Max looked at his watch for the umpteenth time since they’d left home. ‘Do you really think this is a good idea?’ the boy asked, glancing at his father, who was sitting beside him dressed in jeans, a T-shirt and cap – all in black. ‘And is this car stolen?’ Ed turned and grinned at his son. ‘You really think we’d do that sort of thing?’ Max raised his eyebrows. ‘I’ll ignore that. Do you want your notebook back or don’t you?’ Ed asked. Father and son were seated in a grey, late-model Mercedes-Benz that Max had never seen before, parked down the road from Magoo MacGregor’s townhouse.
Kensy and Fitz were parked the next street over in a Volvo SUV – another car of mystery origin. They would move on Ed’s instructions once the Headmaster of Central London Free School and his wife, Tippie, had left the house.
‘What if it’s nothing, Dad?’ Max said. ‘And we’ve gone to all this trouble, not to mention a fair amount of risk, for some silly note that means zippo?’
The boy took a deep breath and tried to calm his racing heart.