CHAPTER 4

I have to break the code and I have to break it fast. Ted’s life could depend on it. His face already does. It’s starting to puff up again. And he’s scratching like crazy. Red dots are popping up all over the place. It’s not a good look, trust me.

I stare at the message, coded in numbers:

43      968      46      66      66639

2247      9687      3323      6338

But nothing hits me.

My heart is beating like a drum in my chest. It’s the pressure of the situation. Coded messages are pretty tricky, you know. I need complete silence. Concentration is vital.

‘What if it’s a death threat?’ asks Ted anxiously.

‘That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard,’ I tell him.

‘What if I am a marked boy?’ There is panic in Ted’s voice now. He is itching like crazy.

‘Shut up, will you? Can’t you see I’m trying to concentrate?’

Then I notice something. Why didn’t I see it before?

‘Look at this,’ I say to Ted.

‘What is it?’

But I am on the move. I race over to the drawers in the corner of the tree house. I open them, one by one.

The first one has the nibbly things: packets of Smarties, mini Snickers and Crunchies. A few Chuppa Chups. Some chips.

No, not what I am looking for.

The second one has the clothes: old T-shirts, shorts, jocks, socks. There is also a lightweight jumper. There were two, but I am now wearing one over my soggy pyjamas.

No. Still not what I am looking for.

I open the third and final drawer. This one has stationery: pencils and textas, notepads, a rubber, some white-out. It also has a special compartment for the old mobile phone his mother gave him. And … yes … there’s what I’m looking for!

‘What are you doing, Brain?’ asks Ted. He seems more worried than ever now.

I frown. ‘Something funny is going on here,’ I tell him.

‘What do you mean?’

I show him the piece of paper I have just retrieved from the drawer: one of his dad’s letterheads.

It is blank, except for his dad’s company logo in the top left-hand corner: a printed picture of a house with the words D & A Builders in small black letters underneath.

Then I show him the crumpled piece of paper with the coded message on it, and point to the top left-hand corner.

‘Notice anything?’

‘No,’ says Ted quickly. His face is very red now.

‘I do. This coded message was written on your dad’s letterhead, the same letterhead that is in the third drawer over there, except that someone has whited-out the company logo.’

‘So?’ says Ted.

‘So, why would someone bother to climb all the way up to your tree house, write a coded message on paper they found in the third drawer, white-out your dad’s company logo, then race all the way back down, slash the tyres on your bike, and leave the message behind?’

Ted is stunned. He has no answer. It is no wonder. He looks awful. Like a puffer fish with red dots all over it. He’s sweating, too.

The code. I have to work it out. And I have to do it fast!