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Back Rabbit Hole Save as PDF
Chapters (73)
  1. Rabbit Hole
  2. Also by Mark Billingham
  3. Title Page
  4. Copyright
  5. Dedication
  6. Epigraph
  7. Preface
  8. PART ONE
  9. ONE
  10. TWO
  11. THREE
  12. FOUR
  13. FIVE
  14. SIX
  15. SEVEN
  16. EIGHT
  17. NINE
  18. TEN
  19. ELEVEN
  20. TWELVE
  21. THIRTEEN
  22. FOURTEEN
  23. FIFTEEN
  24. SIXTEEN
  25. SEVENTEEN
  26. EIGHTEEN
  27. NINETEEN
  28. TWENTY
  29. TWENTY-ONE
  30. TWENTY-TWO
  31. TWENTY-THREE
  32. TWENTY-FOUR
  33. TWENTY-FIVE
  34. TWENTY-SIX
  35. TWENTY-SEVEN
  36. TWENTY-EIGHT
  37. TWENTY-NINE
  38. THIRTY
  39. THIRTY-ONE
  40. THIRTY-TWO
  41. THIRTY-THREE
  42. PART TWO
  43. THIRTY-FOUR
  44. THIRTY-FIVE
  45. THIRTY-SIX
  46. THIRTY-SEVEN
  47. THIRTY-EIGHT
  48. THIRTY-NINE
  49. FORTY
  50. FORTY-ONE
  51. FORTY-TWO
  52. FORTY-THREE
  53. FORTY-FOUR
  54. FORTY-FIVE
  55. FORTY-SIX
  56. FORTY-SEVEN
  57. FORTY-EIGHT
  58. FORTY-NINE
  59. FIFTY
  60. FIFTY-ONE
  61. FIFTY-TWO
  62. FIFTY-THREE
  63. FIFTY-FOUR
  64. FIFTY-FIVE
  65. FIFTY-SIX
  66. FIFTY-SEVEN
  67. FIFTY-EIGHT
  68. PART THREE
  69. FIFTY-NINE
  70. SIXTY
  71. EPILOGUE
  72. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  73. Back Cover

‘Why are you telling me that?’ the detective asks, eventually.

I’m a bit thrown by the question, you want to know the truth. I’ve sat where he is now – not the MDR, but you get the idea – and listened to a fair few suspects spill their guts over the years, and why are you telling me that? was certainly never my first thought. I was always too busy thinking of the work me and everyone else on the team had been saved. My modest shrug at the heartfelt congrats from senior officers, even if the confession was freely offered and I just happened to be the lucky cow in the interview room at the time. The smiles in the office and the pats on the back and all the lovely drinks I wouldn’t have to pay for that night.

I’m confused, because I’ve slapped it on a plate for him, but maybe he’s just one of those awkward bastards. Every team’s got one.

‘Sorry . . . what do you mean, why?’

He sighs, like he’s just figured out this might take a bit longer than the few minutes I’d promised. ‘OK, a different question, then. How about starting with why you murdered Miss McClure?’

This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. I’m damn sure he knows all of this, but I get it because these days the job is all about ducks in a row, making everything watertight before you take your case to the CPS. A pain in the arse, but you know . . . fine.

So I tell him all those things that his girlfriend had gently suggested as we sat in the sunshine just three days before. Things she would subsequently have passed on to him and that I’d heard from others several times since.

I didn’t want Debbie to get away with killing Kevin.

I wanted to see some kind of justice done.

I couldn’t stand feeling ignored.

I feel a few warning stabs of panic as I’m running through my motives for murder again, so I tell him not to worry if I have to stop for a bit and do some funny breathing. He tells me it’s fine and to take as long as I need, but in the end I just about keep it together. Actually, considering where we are and what I’m telling him, I’m amazed that I’m managing to stay as relatively calm as I am about all this. As matter-of-fact.

I suppose because that’s what it is.

When I’m done, he asks if I’m all right to carry on.

I tell him that I am.