17 The Fedora

Chapter 17 The Fedora Peanut and Rockwell looked at each other. 'Tell them,' said Rockwell. 'Tell us what?' asked Mr M. 'Peanut, do you know something?' 'Maybe,' said Peanut, sitting back down. ' I, er... I think I might know who Mr White is. And I think you've just confirmed it. 'Go on,' said Mrs M gently. 'I think—we think—he's Milton Stone. My mum's boss.' Rockwell nodded enthusiastically. Mrs M looked anxious. 'OK. Why do you think that?' Peanut shuffled in her seat. ' Well, first of all, he's pretty much the same height as Mr White. Secondly, Mr Stone is

horrible and Mr White is also horrible. Thirdly, he has a very similar turn of phrase. For example, they both said something to me about paper not growing on trees. 'They are wrong of course,' said Little-Bit, 'because, technically, paper does grow on trees. Sure, you have to turn the raw wood into pulp first and mix in a few chemicals, maybe a caustic soda and some sodium sulphide, a dash of hypochlorite for bleaching, and obviously some epichlorohydrin to strengthen All right, Brainiac,' interrupted Rockwell. 'We get it. You know a lot of stuff. But try and keep a lid on it for a second if you can. Go on, Peanut, tell them about the thing. You know, the clincher. The irrefutable proof.' 'OK.' Peanut took a deep breath. 'He's also got a white fedora. It looks exactly the same as Mr White's. 'Hmmm,' said Mr M, frowning. 'If you're right, Peanut, this is a really worrying development. Your family could be in danger. White, er... Stone knows you've been to Chroma. He knows you had Pencil Number One. Which must mean he knows...' He looked over at his wife. that Peanut's dad might be Conté's heir,' they said together.