‘So where’s this flat then?’ asked Theo.
‘It’s not a flat. It’s an apartment,’ Ricky corrected loftily.
‘Where is it then?’ Theo looked behind, wondering if perhaps it was back the other way. But what was that? Was it his imagination or had someone ducked into an alleyway a little further down the road? He turned to Ricky, wondering if his friend had seen the same thing, but Ricky was busy looking for the number of the building before him. Frowning, Theo looked down the road again. He was certain someone had ducked out of sight when he turned. Theo walked slowly back the way he’d come. Back towards the alleyway.
‘Theo, where’re you going? It’s this way,’ Ricky beckoned.
‘I just want to check something out,’ Theo called back. He ran the rest of the way to the alleyway and looked down it. Neither its smell nor its appearance were particularly inviting. It was strewn with boxes and rubbish and other things that looked entirely less savoury. And it was dark – towering buildings rising like giants on either side of it. There was no one there and, as far as Theo could see, no one would want to go down there, either. And yet, somewhere in there amongst the shadows … Theo shivered. The whole alleyway had turned into a malevolent presence.
‘Theo, are you coming or what?’ Ricky called impatiently.
Taking one last look, Theo turned and walked back to Ricky. They carried on walking together.
Ricky started reading off the numbers of the buildings. ‘Fifty-nine to sixty-nine. It must be the next building along.’
Theo turned sharply. A man walking behind stopped to look at one of the buildings.
‘Ricky, I think we’re being followed,’ said Theo.
Ricky turned around. ‘What? Are you sure?’
‘No,’ Theo admitted. ‘But I’m sure that man was hiding in the shadows of the alleyway and now he’s pretending to be looking at that building.’
‘Wait a minute. Isn’t that the man who was sitting two seats in front of us?’ asked Ricky.
Theo stared. ‘Is it?’
They both turned all the way around to look at the man they suspected of following them. The man took a piece of paper out of his pocket and looked down at it before looking back up at the building. He turned around and walked in the opposite direction away from them.
‘Maybe we’re both a little jittery.’ Ricky shrugged.
‘And maybe we aren’t,’ Theo countered.
The front of the next building consisted almost entirely of marble and glass. Behind a huge desk against one wall sat two uniformed security guards. The foyer of the building consisted of huge plants and glass and mirrors. Theo had never seen anything like it. Theo and Ricky looked for a doorbell for Darius Marriott’s apartment but there was none. Instead there was a bell to press for Reception. Raising his eyebrows, Ricky pressed it. Theo could see the two security guards watching them. Then he heard a loud click. Ricky pulled at the door and they entered.
‘Can I help you?’ asked the older of the security guards.
‘We’re here to see Bullet, I mean Toby Barker. His dad is Darius Marriott. He asked us to meet him here.’
‘Just a moment.’ The security guard picked up one of the two phones on the desk in front of him and looked Theo straight in the eye. ‘Hello, Mr Marriott. I have two children down here who say they’re here to see your son … Yes, sir.’ The guard turned back to Theo and Ricky. ‘And your names are?’
‘Theo Mosley. And this is Ricky Burridge,’ Theo provided.
The security guard repeated the information over the phone. ‘Yes, sir … No, sir … Very good, sir.’
Three bags full, sir! Theo thought, eyebrows raised. What was it about Darius Marriott that had all the grown-ups around him bowing and scraping? The man’s farts were probably just as smelly as everyone else’s!
‘Take the lift over there and press the button marked P,’ ordered the security guard.
Without another word, Theo and Ricky did as they were told. Only when the lift doors had shut behind them did they speak.
‘Have you ever seen anything like this?’ Theo asked. ‘This lift has got a better carpet in it than we’ve got in our whole house! And this building is something else. Mr Marriott must be rolling in it.’
‘He probably has a room in his apartment full of money and he goes in there every day and just jumps up and down and rolls about in it,’ Ricky sniffed.
‘Ah! But is he happy?’ Theo asked seriously.
He and Ricky looked at each other. ‘Yes!’ they said in unison.
The lift doors opened. Bullet and his dad stood outside an open door beyond which Theo and Ricky saw the biggest living room they’d ever seen. Darius wore a royal blue shirt, a golden yellow tie and a navy blue suit which fitted so well it had to have been made for him.
‘Hello, Mr Marriott.’
‘Good morning, Mr Marriott.’
‘Morning. I can’t stop. Help yourself to whatever.’ Darius rushed past them into the lift.
‘Bye, Dad.’
Darius just had time to wave before the lift doors closed.
‘In a hurry, was he?’ said Ricky, drily. ‘So Bullet, I’m bursting to know what was so all-fired urgent that you had to drag us out of bed at six o’clock in the morning.’
‘How come you’re here and not at home?’ asked Theo.
‘I spent the weekend with my dad. It’s OK. Mum said I could.’
‘You’re round here a lot these days, aren’t you?’ Ricky said thoughtfully.
‘Is your mum here too?’ Theo asked.
Bullet shook his head. ‘She wouldn’t come even though Dad invited her. But she said she understands that me and Dad want to get to know each other better. I sometimes wish …’
‘Wish what?’ Theo prompted when Bullet shut up.
‘It’s just that it would be so perfect if Mum and Dad … Well, there’s no use talking about it. It’s not going to happen.’ Bullet shrugged.
Theo and Ricky followed Bullet into the penthouse. Only when they were inside the apartment, could they appreciate the living room’s true size and splendour.
‘Wow! This isn’t a living room. Clear all the furniture out of the way and two professional teams could play a decent game of football.’ Theo whistled appreciatively.
One wall of the living room was entirely made of glass and the view was spectacular. They could see most of the town and out into the countryside beyond. The sky was a clear, morning blue and in the distance Theo could see a plane banking. He walked over to the window and looked out over the town, wondering if he’d be able to make out his house from here.
‘Where’s your dad gone, then?’ asked Ricky.
‘He had to leave for an emergency meeting,’ said Bullet.
‘So where’s the fire?’ Theo turned to ask.
‘I wanted to show you around and show you some things before his housekeeper arrives. We’re only going to be alone for about another twenty minutes, half an hour at the most,’ Bullet explained.
‘I thought you were going to scan your dad’s will into his computer and get a printout.’ Theo frowned.
‘I don’t want to risk it. I don’t want to risk taking anything out of this apartment that I shouldn’t. Dad told me that he’s got security devices all over the place.’
‘What kind of security devices?’ Theo and Ricky looked around anxiously.
‘I can’t see anything,’ Ricky said slowly, still checking the corners of the vast room.
‘That’s the thing. I’ve looked everywhere and I can’t see the first hint of a security device. Dad’s security is brilliant.’ Bullet grinned.
‘So how are we going to see the will?’ Theo asked. ‘I don’t want to do anything that’ll have shutters banging down and lights flashing and will get Tweedledee and Tweedledum at the desk downstairs up here.’
‘I think we’re OK as long as we don’t try to take anything out past the front door,’ Bullet said.
‘You don’t sound too sure,
’ said Ricky.
‘I’m not,’ Bullet admitted.
‘What explanation did you give your dad for inviting us round here?’ asked Theo.
‘I asked him if you could come round before school to help me revise for our test today,’ Bullet explained.
‘And your dad was OK with that?’
Bullet smiled. ‘He believed me. Why shouldn’t he? Besides, I think he thought I just wanted to show off his apartment to you.’
‘Can’t think why!’ Theo said wryly, looking around again.
‘Come on. This way. We’d better get cracking before the housekeeper arrives. The safe is in Dad’s den.’
Suppressing the urge to make a sarky remark, Theo followed behind Bullet who led the way to one of the rooms on the right, leading off the living room. The den consisted of a large mahogany table upon which sat a PC screen, printer, scanner and speakers. The floor was polished parquet wood with a huge rug in the centre of the room. The rug was a revelation in itself. Its pattern consisted of three white peacocks displaying their snow-white tail feathers, whilst between them and around the edges smaller midnight-blue and turquoise peacocks tried to peck at them. And the peacocks were so beautifully embroidered, Theo expected them to burst out of the rug and take wing at any second. Around the walls there was shelf after shelf of books. Theo walked around, curious about the sort of things a millionaire liked to read. It was all non-fiction. And most of the books were about military whatevers. Military machines. Military strategy. Military tactics. Military doodahs – past, present and future. Theo wrinkled up his nose. How boring. Apart from the large table with all the computer equipment on and under it, there were two huge black leather chairs beneath each window and one wall of the den was covered in paintings, most of which Theo recognized as famous ones done by people like Monet and Van Gogh. Theo’s mum and dad liked paintings – especially Impressionist paintings – but they bought the posters and then framed them. Theo was in no doubt at all that every painting in this room was the real thing. He couldn’t help wondering, did Darius Marriott own those paintings because he liked them and they gave him pleasure, or did he own them so that he could say he owned them?
‘Dad calls that his picture wall.’ Bullet smiled.
‘It’s a great room,’ Ricky said.
Theo didn’t think so. In spite of the morning light streaming through the window, the room was cold and dark and uninviting.
‘Dad’s safe is under the rug.’ Bullet headed straight for it. ‘Help me roll it back.’
They all helped to roll back the rug until more than half of the floor was exposed. Pulling the rug out of the way, Theo and Ricky went back to Bullet to check out the contraption in the floor. And there it was – a rectangular door, a little smaller than the cupboard doors in Theo’s kitchen at home. It was made of a silver-coloured metal. In the middle of the door was a keypad. Theo had expected a round tumbler device with numbers all around it like they always showed on the telly. Bullet took a small device out of his pocket, like a thick compass with two antennae sticking out of it. Also attached to it were two earpieces on a longish cable, like the earpieces sometimes supplied with a portable CD player.
‘That’s your safe cracker, is it?’ Theo asked.
Bullet nodded, putting the earpieces in his ears.
‘So how does it work then?’
‘It sends a phased series of tones and pulses to the opening mechanism microchip and analyses differential micro delays in response times so that …’
‘Nope, forget it. It’s another Heathrow job already.’ Theo waved away the explanation which had already lost him.
‘When you try a random number for the combination, the computer takes a different amount of time to say “no” based on how wrong the number is. By timing the delay you can home in on the right number pretty quickly.’
‘Hang on.’ Theo frowned. ‘With a keypad you could have any number of numbers and in any order. I don’t see how your device is going to help in this instance.’
‘I know all the numbers except the last one and I know the last one consists of three digits,’ said Bullet. ‘So all I have to do is find that last three-digit number before Mrs Frayn the housekeeper arrives.’
‘Go on then. Do your stuff,’ said Ricky, glancing down at his watch. ‘But hurry up.
We still have to get to school after all this. I’ll wait by the door and warn you if anyone comes in.’
Ten minutes later the safe still wasn’t open.
‘Bullet, we’re running out of time,’ Theo said anxiously.
‘I know. I know. I’m doing my best,’ Bullet replied.
Another seven minutes passed before the safe door finally clicked open.
‘At last!’ Ricky breathed a sigh of relief. He went back to the centre of the room to get a better look. Hanging down on suspended rods were hanging files, each containing papers and more papers.
‘I think Dad’s will is in here somewhere.’ Bullet started hunting through the hanging files.
‘What’s the rest of this stuff?’ Theo couldn’t help asking.
‘Research notes on new inventions, notes on the Lazarus suit, that kind of thing. Plus details of most of Dad’s bank accounts around the world.’
‘He’s got more than one account?’ asked Ricky.
‘Of course,’ said Bullet, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. ‘Ah, here it is. Dad’s will.’
Ricky and Theo gathered in closer, eager to see what it contained. They all read in silence for a couple of minutes.
‘All that legal jargon is a bit hard going but as far as I can see, you get everything apart from a few thousands scattered around to some of his staff and some of his favourite charities,’ Theo said at last.
‘Yes, but have you seen this bit?’ Ricky turned to the third page of the will. ‘If Bullet dies before Mr Marriott then the terms of the old will apply.’
‘Bullet, what were the terms of the old will, d’you know?’
‘Yeah, Dad told me. As far as Dad’s DemTech shares are concerned, Ron would’ve inherited twenty-five per cent, Yves and Faith would’ve got eleven per cent each and Jo was due to get four per cent.’
Theo’s expression grew pained as he did some less than rapid mental totting up. ‘Hang on. That doesn’t add up to one hundred, that only adds up to fifty-one.’
‘Dad’s only got fifty-one per cent of the company’s stock. At the moment, Ron has fifteen per cent, Faith and Yves have thirteen per cent and Jo has eight per cent of the company.’
‘But – have I got this right? – according to the old will, if your dad’s shares were split between the four of them, none of them would’ve had outright control of DemTech. Ron would’ve inherited the most, giving him – my head hurts! – forty per cent of the company, but that’s not enough to run things,’ Theo pointed out.
‘Maybe Dad didn’t want any one of them running the company. Or maybe it was a device to make them all work together? I don’t know.’ Bullet shrugged.
‘Your dad told you an awful lot about himself and his company in a very short space of time,’ Ricky said speculatively.
‘We’ve had great talks.’ Bullet beamed. ‘We had a lot of catching up to do.’
‘But why would he tell you so much about his wills and the DemTech set-up and the rest?’ Ricky persisted.
‘’Cos I’m his son, of course,’ Bullet said, surprised that Ricky even had to ask.
‘It’s just that …’
‘What was that?’ Bullet’s head turned immediately towards the door. ‘Quick! Give me the will.’
Bullet snatched the will out of Ricky’s hands and stuffed it back into its hanging file before slamming the door shut.
‘The rug! Quick! The rug!’ Bullet hissed.
Theo rolled and Ricky leaped in the rug’s direction. Bullet sprang out of the way as Ricky and Theo rolled it out like pushing a barrel. They straightened up the rug just as the door opened.
‘Hello,
Mrs Frayn …’ Bullet’s voice trailed off as they all stared at the woman who entered the den.
If this was Mrs Frayn then she was like no other housekeeper Theo had ever seen. She wore a bright red evening dress and a midnight-black mink coat. And something told Theo that it wasn’t fake fur.
‘Well now. Who might you three be?’ the woman asked. ‘No, don’t tell me. Let me guess.’ She pointed straight at Bullet. ‘You’re Darius’s long-lost son. Correct?’
Bullet gulped and nodded.
The woman scrutinized Bullet as if he was under a microscope. It wasn’t that Theo and Ricky were forgotten. It was as if they weren’t even there. They were of no more interest than passing ants on the pavement.
‘Toby Barker …’ The woman breathed Bullet’s name, her tone dripping with the smile on her face although, for the life of him, Theo couldn’t see what was so amusing. The woman looked around, before turning back to Bullet.
‘Tell me,’ she said at last. ‘How much would it take to make you and your mother disappear?’
Chapter Thirteen
Mrs Marriott
‘I DON’T UNDERSTAND.’ Bullet’s voice came out in a squeak.
‘You’re obviously after my husband’s money but I’m back now. And I’m going to make sure you don’t get one brown penny from Darius’s will. So I’ll ask you again, how much will it take for you and your mother to make yourselves scarce?’
‘I don’t want Dad’s money,’ Bullet replied indignantly. ‘That’s not what this is about at all.’
‘No?’ Mrs Marriott crossed the room, overpoweringly sweet perfume wafting behind her. It made Theo want to sneeze. ‘Then exactly what is this all about?’
‘I just wanted to see Dad. I wanted … I want to be with him,’ said Bullet.
‘There’s no room for you in his life, or mine,’ said Mrs Marriott.
‘That’s not what Dad said,’ Bullet told her.
‘But then he wouldn’t. Darius always leaves it to me to do all his dirty work for him.’ Mrs Marriott’s laugh was a tinkling bell. No one could deny that she was very beautiful. She had shoulder-length auburn hair and deep green eyes framed by the longest eyelashes that Theo had ever seen. Some people might’ve looked silly wearing an evening dress at this time in the morning, but she didn’t.