Chapter 18: Nineteen BooksTuesday turned out to be a lot more productive than Monday. Exactly at eight o’clock in the morning, when the Safestore opened, Simon presented his credentials and his key to the receptionist, who was kind enough to show him through a maze of indistinguishable corridors flanked right and left by padlocked doors. Simon liked the atmosphere of it all—the carpet was stainless, the walls washed, the doors and door handles looked clean. The receptionist knew exactly where Stackpoole’s room was, she didn’t hesitate once. Nobody else was around, and no irritating music was playing on low volume. There was a number panel by the door in addition to the padlock.
“What is this?” Simon asked.
The receptionist looked at him blankly. “This is the keypad. Just type in the code
