‘Palm Springs and Orlando are making money.’

‘Retired folks love their e-coupons,’ Harry laughed. ‘What about the big markets? Washington, San Francisco, Chicago?’

‘New York is close to breaking even,’ Ellie said. ‘And the super-lean model means that when we open a site in a new city our costs are less than a thousand dollars a month.’

‘So what about Earl’s story?’ Harry asked. ‘Can I at least make some calls and find out how much a private investigator would cost?’

‘Harry, I need every penny right now.’

‘You’re broke again?’ Harry said, sighing. ‘I wish you’d focus on making our original, ten-grand-per-week-profitable Vegas Local website great, instead of living in San Fran and trying to take over the world.’

‘I’ll ask if you still feel that way when you cash your cheque for twenty-five million,’ Ellie said.

Harry tutted. ‘I’m not holding my breath on that.’

‘I’m truly sorry,’ Ellie said, sighing. ‘I value the work you do, Harry. You got that Fawn Janssen story up before anyone else in Vegas. It’s making a ton of money.’

The ton of money hung in Harry’s ears as Ellie hung up.

I don’t care about money. But I guess that’s easy to say when you live in a house the size of an aircraft hangar and your super-chef auntie buys you a $33,000 car the day you get your learner’s permit.

Kirsten’s gonna blow when she finds out I’m failing math. And Anita is ace at maths. When she asked if I wanted to study with her, she had nothing to gain. She was offering to help me out and I was rude. Why did I act like a grumpy dick?

Harry pounded the Mini’s central armrest, then cursed when he realised that a car had broken down. The single-lane exit road was blocked, and idiots were honking, as if that was going to do any good.

In the end, Harry’s ten-minute drive home from school took an hour. Kirsten’s electric front gate opened obediently, but the roll-up door to the underground garage just made a weird grind and clunk sound. When Harry looked, he was baffled to see a hand trowel wedged in the door frame. The resistance was enough to trigger the safety mechanism and stop it from going up.

Why would the stupid gardener do that? Everything is shit today … Except that Charlie got a break, which is awesome …

Harry unbuckled and flung his door open. The fork was wedged in hard and flakes of paint lifted off as he yanked the trowel and tossed it into a planting.

‘All right, Harry,’ a deep voice said, closing fast.

Harry sprang round, seeing a hulking, overcoated figure with wrecked army boots and a greasy man bun. He tried to scramble, but Man Bun had him cornered, yanking Harry’s spindly arm behind his back, then crashing his forehead into the metal door.