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
‘Hey,’ Georgia said, squeezing her eyes shut in fear. But her dad’s voice wasn’t what she’d expected.
‘Cookie?’ he slurred. ‘You’re at the police station?’
‘Dad, are you drinking?’ Georgia queried.
‘So drunk,’ John agreed. ‘We lost the Metro Powerlines bid. Financial due diligence. The report said we lack the long-term financial stability to become a partner that provides mission-critical services …’
Georgia understood. One of her dad’s biggest fears was that Metro Powerlines would like his business proposal but prefer the security of working with a bigger company.
‘I’m winding it up,’ John said tearfully. ‘The business is kaput.’
Georgia felt tears welling in her eyes. ‘Dad, I’m really sorry … I know you’ve had a crap day, but can you listen? I’ve messed up really badly and I need your help.’
Georgia heard a woman say something behind her dad. Then the phone got snatched.
‘Georgia, it’s me,’ Auntie Michelle said. ‘Phil and your father just rolled up in a taxi. They’re roaring drunk. Did I hear him say you’re at the police station? Have you been attacked?’
‘I got arrested,’ Georgia said meekly.
‘They arrested him?’
‘No,’ Georgia said. Then broke the syllables down like she was speaking to a three-year-old, ‘I have been ar-res-ted. Dad must come to the po-lice sta-ti-on.’
‘Really?’ Michelle asked. ‘You?’
In the background, Georgia could hear her dad slur something to Uncle Phil. Phil roared something back about everyone being bastards, then her dad sounded tearful as he shouted, ‘Tell Cookie I love her. Tell her I’m sorry I’ve ruined everything …’
‘Shut up,’ Michelle snapped. ‘I can’t hear Georgia with you two idiots in my ear.’
Then there was a big crash as Georgia’s dad fell backwards from one of Auntie Michelle’s dining chairs.
TWENTY-FIVE
Orisa was always up by six to prepare breakfast. Julius listened by his bedroom door until he heard her footsteps on the stairs. Once he was certain Orisa had reached the kitchen, he stepped into the hallway and crossed to the locked door of his mother’s office.
It had a simple lever lock, good for stopping people bursting in while you were getting dressed, or kids from entering rooms they weren’t supposed to, but easily defeated with a nail file or sturdy paperclip. Julius had learned the knack years earlier, when Kehinde and Taiwo amused themselves by locking him in dark rooms and telling him there were ghosts inside.
The bolt snapped open after a little jiggling and he took a furtive glance up and down the hallway before slipping inside.
Bunmi was a night owl, often coming home after social functions and working for two or three hours, not rising until long after her boys had left for school. The ornate desk bore evidence of this, with empty Guinness bottles, a whisky tumbler and the desk lamp glowing.