Chapters (88)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Dear Reader …
- Also by Robert Muchamore
- PART ONE
- Walter J Freeman Adolescent Mental Health Unit – East Grinstead, UK
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- PART TWO
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- PART THREE
- Walter J. Freeman Adolescent Mental Health Unit – East Grinstead, UK
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- PART FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- SIXTY-ONE
- SIXTY-TWO
- SIXTY-THREE
- SIXTY-FOUR
- SIXTY-FIVE
- SIXTY-SIX
- SIXTY-SEVEN
- SIXTY-EIGHT
- SIXTY-NINE
- SEVENTY
- SEVENTY-ONE
- SEVENTY-TWO
- SEVENTY-THREE
- EPILOGUE
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- Have you read KILLER T?
- 1 SLASHED RUBBER
- 2 NOT HARRY POTTER
Julius felt a jangle of nerves as he stepped into the wine cellar. It was no surprise to find most of SJ’s fine wine had been drunk or sold, while dust-free spots were all that remained of whisky and cognac.
The LED on the safe door flashed ERROR09. Julius checked an instruction sticker and read:
ERROR09 – After three unsuccessful attempts to open the main door, system will deactivate and safe cannot be opened for 24 hours. Press CANCEL to see remaining deactivation time.
Julius guessed kids had tapped random numbers into the keypad until the system locked them out. He hit cancel and was pleased to see a row of zeros on the countdown. He prayed the code hadn’t been changed as he closed the wine-cellar door and tapped six numbers into the lock.
There was a beep and a satisfying whirr of bolts. The door clanked as Julius lifted the lever and he was massively relieved to see everything as he’d left it: euros, dollars, men’s watches, jewellery boxes and the movable shelf that hid the second control panel for the slot in the floor.
It was an empowering sight. The country cousins could sleep in Julius’s bed, steal the vintage Bordeaux and let their kids drag crayons along the walls, but he was still the son of the woman who’d made the Adebisi name count for something, and the only guy with the code for the big safe.
Julius lifted two £1,000 wraps of mint twenties, then shut the door quickly.
SIXTY-THREE
Wendy and Georgia sat on fashionably dilapidated leather, beneath exposed steel beams in Walrus Books’ swanky reception area. The wall behind them had a display of the publisher’s Nobel Prize-winning authors, while the Book of the Month cabinet was piled with the autobiography of a bagpipe-playing nun who’d won a TV talent show.
‘Book editors are usually late to their own funerals,’ Wendy said, keeping her voice low so the intern on the reception desk didn’t overhear. ‘I liked your bracelet tweet, by the way. Nice and intimate, nothing controversial.’
‘Three hundred thousand likes for my itchy ankle,’ Georgia said, shaking her head to show how ridiculous she found it. ‘It even got a story on the BBC website, Pack Breaks Social Media Silence …’
‘I assumed your dad would be here,’ Wendy noted. ‘Is he OK about this?’
‘Dad stopped telling me what to do when he was depressed,’ Georgia said. ‘I thought he might go back to a you’ll do as I say territory now he’s feeling better. But he’s been mellow so far.’
‘I’m glad he’s feeling better,’ Wendy said.
‘I thought you might send Jane, since she set up this meeting and you only got out of prison yesterday.’