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amount of damage. You practically destroyed a three-million-dollar
conference center. It's a miracle nobody was killed."
    "The
two men who were in the boat will be in the hospital for months,"
Mrs. Jones added.
    "You
could have killed the home secretary!" Blunt continued. "That would
have been the last straw. What were you doing?"
    "They
were drug dealers," Alex said.
    "So
we've discovered. But the normal procedure would have been to call the
police."
    "I
couldn't find a phone." Alex sighed. "They turned off the
crane," he explained. "I was going to put the boat next to the
police department. On the doorstep."
    Blunt blinked
once and waved a hand as if dismissing everything that had happened.
"It's just as well that your special status came up on the police
computer," he said. "They called us--and we've handled
the rest."
    "I
didn't know I had special status," Alex said.
    "Oh,
yes, Alex. You're nothing if not special." Blunt gazed at him for a
moment. "That's why you're here."
    "So
you're not going to send me home?"
    "No.
The fact is, Alex, that we were thinking of contacting you anyway. We need you
again."
    "You're
probably the only person who can do what we have in mind,"
Mrs. Jones added.
    "Wait a
minute!" Alex shook his head. "I've still got two weeks of
school before Easter. I'm far enough behind as it is. Suppose I'm
not interested?"
    Mrs. Jones
sighed. "We could, of course, return you to the police," she said.
"As I understand it, they were very eager to interview you."
    "And
how is Miss Starbright?" Blunt asked.
    Jack
Starbright--Alex still didn't know if the name was short for Jackie
or for Jacqueline--was the housekeeper who had been looking after Alex
since his uncle had died. She was a bright, red-haired American girl who had
come to London to study law but had never left. Blunt wasn't interested
in her health--Alex knew that. The last time they'd met, he'd
made his position clear. So long as Alex did as he was told, he could keep
living in his uncle's apartment with Jack. Step out of line and
she'd be deported to America.
    Alex liked
Jack. For ten years, she'd almost been like a big sister to him. He also
needed her. He knew that he was too young to live on his own and that once she
was out of the picture, the authorities would have custody of him. That would
mean some grim institution in the north of England. Blunt had made that clear
too.
    "Have
you told Jack where I am?" he asked.
    "Of
course. She doesn't seem to like the idea of our ... employing you.
Actually, I must remember to get her to sign the Official Secrets Act. I
wouldn't want her talking to the wrong people."
    Mrs. Jones
took over. "Come on, Alex," she said. "Why pretend
you're an ordinary schoolboy anymore?" She was trying to sound more
friendly, more like a mother. But even snakes have mothers, Alex thought.
"You've already proven yourself once," she went on.
"We're just giving you a chance to do it again."
    "It'll
probably come to nothing," Blunt continued. "It's just
something that needs looking into. What we call a search and report."
    "Why
can't Crawley do it?"
    "We
need a boy."
    Alex fell
silent. He looked from Blunt to Mrs. Jones and back again. He knew that
neither of them would hesitate for a second before pulling him out of
Brookland, taking him away from his friends, and sending him ... wherever.
Anyway, wasn't this what he had been asking for only the day before?
Another adventure. Another chance to save the world.
    "All
right," he said. "What is it this time?"
    Blunt nodded
at Mrs. Jones, who unwrapped another peppermint and began.
    "I
wonder if you know anything about a man called Michael J. Roscoe?" she asked.
    Alex thought
for a moment. "He was that businessman who had an accident in New
York." He'd seen the news on TV "Didn't he fall down an
elevator shaft or something?"
    "Roscoe
Electronics is one of the largest companies in America," Mrs. Jones
said. "In fact, it's one of the largest in the world. Computers,
videos, DVD players