?
What was more, from the way she spoke, it sounded like she was pretty normal in some respects - a word I don't use lightly when I'm talking about a four foot ten column of shifting smoke with glowing red eyes who carried an arsenal containing at least a crossbow and a sword.
"I don't want to hurt you," I reassured her.
She seemed to be into dealing with blackmailers. I wondered why. Had some blackmailer harmed her or her family in the past? I liked the idea, but we were hardly past the introductions stage.
"Will we meet again?" I asked.
"We will. For now, I must go!"
The smoke swirled, and it seemed to disperse. Then she was gone, vanished into thin air.
"Sis!" Scruff ran out to join me. I shook my head.
"She's gone, vanished like she was never there to begin with."
"What is she?
"The Outsider. But... I get the feeling that, inside that swirling black cloud of smoke, there's a girl..."
Suddenly a child's laugh broke in on us. I felt something move past me. Could it be the Outsider, invisible?
"What?!" Scruff exclaimed.
"The Outsider. She's gone. But I have a feeling we'll meet again."
Next time, I thought, I was going to be ready for her.
Then I heard a scream. At once I dashed out into the street.
I saw four men in suits and hats, faces concealed by the collars of their raincoats.
And they were struggling with the Outsider!

The Outsider Test, 6. The Outsider strikes!

The Outsider's sinister laugh echoed through the ballroom. The sounds of revelry stopped, and the partygoers stared at the spectral figure in the balcony. I quickly snatched my whip from Scruff's belt.
"What is it?" she called.
"The Outsider." I moved quickly towards Barnard. Scruff followed me, despite my orders. Teenage sisters...
Barnard stared up at the gallery. The Outsider stood there, motionless apart from the slow swirling of her semi-transparent form.
"What's going on?" he demanded.
"Justice!"
Suddenly the Outsider moved. She shot forward into space, a cloak billowing out behind her. There were gasps of astonishment and cries of fear.
I just wanted to get between her and Barnard. If there was another, scarier female crime-fighter cutting in on my territory, I wanted to teach her she couldn't ignore me.
The Outsider landed on the dance-floor. She seemed to glide forward, towards Barnard. Quickly I stepped in between them.
"Stop!"
"Who are you?" the Outsider demanded, menace in her voice.
"They call me the Girl in Grey. I agree Barnard's a crook, but..."
"You're wearing pink."
"It's a fancy-dress party. You're supposed to dress up. Are you going to kill him?"
"Of course. Vengeance does not sleep, Girl in Grey. We are on the same side."
"You can't kill him here!" Scruff objected. "What about the dance floor? Blood would ruin it!"
"And you are?" The Outsider asked her. I shot Scruff a warning look.
"I'm Catwoman! Honestly, Sis, no-one knows what this costume is!"
"I think she meant your REAL identity," I pointed out.
"Oh. I'm not telling!"
"She's my assistant," I said.
Barnard suddenly turned and ran for the door. The Outsider moved, and Barnard fell with a cry of pain, a crossbow bolt sticking out of his right leg.
"And now, Jason Barnard, justice will be served."
The Outsider pushed me to one side. I was surprised at her strength, and I went sprawling on the dance floor.
"Hey!"
The Outsider pushed Scruff aside just as easily. With Scruff's costume that meant she ended up with her skirt somewhere around her thighs.
"And now, Jason Barnard..."
The Outsider struck. Barnard's head was severed from his body, and the Outsider flitted towards the door.
I scrambled to my feet and ran after her.
This time I was going to get an answer.

The Outsider Test, 5. Fancy Dress

I'm not much of a party goer really. When I was at university I went to parties, and I'd normally be the dull girl in glasses who hung around trying to have a meaningful conversation. I don't need glasses, but I wore them to keep off the sort of dull sports-team captains who seemed to enjoy making passes at me.
But I like fancy dress parties. Having changed I breezed into Scruff's room and whirled in my costume.

"Like it?"
Scruff laughed.
"You're.. you're YOU, but in pink!"
"I can't deny it, Scruff," I laughed. "I'm me, in pink!" I whirled again. "It's to confuse the enemy."
"Who are?"
"Scruff! Jason Barnard's the enemy!"
"Not the Outsider?"
"Well, maybe her as well. Anyhow, it's to confuse them."
"And my costume?" She stretched and yawned again. I suspect she didn't go to bed when I told her to.


"It's sort of matching."
"I'm Catwoman?"
"You're Catwoman."
"But I thought Catwoman wore a black leather outfit a bit like yours, this thing has a skirt."
"You're 1950s Catwoman, Scruff. Retro."
Scruff did not look convinced.
At least I'd got her into a dress. I haven't seen Scruff in one of those since we were kids. She hadn't finished dressing, of course - she still had her boots, cape and belt to put on. Not to mention my whip (I had to get it into the party somehow).
We looked pretty stunning, I thought. Once Scruff had finished dressing we went out to my little pink sports car (grey would be suspicious) and headed off to the party.
Barnard hadn't spared any expense. I wondered how many of his victims had paid through the nose for the lavish party. It was crowded with wealthy guests, women dripping with jewels (and not wearing very much other than those jewels. Some people think a fancy dress party is just an excuse to take off most of their clothes).
I'd even managed to persuade Scruff to brush her hair (okay, I brushed it for her), and we looked quite a pair. We were probably the most modestly-dressed people there.
Jason Barnard, stripped to the waist as usual, was the centre of attention. Dressed as a pirate (fitting, in my opinion), he was building a champagne-fountain. Silly people were standing about and chattering.
"Circulate," I told Scruff. "I'll try to get close to Barnard."
"Don't you want me to do that?"
"Certainly not. My costume's got fewer things he could grab if I wanted to retreat."
"Welcome!" Barnard cried. He was a tall, flashily-handsome man. The sort too many girls go for. Not me. He disgusted me.
Suddenly a little girl's laugh sounded through the hall. I looked up, towards the gallery.
There I saw two red eyes.
"London Bridge is falling down, falling down, London Bridge is falling down, my fair lady..." The Outsider began to chant.
I had been right!

The Outsider Test, 4. Invitation to a murder.

I left Scruff using some of the skills she had learned in that expensive private school - searching the internet for mention of the Outsider - while I went to get ready for bed. Even us crime-fighters have to sleep sometimes.
I stroked Samantha, my head cat and favourite side-kick.
"Purr-row!" she said.
"Same to you, Sam. I hope you like Scruff. She's a wonderful person really."
"Sis!" Scruff called. I wondered what she'd found. I ran into the living-room.
"What did you find?"
"This. It's to do with the death of Mrs. Crowle, the blackmailer."
I looked at the screen and gasped.

It was definitely the Outsider. There was only one person in the whole world who looked like that. And according to the report Mrs. Crowle had been hanged.
Another blackmailer. That sounded like a clue.
"I don't think the Outsider likes blackmailers," Scruff said.
"I don't think she does. Well, tonight we'll get some rest. To-morrow we can find her next target."
"Aren't you going out to a party?"
"Jason Barnard's fancy-dress party? Of course. Would you like to come too?"
"Me?" Scruff sounded surprised - I don't normally have her come to parties with me, since most parties I go to have a rather strict dress code.
"Well, at a fancy-dress party I can have some control over what you wear," I cracked. "I'll get your costume to-morrow."
"But the Outsider..."
"Scruff, the only reason I agreed to go to Jason Barnard's party is that he happens to be the biggest society blackmailer in London. Jason Barnard's got roving eyes - and roving hands."
"If the Outsider decides to gatecrash the party, he'll have a roving head," Scruff offered her opinion.
"Another reason to go to the party. Now, BED."
"Sis..." Scruff began.
"This is my flat, and we have work to do to-morrow."
We went off to bed. I slept fitfully, dreaming of a swirling, smokey figure with glowing red eyes. And murder.
It would be a VERY interesting party.

The Outsider Test, 3. Conference with Scruff

Back in my ordinary clothes (Jeans and sweater, since you asked), I pushed open the door of my cosy little flat and went in, glad of the refuge the place provides for me.
"What happened?"
Scruff, my sixteen-year-old sister, stretched and yawned. She had been lying on the sofa with four of my cats, watching television.
"Lamont's dead."
"What did you kill him with?" was her immediate response. Like I said, she's my sister, and she knows me very well.
"I didn't. That's the worrying thing. I was outside on the fire-escape when someone else visited vengeance on him. He was beheaded in front of me."
"Wow!" Scruff jumped to her feet. "Was it the Green Man?" I saw the look in her eyes and smiled. Scruff's acted as chaperone for a couple of my dates with him - the ones where they'd let a teenager with masses of untidy black hair and dressed in baggy sweater and trousers into the restaurant. For the posh places we have to rely on Ms Madison. Sometimes we get both, which is great fun. Scruff enjoys needling Ms Madison. I shook my head.
"I wish it had been - then we could have gone to a nice bar I know in the area, and Ms Madison would never have known. No. this was someone who sounded like a little girl, but she looked..." I searched for the right words. "She looked like a ghost, a swirling black shape, like smoke. She's calling herself 'The Outsider', and she's pretty scary. You know, laughing, chanting nuresery rhymes. Oh, and she has glowing red eyes."
"The Outsider? And she beheaded Lamont?" Scruff was clearly fascinated. She's adjusting fairly well to my lifestyle. But then, she did go to a girls-only boarding school.
"Yes. I didn't see what with, but she killed him."
"So what now?"
"We have to find the Outsider. If she's on our side we'll benefit from knowing each other - that way we won't be treading on each other's toes on a daily basis. If she's not on our side, but she's really an assassin hired by one of Lamont's enemies, we have to stop her before she can kill someone who isn't such a vile villain as Lamont was."
"You're just curious," Scruff told me. I laughed.
"I can't keep anything from you, can I? Yes, I'm curious. But after all, I do dress like a cat!"
"Well, don't get killed," Scruff warned me. "You're the last family I've got in this country, and I don't want to be an American."
"I don't want to be dead just yet, so you've got a deal."
And so we began our quest to find the mysterious spectral figure that was
THE OUTSIDER.

The Outsider Test, 2. The Outsider Strikes!

I stared in amazement at the spectral figure that stood there. I realised the childish voice was coming from it. This was something outside even MY experience!
"What are you?" Lamont asked, quaking in his boots.
Again that erries child's laugh echoed through the room.
"Here comes a candle to light you to bed," the thing chanted. "And here comes a chopper to... chop... off... your... head."
"What is it?" Felicity screamed hysterically.
"It looks - and sounds - like a ghost!" Lamont was trying to stay calm. In my opinion he wasn't succeeding. Actually I was having trouble keeping calm too. The glowing red eyes the ghost had were hardly calculated to calm a girl down.
"I'm the Outsider," the ghost laughed. "And you're a criminal, Lambert Lamont. It's my duty to show you that crime doesn't pay."
"You..."
"London Bridge is falling down, falling down..." the Outsider began to chant another nursery rhyme. As a scare tactic it seemed to work wonderfully. Both Lamont and Felicity were scared stiff, and I wasn't exactly calm either.
"Make it go away!" Felicity pleaded. "Make it go away!"
"Felicity Crewe, go!"
Felicity fled in stark terror. I remained to watch.
It seemed someone else had got to Lambert Lamont first, and I could do nothing but watch from the window.
After all, I was going to visit vengeance on him, and it seemed the Outsider had the same motive.
"What do you want with me?" Lamont demanded. The Outsider drifted across the floor to where he stood. I realised she (going by her voice) was only small. Smaller than I am. That fitted the child's voice.
"I want YOU." she said. Then she laughed again.
"Here comes a candle to light you to bed..."
"What?"
"And here comes a chopper to... chop... off... your... head."
The Outsider laughed. Then the lights went off again. All I could see were the glowing red eyes of the Outsider. Lamont screamed. Then his scream was suddenly silenced.
The red eyes vanished and I heard the door open. Quickly I threw up the sash and jumped in, pulling my torch from my belt and turning it on.
The Outsider was gone. But Lamont was still here. I only had to look at him to know he was dead.
After all, I don't know of anyone who can survive having their head separated from their body.

The Outsider Test, 1. The Spectre in Spitalfields.

London is my home. I like it. Where I live is rather Bohemian, lots of artists, little cafes, that sort of thing. But London, like any big city, attracts criminals. Some are little petty crooks, driven by a desire for drugs, or alcohol - or just some sort of authority and power. But others are big crooks, men and women who think in millions.
Lambert Lamont was one of them. A blackmailer who specialised in the daughters of millionaires and had driven at least five girls to suicide. I don't recommend suicide. It doesn't solve anything. Strangling the blackmailer with a nice sturdy stocking, on the other hand, works wonders. Or so Mrs. Arcos tells me.
Still, I was stalking Lambert Lamont.
The trail had led me to London's East End, and to the rabbit-warren of houses that is Spitalfields. Once the homes of Huguenots, French protestant refugees driven from their homes by an intolerant king, then the residence of persecuted Jews, now there are many Muslims in the area. I passed a woman in a full-face veil in the darkness. She did not notice my grey form in the fog that had come off the river.
All the better for me. In fog I'm almost invisible.
I moved quickly and silently through he narrow street between tall houses that had once been a whole lot more respectable than they are these days. Lamont was ahead of me.
I drew my whip from my belt and caugt a fire-escape with it. Quickly I climbed the sturdy leather.
And then I was outside Lamont's window.
Looking in, I saw the greedy blackmailer, a tall, handsome man who wore an Italian suit. He was pacing the room, an evil smile on his face. The other person in the room was a girl. I recognised her as Felicity Crewe, a noted society air-head who I'm glad to say is only a self-inflicted blonde.
"Lambert!" she sobbed. "I thought you loved me!"
"Don't be a bigger fool than you already are, Felicity! I care nothing for you. Just for money. Now, if you pay what I ask I won't tell that idiot footballer you married that I've been having an affair with you. But if you don't..."
Suddenly the lights went out. Felicity screamed, and Lamont yelled.
"What's going on?"
I heard a little girl's voice begin to speak.
"Ding dong bell, pussy's in the well..."
"Felicity!"
"It's not me, Lamont!" Felicity sounded terrified.
The little girl voice began to laugh.
"Lambert Lamont! You've ruined many girls..."
"I got the light!" Felicity cried. She flicked the switch.
The room was illuminated again. The speaker was revealed.
All any of us could see was a swirling, smoke-like figure with a pair of glowing red eyes.
Felicity and Lamont both screamed.