Read Online We Are the Hanged Man by Douglas Lindsay - Free Book Online

the country, seventeen deaths that the police are currently looking into as unexplained, potentially suspicious or at the very least, not obviously due to natural causes. Can't rule out the possibility that we're dealing with someone in a position to murder someone so that it looks like natural causes, but that's obviously going to open up another enormous can of shit, so you know…'
    'What have we got?' said Jericho again. 'Start with the West Country.'
    Haynes looked down at his notebook. He'd already organised the deaths geographically.
    'There's a forty-three-year-old died of a heart attack in his bed on Saturday night. Outskirts of Bath.'
    'What did the investigating officer think?'
    'They're looking into it because it's kind of weird, and there has to be a post mortem 'cause the fellow wasn't in the heart attack demographic and he seemed healthy enough, but…… ultimately he thinks it was just a freak event. One of those weird medical things that crops up. He'll let me know if anything comes up.'
    'Who was the guy?'
    'Stuart Westlake, plumber. Didn't seem to work much.'
    'Part-time plumber?'
    'Part-time plumber. Married, separated, no kids. Played football on a Sunday morning.'
    'OK, better keep on top of that one. Could be the kind of thing we're looking for. What's next?'
    'Fight on Saturday night in the middle of Bristol.'
    'There was a fight on Saturday night in the middle of Bristol?' said Jericho, a rare excursion into dry humour.
    'Witnessed by a couple of officers. Couple of drunks, one of them smashed a bottle and chibbed the other bloke. Got him in the neck. Bled to death before the ambulance arrived.'
    'And the attacker?'
    'Legged it.'
    And would never be found. Jericho hadn't even seen the murder mentioned on the local news; which was because it just wasn't news any more. Society has come to expect fights in city centres in the middle of the night, once the bars and clubs have spewed forth their detritus of the evening. It was no one's news.
    'Who was the victim?'
    Another glance at the notebook.
    'Oliver Davis, early twenties. Last year of studying history at Bristol. No immediate family, but has distant relatives… they seem reasonably wealthy. Just got back to Bristol having spent Christmas with them in London.'
    'How's that one looking?'
    'Bit early to say case closed, but, you know…. Two drunks fighting after a night on the piss. The guys in Bristol, you know, they're not getting anywhere. Where is there to go?'
    'Isn't there CCTV?'
    'It was a guy in a hood. Seems to have kept his face covered the whole time.'
    Haynes looked into Jericho's eyes, hesitated. Jericho raised his eyebrows.
    'A guy takes the time to make sure his face is covered, presumably even before he got in a fight. And he was drunk? That doesn't strike you as odd?'
    'Now that you say it.'
    'Check that one out, we need more detail. What else?'
    'Car crash in Cornwall, a couple of teenagers died.'
    Jericho nodded. He'd heard that one on the news.
    'That's it for around here?'
    'Next closest is a car crash in Hampshire. Family of four.'
    Jericho nodded. He'd seen that one too. Car crash deaths make the news. They are everyman deaths. There's not one of us doesn't go in a car on a regular basis; car crashes could affect us all. Drunks fighting at two in the morning, however, was the territory of the young and the hot-headed, the foolish and under-educated, not the middle class who watched the Ten O'Clock News.
    'That one was a little odd,' said Haynes. 'The car burned up.'
    'It exploded?'
    That hadn't been on the news.
    'They're investigating. There was a fire, the fuel burned up. No one got out the car, so they're assuming they all died beforehand, or were trapped in the car.'
    'Was it part of a movie?'
    'What?'
    'Cars don't usually burn up because they drive off the road.'
    He shook his head.
    'This isn't getting us very far. Shit.'
    Haynes looked back at his notes.
    'There's a woman in Hownsl—'
    'Trouble is,' said Jericho, 'if you