BooksBarbecue
Back The Hanging Club Save as PDF
Chapters (49)
  1. About the Book
  2. About the Author
  3. Also by Tony Parsons
  4. Title Page
  5. Dedication
  6. Epigraph
  7. Prologue
  8. Part One
  9. 1
  10. 2
  11. 3
  12. 4
  13. 5
  14. 6
  15. 7
  16. 8
  17. 9
  18. 10
  19. 11
  20. 12
  21. 13
  22. Part Two
  23. 14
  24. 15
  25. 16
  26. 17
  27. 18
  28. 19
  29. 20
  30. 21
  31. 22
  32. 23
  33. 24
  34. 25
  35. Part Three
  36. 26
  37. 27
  38. 28
  39. 29
  40. 30
  41. 31
  42. 32
  43. 33
  44. 34
  45. 35
  46. 36
  47. 37
  48. Author’s Note
  49. Copyright

‘You know me better than anyone,’ he said. ‘You want some Phad Thai noodles? Best this side of Bangkok.’

I stared at him for a moment and then smiled back at him.

‘Some Phad Thai would be great,’ I said.

But I never got the chance to try Jackson’s Phad Thai noodles. We were under the black arches of Waterloo when my phone began to vibrate.

EDIE WREN CALLING.

‘They’ve got another one,’ she said.

And I did not need to turn my head to know that Jackson was watching me, his face impassive, not smiling now.

20

I came into MIR-1 thirty minutes later and saw the big HD TV screen was filled with a head-and-shoulders shot of a bearded man.

The beard was the frizzy kind that is missing a moustache. The man who wore it was light-skinned, pushing forty, with a small pillbox hat perched on his head and hooded eyes behind wire-rimmed spectacles. He wore plain grey robes.

‘The victim of the latest abduction is Abu Din,’ Pat Whitestone was saying. Edie Wren, Billy Greene and Tara Jones watched her from their workstations. They must have renewed Tara’s contract, I thought, with a stab of elation.

‘Abu Din was born in Egypt and granted asylum in the UK,’ Whitestone continued. ‘He is wanted for inciting acts of terror in the United States but currently resisting extradition from the UK. His appeal is pending at the European Court of Human Rights.’ She nodded. ‘Pretty much your basic hate-preaching scumbag.’

‘You back?’ I said.

‘I’m back.’

‘Good,’ I said. ‘I can’t find the Abu Din hanging online.’

‘They haven’t hanged him yet,’ Edie Wren said. ‘Or at least they haven’t put anything online.’

Billy Greene brought me a triple espresso and I smiled at him gratefully. It wasn’t from the Bar Italia, but it would do for now. I bolted it down in one.

‘What have they posted about him?’ I said.

‘Nothing that we can find on any of the usual platforms,’ Edie told me. ‘We’ve got an open line to Colin Cho at the Police Central e-crime Unit. The abduction is generating a lot of traffic. PCeU are on it. But Albert Pierrepoint himself is unusually silent.’

‘How do we know it’s them?’ I said. ‘They could be copycats. They could be self-radicalised. There are enough people out there who feel like they are on their side. How do we know it’s the Hanging Club?’

‘Educated guess,’ said Whitestone. ‘We’ve got CCTV of Abu Din being lifted. They’re far too slick to be fan boys. Have a look at this, Max. Can you run it, Billy?’