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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

‘You’re a top bloke, Banksy.’ I walked to the door, waited for him to follow. ‘But you’re not my dad.’

A minute later, while we were standing at the airlock waiting for someone to let him out, he said, ‘I saw Mags the other night.’ Like it had just popped into his head.

‘OK.’ I could feel something jumping inside and was trying not to let it show in my voice. ‘How’s she doing?’

Maggie was Johnno’s girlfriend.

Five months pregnant when he died.

As pregnant as she was ever going to get, as it turned out.

‘Yeah, she’s all right,’ Banksy said. ‘She was asking after you.’

That didn’t help things and I was grateful when I saw Mia coming with the keys. ‘You all done?’ she asked, a little more chipper than usual.

‘Yeah, we’re done,’ I said.

Banksy gave me a big hug before he stepped into the airlock, and when he was inside with Mia, signing out and waiting to go through the second door, I pressed my palm against the window, then kissed the glass, pretending to cry like we were lovers saying a final goodbye or something.

It made him laugh and he stuck two fingers up.

As soon as he was gone, I checked my watch then went back to my room to make a call. That calmed me down a bit, knowing I’d be sorted before very long. Then I went to get my dinner.

ELEVEN

ELEVEN

It was just a regular house call, that’s all. An everyday ACTION as part of an ongoing sexual assault case that involved talking to everyone on the local sex-offenders register. Run-of-the-mill stuff. Obviously, though, no story like this – no once-in-a-career tragedy – ever starts with ‘we were on the trail of a vicious, chainsaw-wielding serial killer’, does it, because then you’d know how it was going to turn out.

There’d be no surprise.

You look ahead. I said that earlier, didn’t I? You try to prepare for all eventualities, but no amount of preparation or due diligence or just bog-standard keeping your wits about you is going to help when life just turns round, says ‘bad luck, mate’ and gobs in your face.

Turns the world upside down.

Turns you into somebody else.

The somebody Johnno and I were looking for that morning was not at home, but his flatmate seemed happy enough to let us in and answer a few questions. It was a flat above an electrical shop in Mile End and, from the doorway, it looked nice enough. Nicer than we were expecting, anyway.

Not too much of a shithole and we’d visited plenty of them the previous few days.