The Case of the Exploding Brains (19 page)

Ms Grimm/Trimm . . .

. . . is on the run again. Footage from the Prison Visitors’ Centre identified her as the head of bogus charity STEALTH and the police would like to talk to her. Section
39 of the Prison Act makes it an offence to take things into prison to facilitate an escape, so she’s in big trouble. If you add that to the continuing investigation into the child kidnapping
charges from her time as Head of LOSERS, Ms Grimm must be high on the police’s Most Wanted list.

After receiving an anonymous (ahem) call about 7 Albion Road, the police discovered her bathroom shrine to Dad, giving them ‘love’ (vomit) as a motive for her involvement. Her
photograph has been shared with Dad’s new prison guards and she is banned from any future visits.

Mum . . .

. . . enjoyed her day out, but took a few weeks to recover from the exertion. Museum Curator Gnome offered her a medal for her part in solving the Case of the Exploding Brains,
but Mum said what she’d really like was one of the new Wi-Fi Camera Buddy Moon Rovers she’d spotted in the museum gift shop, because it would allow her to see what’s going on in
other rooms of the house while she’s sitting on the sofa.

After discovering Dad was no longer allowed contact with Ms Grimm, Mum agreed to speak to him on the telephone once per week. That was Porter’s idea. He said Mum must still have some
feelings for Dad as she had got off the sofa to help him several times. Mum says if the phone calls go well and Dad promises not to grow back the goatee beard, then maybe she’ll come with me
on one of my visits.

Holly . . .

. . . has convinced Porter that she can still read minds and keeps torturing him by pretending to know what he’s thinking. When she’s not Porter-baiting, she is busy
setting up Google Alerts so she can monitor whether the Grimm Reaper reappears. She’s crosser with Dad than ever, if that’s possible, but does come with me to visit him every so often:
mainly so she can tell him what an idiot he is.

Porter . . .

. . . has been far more relaxed about living with us since he saw Vigil-Aunty’s birthday present. I guess it’s hard to be scared of a lady you’ve seen in a
gold metallic bikini. He doesn’t speak about his mother at all, but I’ve caught him on my computer a few times and when I checked the search history afterwards (
not
spying
– my fingers just slipped on the buttons) I found he’d been googling her name, so he must miss her.

Me . . .

. . . Museum Curator Gnome awarded me with a ‘medal of honour’, but the metal has started to look tarnished already, so I wish I’d asked for a new Wi-Fi Camera
Buddy Moon Rover too. Then I could send it to visit Dad in my place. Our visits have become a bit sulky since I reported his escape attempt. I’m glad we solved the case (ish), but I wish our
investigations didn’t always end up with Dad in prison – especially when it’s me that keeps putting him there.

I told Holly and Porter it might be time for me to take a break from mystery-solving. They just laughed.

An explosion of gratitude:

To my three favourite people – Mark, Jodie and Dylan – for listening to this book while it was just a bedtime story, and for laughing in all the right places.

To the drama-tastic kids who’ve brought the ‘Exploding’ series to life in schools, libraries and bookshops around the UK and UAE: Ava, Afaranyesh, Amber,
Charlie, Daisy, Darius, Dylan, Freya, Harri, Harriet, Harry, Holly, Hugo, Jodie, Katie, Maia, Maisy, Megan, Poppy, Rebecca, Ruby, Seb, Sofia, Zac and so many more. Yay, you!

To my sister Kate and my cousin Chris for prancing around the Science Museum with me, accidentally setting off security alarms, until we figured out how to steal a space
rock.

To my crit. partner, Tatum Flynn, who is too funny for her own good, particularly after a few strawberry daiquiris. And to the other wonderful beings who have made this book
what it is. (That may not be a compliment): Debbie Sims, Amber Dawson, Tracy Donnelly, Sue Harrison, Heidi Frost, Cousin Giles, Matthew Bage, Rachel Collier, Robert Dole, the Payne family, the very
nice man at the Science Museum, and all the people I’ve forgotten to mention, who will be sending me grumpy emails about it soon.

To my glamorous assistants who have helped me organise school visits, book events, photos, videos and life in general – Alice (more magical than Harry) Potter, Alison
Kittermaster, Gemma Hamerton, Reem Haroun, Claire Buitendag, Lydia Leeks, Sam Burnett, Hana Aziz, Svenja Cassia, Maria Murgian, Emma Wright, Roze at Horizon and the almighty Minna from
Magrudy’s.

To Montegrappa, the Emirates Lit Fest team & LBA Books for making me the happiest runner-up ever, and to Simon & Schuster for their all-round loveliness and for letting
me share Rachel Mann, editor extraordinaire, Lorraine ‘LollyPopPR’ Keating, and Becky Peacock, super-efficient S&S superstar.

To my illustrator, The Boy Fitz Hammond, who should have made his name much bigger on the cover.

To the authors and bloggers who may one day explode with their own loveliness: Abi ‘Moontrug’ Elphinstone, Annabel Kantaria, Antonia Lindsay (thanks for the shoes),
Joe Craig, Jonathan Meres, Kate Scott, Kathy Hoopmann, Liz Fenwick, Sarah Sky, Tony Bradman, Susan Mann, Wondrous Jenny, Serendipitous Viv, Minifigs Ruth, Elise, Chaletfan, Bibliomaniac, Nayu,
YAyeahyeahJim, Charli, Amelie and, of course, the Book Walrus.

To Jack Cheshire and Max Dowler for added silliness, and to Elen Mulholland, Lesley Mneimne and Clare Damamme for kindly loaning their toilets to celebrity guests.

To Mrs Robinson, Mr Vipond and Mrs Foster for being my all-time favourite English teachers. And to the world’s best form teachers – Lynn (without an
‘e’) Doyle and Kelly Wass.

And last, but by no means least, to MY MUM, because mums rule!