Evolve or Die! 22.

Professor Coral Williams, Richard Dawkins fan and evolution-nut was Toxic, the mysterious killer of drug-users. Everything suddenly made a very nasty sort of sense. Coral was an evolution nut. I suddenly remembered something she'd said,

"We have practically destroyed evolutionary pressure. For centuries, intead of allowing the weak and the unfit to die, we have preserved their lives. Thankfully now modern reproductive science has allowed us to practically eliminate certain unfitnesses such as Down's Syndrome and the cleft pallette, but still some families choose to have children with genetic disorders born, and they keep those children alive! It is an offence..."

Coral wanted to give evolution a helping hand, engage in her own eugenics programme by killing off those she thought of as 'unfit', beginning with drug-users.
"Coral, you can't..."
"I have to, Diana. You don't understand. You're too compassionate. These people have to die, for the good of the human race. Think of it, these drug-users, addicts, abusing their own bodies, passing on mutations they've induced in their own bodies to their children. If we elimiate all of them, then humanity will be so much better-off."
"They're human beings!"
"And what are human beings? Simply highly-evolved apes! Don't you see, Diana, if these people die, if evolutionary pressure is scientifically applied by a catalyst such as me, the race will begin evolving again. Imagine it! I'm helping mankind!"
"You're murdering thousands of people!"
"I'm eliminating genetically unfit material! I'm doing good! But you're too blind to see it! Or are you like that silly friend of yours, Jame Hill! She doesn't even believe in evolution! She's so decieved by her religion. But I know the truth. There is no God up there, watching over us. We have to control our own destiny, move forward to higher things. We shall see the triumph of evolution! I shall help to bring it about! I am the servant of nature, the catalyst of the development of humanity!"
She was completely insane, I realised. That made her incredibly dangerous. She believed that she was working for the good of humanity. She wasn't the sort of criminal I was used to (even though some of the people I've dealt with before have been insane). She thought she was working for good. In her eyes those who tried to care for the sick were the criminals. She was the hero, bringing her own brand of social Darwinism to London.
And I had to stop her. It was not a nice thought.

Evolve or Die! 21.

[Girl in Grey back]
I hung on tight as the car sped through London. Being a Londoner myself, I recognised the route to Canning Town, and I didn't like it at all. Well, you try going anywhere on the back of a car and see how you like it. Especially the distance between Kensington and Canning Town. I don't have to say I was grateful for my hard-wearing costume! I mean, I'm used to travelling in unusual positions, but the back of a car's murder on the clothes!
We arrived at a derelict mansion, and I slipped off before the car stopped, hiding myself in the junkyard that surrounded the mansion. I could see that it had been an impressive building once, set in its own grounds. Those grounds were almost totally eaten up by light industrial units now, and the house was abandoned.
Or it SEEMED abandoned. It was exactly the sort of place a super-villain might use as a base. Had I been taken to Toxic?
Why had Diana been kidnapped, not killed? Toxic wasn't exactly shy about killing, after all, so there had to be a reason. I just didn't know what it was. After all, Diana didn't have any scierntific skills that Toxic might need, no secrets, except that of Toxic's identity.
Not that I wasn't glad Toxic hadn't killed Diana. I'm rather fond of Diana, and I was partly to blame for her getting kidnapped like this.
I moved silently among the rusting wrecks of cars that surrounded the old mansion, looking for a way in. There had to be one, I reasoned. A window where the boards had come loose, or a door. I could see the 'unsafe structure, keep out' signs on the mansion's doors and windows, but I also saw the front door opened and Diana dragged inside. If it was safe enough for the usual London thugs who used to be boxers (apparently boxing didn't keep THEM out of crime), it was safe for my svelte form.
The boards on the windows did mean no-one saw me creeping through the wrecks in the scrapyard around the mansion, and at last I reached a door. It was padlocked, but locks are simple things for me, and I had it open in seconds. I slipped inside, into a world of semi-darkness, a world where I smelled rotting wood, where wallpaper was peeling from walls. It had once been a grand house, now it was falling into ruin.
I moved silently, cautiously, keeping all my senses alert. At last I found myself crouching behind a door that was ajar. It led into one of the grand rooms of the old mansion, and I could hear a conversation inside.
"Toxic!" Diana exclaimed.
I was right!
"Yes," a woman's voice purred. "Toxic. You're very clever, Diana Dickson, but not clever enough."
I recognised the voice! It was Coral Williams!
Coral Williams was Toxic! Suddenly everything made sense!

Evolve or Die! 20.

[Scruff here]
With Sis having jumped on the back of a car as it sped off, Emily and I were left with a crook on our hands. I had quickly shed my sweater and trousers (baggy clothes are so useful) and was now in my Robin costume (anyone think I should wear something else? Suggestions welcome. But rude ones will result in my hacking your computer). The crook was shaking like jelly. Not because of me (fat chance), but because of Emily, who was visible in all her black smokiness.
"So, you kidnapped Diana Dickson," I said in my most threatening tones (I'm not that threatening. Maybe I should have chosen a more threatening costume). "We know Toxic hired you, because Diana found out who Toxic is."
"That means he doesn't know who Toxic is," Emily pointed out. "Otherwise he'd be dead by now. What do we do with him?"
"We can't interrogate him in the middle of Kensington High Street," I pointed out. "I'll get the car and we'll take him to an old warehouse."
"Okay, Robin, but be careful."
"Like I'm ever anything else!"
I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, 'Scruff's sixteen, she's not allowed to drive'. Yeah, I know, but the Girl in Grey isn't exactly legal either. We're vigilantes, and last time I looked there was a law against that.
So I sprinted back to the car, got in and drove off. The thug was too terrified of the Outsider to be any trouble. I just handcuffed and blindfolded him, and drove off.
I had no idea what I was doing, but I hoped Emily would know what to do. I mean, she was trained to be some sort of creepy supernatural assassin or something like that, so I figured she'd know how to get information out of a man.
I know places where no-one's going to look. If you know where to find them, London's got a lot of really nice derelict buildings where you can question a man. Not that I'm into that sort of thing, but with tens of thousands of people at risk, I was willing to let Emily do whatever she did.
We drove to the old derelict warehouse, and we got the terrified thug inside. In the darkness, Emily's glowing red eyes looked even scarier. I took the man's blindfold off, and he faced the Outsider.
"No!!!" he screamed. "I'll tell you everything! Just don't hurt me! I can stand anything but pain!"
World's shortest interrogation, I thought to myself. Sis was right, crooks are a cowardly lot. Mind you, I don't like the idea of being hurt either, so maybe he was just sensible.
"Then spill," I drawled in my best gangster-type accent. The crook looked confused.
"Just talk," I explained.
"All right! Toxic said to get the girl and take her to a derelict house in Canning Town! Said the girl knows too much and has to be kept out of the way. That's all I know, I swear!"
As I've kind of cleaned up his words to write them here, I was well aware that he swore. Often and explicitly.
"Didn't your mother tell you not to use nasty words?" Emily asked him. He went even whiter than he already was, something I hadn't thought he could do.
"House name?" I asked.
"Ivydene Lodge..."
"Thanks. We'll be back," I told him. We left him in the derelict warehouse. Well, it was all I could think of.

Evolve or Die! 19.

I sprang from the table at once and ran to the exit. Scruff followed, and I assumed Emily did too (her being invisible meant it was hard to tell).
I dashed down the stairs and out into the street, not caring what people thought. My friend was in trouble, and only I could help her. It's times like these I wish I had Supergirl's powers. They'd be so handy. Or maybe the Flash's powers...
Dream on! I'm not the fastest girl alive, and I can't defy the laws of physics. I am pretty athletic, though, so I made good time. Scruff sprinted after me.
We ran towards the Natural History Museum, feet pounding on the pavement. I wished I could change into my Girl in Grey costume, but this was way too public for that. I had to rely on The Outsider's skills to do the scary stuff.
Then I saw it. Diana being stuffed into a car by a group of armed men.
Guns. Too many guns. And I was unarmed. I stopped dead as a gun was pointed right at me.
"So, you're the friend she was 'phoning?" the masked gunman mocked. "Shame you can't help. But be glad we silenced her when we did - otherwise you'd be gettin' silednced - for good."
Did I say I hate guns. They're for cowards. Anyone can hide behind a pistol, pretend to be brave. Now a sword takes skill. Unarmed combat's an art. A gun? Most of these thugs don't even know how to aim one. But this man didn't need to, not at this range. He just had to point the gun at me, and if it didn't kill, it'd maim. Nasty, nasty thing.
There was a time all the amateurs went for headshots. That was quite funny, because the head's a small target and easiuly moved. I suppose it was some movie they'd all seen. Now they were back to body shots. And, despite our gun laws, it seemed every cheap thug in London had a gun.
"No!"
The thug looked around at the sound of Emily's sinister voice. I seized my chance - and the man's gun. Using my own knowledge of unarmed combat techniques, I tore the sweapon from his hand, ejected the magazine, and threw both gun and magazine away.
Now the crook looked scared. Scared of me, because he had no gun, and I knew how to defeat him.
The car roared away. I let go of the crook and hurled myself after the vehicle in a desperate attempt to help my friend.
Somehow I caught the rear bumper and hung on for dear life. Thankfully I had my Girl in Grey costume on under my clothes.
Diana knew who Toxic was. That meant she was in serious danger. It also meant I had to save my friend, find Toxic, defeat the criminal mastermind, and save London from tens of thousands of deaths.
Good thing I'd started early and had a good breakfast.

Evolve or Die! 18.

We arrived at Marks and Spencer in Kensington High Street ten minutes ahead of time. Scruff doesn't do any preening at all (you might have noticed), and I dress simply as well. I parked the faithful grey Jag safely and set the electric security device to deliver nasty shocks to would-be thieves. Emily, now totally invisible, followed us.
I like Marks and Spencer. When I was a student, I had a job there (not the one in Kensington), and I rather enjoyed it. Some of the things they sell are another matter, of course...
Taking Scruff into a smart clothing store is rather amusing. well-dressed people give her funny looks. And I don't just mean old people. I mean everyone. Scruff, of course, doesn't care, though she stuck her tongue out at a couple of people who stared at her.
We sat down in the cafe. Emily sat next to me, and Scruff sat opposite. She lay back in her chair and smiled.
"So, what do you think?"
"No idea, I'm afraid," I replied. "Diana's working at the Natural History Museum, and there's a lot of people on the staff there."
"Do you think one of them could be Toxic?" Scruff leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. The sleeves of her baggy sweater slipped down.
"Could be. But why? You know as well as I do that even the most insane serial killers have a motive. There's no such thing as a motiveless killing."
"I know that, sis - you taught me that. Gosh, before I thought there was."
"It all depends on how you define motive," I pointed out. "For example, there was one case where a councillor was killed walking down Hammersmith High Street. The police were baffled, he was popular, a good man. I discovered that the killing had been an initiation test for entry to the Guild of Assassins. In other words, the motive was nothing to do with the selected victim. But there was still a motive."
"You're a pretty good detective."
"I know. I just wish they wouldn't call me 'The World's Cutest Detective', it sounds... well, like I'm not very good at the detective part."
"That's a lie." Scruff looked at the clock. "Diana's late."
I looked too. She was. Five minutes late.
"It's probably nothing," I said.
But ten minutes passed. Suddenly my 'phone rang. I answered it in a flash. It was Diana.
"Jane!" she cried. "I'm in trouble! It's Toxic! I found..."
Then she was silenced.
Diana was in serious trouble!

Evolve or Die! 17.

I got up some time after ten to find Scruff and Emily (Scruff still in her pyjamas) sitting on the sofa watching morning television together while Emily polished her sword.
"Anything about 'Spiv' yet?" I asked. Scruff shook her head.
"No. I think it's being covered up, same as all these deaths of drug addicts. I bet the police haven't a clue what's going on, and it terrifies them."
"I bet you're right," I replied. I was going to go and take my morning shower when the 'phone rang. I picked it up.
"Hello, Jane Hill speaking."
"Jane! It's Diana!"
Diana Dickson, my old friend from university!
"Diana! Hi! How's things?"
"Jane, I can't talk now. I need to see you as soon as possible. I'm in the Natural History Museum..."
"One hour, in the Cafe at Marks and Spencer, Kensington High Street," I suggested. "I'll bring Scruff along too."
"Of course! she lives with you now!"
"She does. I rather like our arrangement. Well, most of the time."
"Hey, Scruff's a nice person, Jane. I like her."
"Thankfully, so do I. Okay, Diana, Marks and Spencer, in an hour. 'Bye!"
"'Bye!" she cried cheerily. I put down the 'phone.
I was worried, and so was Diana. Something scared her, and she wanted to talk to me about it. Most people, who think of Jane Hill as a quiet, but ultimately rather dull heiress, would be surprised to hear Diana ask ME for help. But I've been up the Amazin with Diana, and I saved her life twice then. She knows I'm smart, fast and athletic, and that I can be relied on to keep a secret. She DOESN'T know I'm the Girl in Grey, but that's a good thing.
"Sis?" Scruff asked.
"Diana Dickson. She's in trouble. She knows something she can't talk about over the 'phone. Get dressed, we'll be meeting her in Kensington..."
"I heard that bit. How about Emily?"
"Good point. Emily, will you come with us? Stay invisible and act as a bodyguard."
"Okay," she agreed, red eyes gleaming.
I wondered what it was Diana had discovered, and I hoped she would be able to tell me.

Evolve or Die! 16.

"The water supply!" Scruff gasped in horror. I nodded.
"Of course. How else do you ensure every drug user in London gets the second half of the poison? It'll be harmless to everyone else - and according to the Sparrow that part of the poison passes through the body in a matter of days if it doesn't react with the first part. Gosh, it's so simple - and so utterly devastating."
"But that doesn't make sense. I mean, who'd pay to save the lives of thousands of drug-users?"
"You're assuming this criminal's after money, Scruff."
"You don't think Toxic is?"
"No. The plan's all wrong for that. See, it must have cost millions to buy the drug shipments, doctor them, then sell them cheaply. Now, why such an expensive plan when there are dozens of cheaper methods of extortion? Besides, once the threat was made it would be all but impossible to get into the water treatment works and introduce the second half of the poison to the water supply."
"So you think this is just murder on a massive scale? But why?"
"Jack the Ripper targetted prostitutes. Toxic targets drug users. There's a definite method to this madness - there always is in true cases of criminal insanity."
"So what do we do? Watch the water treatment works?"
"We go to bed. I don't think Toxic's ready to move yet."
"Why not?"
"Why kill witnesses if the plan was going forward tonight? If the second chemical was about to be added, Toxic wouldn't bother about killing off cogs in the plan. The very fact that Toxic still cares about what these people might say means we still have a chance."
"Why didn't you say 'him' and 'he'?"
"Because for all we knows, Toxic could be a woman, and I want to keep my options open," I answered. "Now, I need my beuty sleep, and you need to sleep as well."
We went off to rest, not knowing what the next day would bring. It was probably just as well.

Evolve or Die! 15.

We faced no resistance from 'Spiv's' men. They were too shocked by the death of their leader. As for me, I was glad to have a name for the mysterious killer - even if it was a code-name. It was more than the Sparrow had from her high-tech methods. Which goes to show that old-fashioned detective work can still pay off.
We got home after midnight. I was exhausted, and so was Scruff. She just took off her cape. mask, gloves, boots and belt and crashed on the sofa in her Robin costume. I got as far as my bedroom before collapsing on the bed in an untidy heap. Late night work can take a lot out of a girl, especially seeing two men murdered in front of you in one of the nastiest ways I know of.
We had to get a sample of the contaminated drugs, I thought. Find out where it was coming from, find Toxic and shut down the operation.
But who was Toxic? Not an ordinary drug-runner, that was for sure. Too many different drugs. Yet Toxic was channelling them through the usual underworld drug-dealers. If 'Spiv' was dead, that meant he was expendable. Toxic had another man unknowingly feeding hidden death to dug- addicts. Don't get me wrong, I'm opposed to drugs as much as (and probably more than) the police. But killing drug addicts, particularly the way Toxic did it, is NEVER right.
I knew why Toxic was using the two-part poison. The addicts would change their suppliers pretty quickly if users started dropping dead. But this way thousands of people, not just hardcore addicts but students, office workers, clubbers, people who experimented then never took anything again, would be in danger. Then the second part wsould be administered. But how? If by mixing it with the drugs, then people could and would switch. So how?

I heard a tap that Scruff had not turned off properly dripping. Why, I thought as I got up, do sounds like dripping taps sound so much louder when you're trying to get to sleep?
"Scruff!" I called as I went back into the living-room. She groaned.
"Sis? It's really late and I'm tired."
"You left the tap dripping. Do you know how much water...?" I paused. It was as if a lightbulb had gone on. You know, like those old cartoons.
"Sis?"
"Water!" I cried in horror. "That's how Toxic's going to administer the other half of the poison - through the water supply!"

Evolve or Die! 14.

I raised my hands and sighed.
"All right, I surrender." I said. My belt was swiftly taken off, and I was roughly manhandled down the stairs to where a very annoyed Scruff was waiting, also captive, and without her belt. She was struggling in the grip of a large ape-like thug (I think villains have a secret captive breeding programme for them).
"Robin!" I cried. Scruff stopped struggling.
"Grey! What happened?"
"Bloke pushed a gun in my back, I decided to surrender."
"Same thing happened to me, but I'm the sidekick. I'm allowed to be captured. You're supposed to be too clever for that..."
"So sue me," I answered. "Even Batman gets captured. And at least I get hit over the head less often."
"Yes," Scruff smiled. " That's one good thing. You know, I guess all those superheroes who get hit on the head all the time do get.. less smart over time."
Funny, I thought. But when you're captured by a baddie, what can you do except joke about it?
"Ah! The Girl In Grey!"
We had company. A large, bald man who looked like Lex Luthor after eating about a ton of lard.
"Hi," I smiled. "This is Robin, my assistant. She does other superheroes if you ask nicely. And if the other heroes wear enough clothes. You're Spiv Barrick, I'd know that mug anywhere."
"And I'd know you, you cocky little girl! So, you're poking your nose in where it's not wanted again!"
"Sure. It's what I do. Like you sell drugs. I just came from one of your dealers who was murdered. Care to tell me why? What did he know that meant he had to die?"
"I'm asking the questions, girl!"
"That doesn't mean I can't ask something," I replied. "Spiv, junkies are dying in this city. YOU know something about it."
"Junkies die all the time."
"Not like this. These people have been deliberately poisoned with something that dissolves every blood-vessel in their bodies. It's disgusting and incredibly painful. There's something in the stuff they're taking - and your dealers are selling it."
'Spiv' looked at me in horror.
"No! It can't be!" I saw the blood drain from his face, and I knew.
"You take the stuff too, don't you?"
"Yes! I get it from..."
Something buzzed through the window and hit him. I knew what it was before I saw the feathers of the dart.
"Toxic!" Spiv gasped as the poison took effect. "buy it from... Toxic!"
blood bubbled in his throat, then he fell. We could do nothing for him. But we knew his killer was called Toxic.
A menacing name if ever there was one!

I am still alive

Contrary to a report that's circulating around the Thieves' Kitchens chain of underworld hang-outs, I haven't been killed by a super-villain, I'm just busy on my vacation with Scruff and Emily. So here's a little something from my inbox.

>Dear Friend,
>
> My name is Mr. Ming Yang, I work with the Hang Seng Bank of Hong Kong. I have a Business Proposal of Twenty-four million, five hundred thousand US dollars for you to handle with me from my bank i work with. Should you be interested, please send me your full names,private phone/fax number to email address (myhk_671@yahoo.com.hk) and finally after that I shall provide you
>with more details of this operation.
>
>Kind Regards,
>
>Mr. Ming Yang.

I replied:

Dear 'Mr. Ming Yang' (which name, combining as it does the names of two Chinese imperial dynasties is highly unlikely to be your real name)

Unfortunately for you, I was not born yesterday. You are a dirty crook attempting to rob me by suggesting that I participate in a slightly shady, if totally fictitious, deal that will be to my advantage. Should I take you up on this offer (which I will not, owing to my age being more than you anticipated), I would in fact find that the only money changing hands will be in the direction of me to you, under the rubric of 'bank charges'.

However, your scheme is doomed to failure, at least in my case, because:
1. I was not born yesterday (as detailed above)
2. I am well read in detective fiction, including the writings of Edgar Wallace and Leslie Charteris, both of whom used scams such as yours as plots for short stories.
3. I am aware that real bank officials do not send out e-mails to people of whom they have never heard requesting help in moving large amounts of money between continents.
4. Your name is an obvious phoney.
5. Your e-mail address is not a bank address at all.
6. The e-mail closely resembles some nine trillion and five that I have already recieved and dealt wsith in surprising ways.
7. I am in fact a costumed crime-fighter whose kid sidekick is a computer whizz and will be able to trace your e-mail back to you. Expect a visit from me very soon.

Yours Sincerely

The Girl in Grey

Horror in Hampstead - 2.

Child-molester Guy Winstead stared in abject terror at the weird black smoky form of the Outsider
"I..." he stammered. This wasn't the girl he'd contacted! "Where's Stephanie?"
"Silly!" the Outsider giggled. "You sent me a picture of you the way you looked years ago. I returned the favour,"
"No! You... You... You look..."
"That was me three years ago, Winstead, before I was transformed into The Outsider. Now this is me!"
Winstead looked down at the photograph of the happy, laughing, pretty redhead, then up at the Outsider's terrifying form. She was small, but she was inhuman, terrible, a dark avenger. EVen her tone was dark and dangerous.
"You abuse little girls, Guy Winstead. You're responsible for two suicides, one of a girl aged thirteen, one of a girl aged sixteen who'd lived with what you did to her for two years before it became too much for her."
"I..."
"Hannah Fairbairn was my cousin, Winstead. You destroyed her. And now I'm going to destroy you. Oh, I ought to introduce myself. You see, like you I used a false name on the chatroom. My name's Emily Fairbairn."
"But you're dead!"
"Am I? Look at me, Guy Winstead. LOOK AT ME!"
Winstead gibbered with fear. Emily laughed.
"What's the matter, Winstead, afraid of a little girl? I'm only thirteen. I thought you liked little girls like me! Or do you only like them when they're helpless in your control, when you can abuse them, hurt them, destroy them?"
He turned to run, but her crossbow-bolt caught him in the back of his right knee, and he fell to the ground screaming in agony. Terrified, he looked up as the Outsider moved forward over the grass.
"What's the matter? You can't face it like a man?" She tore off his tie and began to fashion it into a noose.
"Hannah hanged herself with her school tie. Now you're going to write a full confession and I'll hang you."
"I won't write..."
"Then I'll just hang you."
Gibbering with fear, Winstead wrote, while Emily formed the noose.
The next morning the police found Winstead's corpse hanging from a tree. They had been tipped off by the voice of a little girl on the telephone.

Horror in Hampstead -1

Guy Winstead liked little girls. And not in a nice way. He befriended them in internet chatrooms and lured them out to meet him so that he could abuse them. Yet he was also cunning. No-one knew that he, a respectable city businessman, was a secret child-abuser. He thought he was safe, that he was too clever for the police. A dozen little girls were afraid of him, and of other men. They'd lost their innocence early, and some were too terrified to leave the house. But Guy Winstead didn't care. He was happy, and that was all that mattered to the callous and evil man.
He had been speaking to the little girl called Stephanie for two months on the internet, and he had won her trust. He'd sent her a picture of him as a boy, and she'd sent a picture back. He looked at it. It showed a pretty girl with flame-red hair, a girl of about ten, barefoot, in a garden in India. She had just come back from there, her parents were missionaries. He'd pretended his father was a vicar, and she'd opened her heart to him.
Now he was waiting for her on ampstead Heath as the night fell, waiting to take her and abuse her.
Guy let the night fall as he fantasised about what he would do to this trusting little daughter of missionaries. He closed his eyes and laughed to himself as he dreamed up the most revolting thoughts. All of them involved the redheaded girl in the snapshot he held - and all of them would have got him sent to prison if he'd acted them out.

"Is Timmy Henderson around here?"
The abuser opened his eyes at the sound of the little girl's voice speaking the false name he'd given on the chatroom. It came from behind him.
"Yes," he turned.
The smile dropped from his face at once. What he faced was not the pretty redhead he had expected to see, but a weird black smoky figure the size and shape of a little girl. Its only discernable features were two red eyes that blazed like live coals in a black smoky face.
"Hello Guy Winstead," The Outsider said. " I am the Outsider, and this evening you're going to die"

Evolve or Die! 13.

I ran from where Mick was fast dying. Not that I'm callous, but there was no way I could keep him alive. I had to stop his killer. But how? The dart had been fired either from a blow-gun or, more likely, some sort of air-gun device. If the killer had used telescopic sights and a high-powered airgun, he might have been on a rooftop, far enough from the scene to have made good his escape before either Emily or Scruff could have reached him.
I rejoined them on a rooftop. They had found nothing.
"I got the name of his supplier," I told them. "It's 'Spiv' Barrick."
"West End mobster," Scruff supplied the information. "But he makes millions from drugs. Why would he poison his customers?"
"I have no idea," I confessed. "I just hope the mystery resolves itself as we follow the trail."
"Me too," Scruff agreed. "It's starting to give me a headache."
That's serious. Scruff's a genius, despite her appearance and normal behaviour, if something gives her a headache, then it's difficult.
We made our way to Barrick's penthouse headquaters at the top of a modern West End block. It was an impressive place - but I'm not easily impressed. Mind you, it was also pretty easy for the three of us to get onto the roof. Looked good, lousy security (as an American friend of mine says).
The drawing-room, with its ultra-modern glass roof, was easy to find, and it was easy for an invisible Emily to creep onto the roof and listen.
I could see from my place in the shadows that Barrick was there. He was speaking on the telephone, and one of my gadgets allowed me to hear every word.
"...Killed a dealer?" he was angry.
"What do you mean the Girl in Grey was trying to pump him for information? So you used that poison on him? Why did you kill the others?"
What I'd have given to hear the other side of the conversation!
"So they knew more than was good for them? Okay. How did they know?"
He was angry. That meant his partnership with the unknow wasn't an equal one. It was still dangerous!
Then I felt a revolver being pressed to the back of my head.
Maybe the security wasn't so bad after all.

Evolve or Die! 12.

The Grey Car's useful, but sometimes nothing beats running across the rooftops with the wind in your cowl. Emily's superhuman strength allowed her to keep up with me and Scruff (we're taller than her, you may have noticed). Part of me said this was silly. I was trying to fight crime in London with the help of my sixteen-year-old sister (dressed as Robin of Batman and...) and a thirteen-year-old girl who looks like a cloud of black smoke with glowing red eyes. It's not the sort of hobby you can talk about at parties, is it?
The rest of me was just loving it. The night, my city under threat. What was there not to enjoy?
I leaped from a rooftop and swung my whip. It caught, and I swung.
I landed in front of a seedy-looking man who gasped in horror at me appearance.
"Hello, Mick, long time no see," I said with a smile.
"The girl in Grey! You..."
"Oh, that's right, I got you sent to jail. Mick, you're out, and you're selling drugs. Now, there are drug-users dying in this city, and I need to know why."
"I don't..."
"I know. You use drugs yourself, and you sell to other users to get the money to support your own habit. Just think, YOU might have..."
Mick yelled in pain and clapped his hand to his cheek. It came away with a tiny blow-dart in it. I knew at once what had happened.
"Outsider! Robin! The killer's here!"
Mick gasped in pain. I wanted to help, to do something, but I had no idea what to do. No antidote, no way even to stop the poison's effects.
"Mick!" I cried. The drug-dealer gasped.
"I... I'm gonna die!"
"Yes, you're going to die. I'm sorry. But it proves the link. Who's your supplier!"
"'Spiv' Barrick!" Mick coughed up blood. "Oh my... I'm burning up!"
"I'm sorry! But you'll help us stop the killer. I swear I'll stop him!"
There was nothing I could do to save Mick's life, so I didn't even try. He'd been a good boy once, corrupted by a gang culture, hooked on drugs - and now this.
Whoever was behind this was going to pay!

Evolve or Die! 11.

"How was the Natural history Museum?" a rather bored-looking Emily asked as we entered the flat on our return.
"Full of weird people," Scruff replied. "We spoke with a lady who believed that human evolution had stopped and that was a bad thing."
"Weird people," Emily agreed. "You think I could scare them by turning up sometime and being black and smoky?"
"Yeah," Scruff grinned and went into the kitchen to fix herself something to eat."
"Right now we have more serious things to do," I said, going into my bedroom to change. Emily followed me. "That poison's being administered to drug addicts, and that means a drug dealer's involved. And not just a small street-level dealer, I mean one of the big boys, someone with plenty of little rats working under him. It means he could poison thousands of people, but there is one good thing about it - it'll make him easier to find. At least it will for the Girl in Grey." I took my costume out of my wardrobe. and held it up.
"I'll get some more crossbow bolts," Emily left me, and I smiled. It was good to see her so enthusiastic. She'd been fairly sulky in the morning, and I have NO idea how to handle a sulky teenage Outsider.
"Sis?" Scruff entered. I smiled at her.
"Hi. Has Alice found anything useful yet?"
"No," she replied. "Look, there's not a lot I can do here, and nothing I could do here that Alice isn't better at..."
"Then grab the Robin costume - or whatever costume you want to grab - and come on. We could do with your help on the streets."
"You mean it?"
"Of course! You're as useful at my side in a fight as you are with that laptop of yours - and I mean that."
"Great! I'll dress!"
"And get a list of the drug-dealers we know who operated in the areas the dead people lived in."
"Okay!" Scruff ran from the room. I smiled.
Alice may have her computer-brain, but I have my team, and sometimes a team is far better than one person -however good that person is.

Evolve or Die! 10.

We were in the Natural History Museum talking with a Professor Coral Williams, a rather flashy supporter of Richard Dawkins, and a Dr. Andrew Lansdale, an old friend of my Dad's and a biochemist. Coral called over a young woman in a better-looking (though cheaper) suit than hers.
"Cynthia, this is Jane Hill. She's a Christian."
"Really? Do you believe in evolution?"
"That we come from monkeys? Frankly, no. And I did a biology course at university, so I'm not ignorant. You see, I majored in genetics, and I could never find a source for the new genetic information necessary for Darwin's theory to be possible. Natural selection needs something to select, it can't create new information, it can only eliminate existing information. Random mutations aren't sufficient. And tell me, why isn't the human race evolving?"
"Like in 'X-Men'," Scruff added unnecessarily.
"Simple," Cynthia said. "We control our environment to a great extent. We can build cities in the deserts, transport water great distances, create climate-controlled environments. By technology we have overcome evolutionary pressures. Haven't we, Coral?"
"Exactly," Professor Williams nodded. "Oh, this is Cynthia Woodforde, one of my research assistants."
"I'm Scruff," Scruff introduced herself.
"You read comic books?"
"I'm sixteen! And you can learn a lot from comic books!"
Mercifully no-one asked what.
"It's a tragedy," Coral Williams said quietly. "We are the pinnacle of evolution so far, and we have ruined our future chances by our own errors!"
"What?" I asked.
"We have practically destroyed evolutionary pressure. For centuries, intead of allowing the weak and the unfit to die, we have preserved their lives. Thankfully now modern reproductive science has allowed us to practically eliminate certain unfitnesses such as Down's Syndrome and the cleft pallette, but still some families choose to have children with genetic disorders born, and they keep those children alive! It is an offence..."
"Coral!" Dr. Lansdale cried. "Please!"
I looked at Scruff and saw she looked a little scared by Professor Williams' rant. I don't mind saying I was as well.
If only I had been able to make the connection then!

Evolve or Die! 9.

I got some sleep while Scruff and the Sparrow were doing their networking, googling, and whatever it is the Sparrow does. Emily went out on the prowl, looking for clues. So I was up bright and early, while Scruff and Emily were tired and irritable.
Which is particularly scary with a thirteen-year-old Outsider, believe me.
My big event that day was the re-scheduled Natural History Museum event. Me and Scruff, keeping our eyes and ears open.
My first stop was Diana Dickson. She knows people, and I wanted introductions.
Diana was pleased to see me (she usually is, except for the time with the cursed Egyptian scarab, but that's another story).
"Jane! Do you want to meet some more of my friends?"
"I need introductions, yes."
First up was a white-bearded man called Andrew Lansdale, a biochemist. He shook my hand warmly and smiled.
"Miss Jane Hill! I remember your father when he was a lad. I was so sorry when he died. And you're his eldest daughter..."
"I'm his youngest," Scruff said. Trust her to do that.
"Lilian Hill!" Scruff blushed.
"I prefer to be called Scruff."
"I see. It certainly suits you. So, Jane, what are you doing now?"
"Being very rich. I'm sort of a patron of Diana's, which is why I'm here."
"Ah. Professor Williams!"
I was hardly prepared for the attractive redhead in the expensive suit who hurried over. I say 'in', I mean it in the loosest possible sense (I can be catty if I want to be, I'd have looked horrible in the thing).
"Andrew?"
"This is Miss Jane Hill. Her father was at school with me - in a lower form."
"I'm Scruff," Scruff introduced herself. "I'm Jane's younger sister."
"Professor Coral Williams. I'm a zoologist. I'm glad to see you here."
"I support some of Diana's work," I explained. "Collecting specimens, preserving species."
"So you're not just one of the idle rich?"
"No, I'm very much one of the world's useful people," I smiled. I can be nice when I want to, even to women wearing clothes I disapprove of. "What do you do?"
"All sorts of things, Miss Hill. I'm an admirer of Professor Richard Dawkins. Evolution is such an important subject, and for ignorant religious people..."
"Not all religious people are ignorant," Lansdale interrupted her. "Jane's grandparents were very intelligent people and members of a Baptist Church..."
"Really? And you, Jane?"
"I'm a member in the same Church, despite Scruff," I joked.
"Oh, well. Dr. Flagg says she's certain religion's a delusion. Magic, religion, it's all the same sort of thing. There's no more truth to the Bible's stories of Jesus' rising from the dead than there is to the claims of Egyptian and Indian magicians!"
Diana and I exchanged significant glances. Diana's very open to belief in things beyond our reason. Ever since a mummified cat came to life and attacked her. As for me, I have a black smoky Emily at home to prove that Ghul's magic was real.
I hoped we were getting somewhere.

Evolve or Die! 8.

Emily and I left the Sparrow's lab feeling less than happy about what was going on. The killer had access to some pretty advanced technology, and probably chemical knowledge. He or she also had access to the drugs market. The question was, how much access?
The radio of the Grey Car buzzed, and Scruff's voice came over the airwaves.
"Sis, there's been another death, a beggar in Leicester Square. Same symptoms. Just listening to the police scanner made me want to throw up again."
That I could understand.
"The Sparrow came up with an identification for the poison that killed the victims. Some sort of exotic poison popular in Italy in the 16th century. Which figures, really."
"Not one used in India today," Emily added. "Or I'd know about it."
And she would. That girl knows a lot about nasty ways to kill people - which is quite handy, really.
"Where to, then?" she asked me.
"Home. There's nothing we can do at Leicester Square - too many police officers. I just have to think outside the box, as it were. Who's behind this?"
The question bothered me all the way home. I mean, this was nasty. REALLY nasty. Jack-the-Ripper nasty, but with poison rather than with knives.
Of course!
"Scruff, I think I have some sort of a lead! I was thinking about Jack the Ripper. There's a similarity here. Jack the Ripper targetted prostitutes. The way he dissected the bodies indicated that he had some surgical skill. Well, this killer has quite advanced chemical knowledge, and it seems he or she hates drug addicts."
"Jack the Ripper was never caught." Scruff pointed out.
"Jack the Ripper didn't have us and the Sparrow after him. Contact Alice, and the two of you can draw up a list of scientists in London who have the skill to make the poison that was used. Then you can find out if any of them have the underworld contacts to get the stuff 'cut' with drugs."
At last, I thought, we were getting somewhere. Perhaps.

Evolve or Die! 7.

The Sparrow is an international crime-fighter and superheroine. She's also an old school friend of mine (maybe my old school should advertise the fact?). I use her as my forensic lab when she's in town. She was born blind, but her dad, a brilliant man, made her artificial eyes that can see in practically any spectrum. Which is handy, really. The electronic eyes have a computer link to her brain, and she uses that (along with the bes virus-protection in the world) to link her brain to the internet. Again, might useful.
She knows just about everything about science. Whereas I don't kow enough to analyse the sample. So Emily and I just watched in fasination as Alice examined the blood sample. It didn't do any harm, and I'm sure Alice appreciated my expression. It was one of those moments when I wished I looked like Emily -no-one can see her expression!!
"Jane," Alice said at length. "That's the most fascinating sample you've ever brought me. There's a toxin in this blood so virulent that it kills the victim within five minutes. Where did you get it?"
"You KNOW where I got it!"
"All right, then where did the victim get it?"
"In a 'hit' of heroin, I assume."
"That's impossible. But you know nearly as much about crime as I do, so you must be right. There's no way this drug could have been administered with heroin. The reaction... unless... it might have been administered in two parts! That would have got around the reaction. Part with the heroin, and part later, with something else."
"A two-part poison?"
"Yes. The Borgias were expert at such things, and this one was used back in the 16th century as a way of getting rid of people who were unwanted. It was often administered years apart, the first part stays in the system for years, the second part can then be administered later. Both parts are quite harmless on their own..."
"Then the killer's 'cut' the first part with the drugs he's selling and he administers the second part to his victims later?"
"It could be much later," Alice affirmed.
"Alice, we're in serious trouble. Who knows how long the contaminated drugs have been circulating for? Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of drug-addicts could have been poisoned. They're carrying around half of a lethal poison in their systems, and when the second part is administered, they'll die horribly."
"You've got your motive then, Jane, someone hates drug-addicts."
I nodded. I had a probable motive. But I had no suspects at all.

Evolve or Die! 6.

The Outsider and I faced three armed police officers. The potential for misunderstanding was huge. After all, I'd broken into one their labs and stolen a blood sample, and I'm not exactly popular with the Met. If only it had been a City Police lab...
"Would you accept it if I said I got lost?" I asked.
"Let me handle it."

With a swirl of black smoke, the Outsider became visible, crossbow in hand, eyes blazing red. The police officers stared in horror at her. stange form
"The... The Outsider!"
"The Outsider," sheaffirmed. "I'm just investigating a terrible murder. The Girl in Grey is my friend!"
Her red eyes blazed up at the police officers, dangerous, challenging them to confront her.
No-one did. Emily's scary like that. I bolted, leaving her to hold off the police.
She rejoined me in the car minutes later.
"Thanks, Black and Smoky," I smiled at her. I suppose she smiled back, but you never can tell that with Emily.
We sped back across town to see my friend in her expensive penthouse. She's not much richer than I am really, but I like my home more homely. And people in expensive blocks might ask questions if they saw someone like Emily wandering around. In my block there are enough really weird people for her to be connected with THEM rather than with me.
Or that's my idea, anyhow!
Emily remained invisible as we rode up in the lift. I rang the bell and the door opened.
My friend stood there dressed in robe and dark glasses.
"The Girl in Grey!" she laughed. "Alone?"
"No." Emily became visible again in a swirl of smoke.
"Hey! That's neat! How did you do that?"
"Magic," Emily explained.
"It must be! I couldn't see you at all! Even Dr. Reflecto couldn't hide from my eyes. Alice James, also known as the Sparrow. Usually I fight the more interaional and weird criminals."
"Like Dr. Reflecto?" Emily asked.
"I know. Jerk name. But he picked it. Maybe all the good ones were taken. Did you get the sample?"
"I did. It isn't one of your villains, is it?"
"No. All the poisonous ones are out of London. The one I'm chasing right now uses electricity."
"then here it is."
We went inside to examine the sample.