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Back The Man Who Never Was Save as PDF
Chapters (137)
  1. Prologue
  2. I. Tuesday
  3. Tuesday
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. II. Wednesday
  11. Wednesday
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. III. Thursday
  30. Thursday
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. IV. Friday
  46. Friday
  47. 38
  48. 39
  49. 40
  50. 41
  51. 42
  52. V. Saturday
  53. Saturday
  54. 43
  55. 44
  56. 45
  57. 46
  58. 47
  59. 48
  60. VI. Sunday
  61. Sunday
  62. 49
  63. 50
  64. 51
  65. 52
  66. 53
  67. 54
  68. 55
  69. 56
  70. 57
  71. 58
  72. 59
  73. 60
  74. 61
  75. 62
  76. 63
  77. 64
  78. 65
  79. 66
  80. 67
  81. 68
  82. VII. Monday
  83. Monday
  84. 69
  85. 70
  86. 71
  87. 72
  88. 73
  89. 74
  90. 75
  91. 76
  92. 77
  93. 78
  94. 79
  95. 80
  96. 81
  97. 82
  98. 83
  99. 84
  100. 85
  101. 86
  102. 87
  103. 88
  104. 89
  105. 90
  106. 91
  107. 92
  108. VIII. Tuesday
  109. Tuesday
  110. 93
  111. 94
  112. 95
  113. 96
  114. 97
  115. 98
  116. 99
  117. 100
  118. 101
  119. 102
  120. 103
  121. 104
  122. 105
  123. 106
  124. 107
  125. 108
  126. 109
  127. 110
  128. 111
  129. 112
  130. Epilogue
  131. Afterword
  132. Get Exclusive John Milton Material
  133. Also By Mark Dawson
  134. In the John Milton Series
  135. In the Beatrix Rose Series
  136. In the Isabella Rose Series
  137. About Mark Dawson

Jackson saw a Ford Galaxy parked at the side of road, wheels half on and half off the kerb. He slowed, flicked the indicator, and went around it, glaring at the driver as he did. The man behind the wheel held his eye and, for a moment—and without any idea why—Jackson felt a little tremble of discomfort. He cleared the obstruction, put his foot down again and accelerated away.

He was looking forward to getting to the restaurant and then, after dinner, the club. He had a lot to celebrate.

III. Thursday

Part III

Thursday

24

Anthony Jackson was woken by the ringing of his phone. He tried to ignore it and, after another half dozen rings, it fell silent as the call diverted to voicemail. He closed his eyes and sank back into his pillow again. It had been another late night, fuelled by the blow that had been delivered yesterday, and it had taken him longer than he would have liked to get to sleep. In the end, he had taken two zopiclone to try to counteract the buzz of the coke, and, when that had not worked, he had added a Valium from a bottle that had Vanessa’s name on it. But he still felt hollowed out.

The phone rang again. He reached for it and took the call. “What?” he said, putting the phone on speaker and holding it in the rough vicinity of his mouth.

“It’s me, boss,” McMahon said.

“It’s early, Frankie,” he groaned.

“I’m sorry. It’s important.”

“What is it?”

“On the phone, boss? You said not to do that.”

He gritted his teeth with frustration even as he knew McMahon was right. “No details, then, Frankie. Just say yes or no. Something’s wrong with the delivery?”

“No. That’s all just like it ought to be.”

Jackson felt relief and then, without the sickening fear that something bad had happened, the irritation at being awoken so early returned. “So what is it?”

“It’s Dessie O’Sullivan,” he said. “He needs to speak to you. I know what he wants and it has to be in person. Can’t be like this. I’m sorry.”

Jackson rolled over, scrubbed one big paw across his face, and grunted with the exertion of sitting up. “Fine. I’ll be there as soon as I can. And, Frankie?”

“Yes, boss.”

“I’m telling you, this had better be good.”

25