The Jackdaw
The fourth novel in the DI Sean Corrigan series – authentic and terrifying crime fiction with a psychological edge, by an ex-Met detective. Perfect for fans of Mark Billingham, Peter James and Stuart MacBride.Guilty or not guilty?A lone vigilante is abducting wealthy Londoners and putting their fate in the hands of the public. Within hours of disappearing, the victims appear on the internet, bound to a chair in a white room.Revenge or mercy?Their crimes of greed and incompetence are broadcast to the watching thousands who make up the jury. Once the verdict is cast, the man who calls himself ‘The Jackdaw’ will be judge and executioner.Live or die?DI Sean Corrigan and his Special Investigations Unit are under pressure to solve this case fast. But as The Jackdaw’s popularity grows, Corrigan realizes he’s hunting a dangerously clever and elusive adversary – one who won’t stop until his mission is complete.
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Harper
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First published by HarperCollinsPublishers 2015
Copyright © Luke Delaney 2015
Luke Delaney asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers 2015
Photographs © Henry Steadman
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This is entirely a work of fiction. Any references to real people, living or dead, real events, businesses, organizations and localities are intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality and authenticity. All names, characters and incidents are either the product of the authorâs imagination or are used fictitiously, and their resemblance, if any, to real-life counterparts is entirely coincidental.
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Source ISBN: 9780007585717
Ebook Edition © MARCH 2015 ISBN: 9780007585700
Version: 2017-07-14
I dedicate this book to my three kids â DJ, JJ and NB.
To DJ, an inspiration to us all, who has already overcome so many obstacles in such a short life and proved to us all what we can achieve when we show some real grit and determination. A personality the size of the Empire State Building â funny, sometimes a handful, great company, a magnet for other children and always in the centre of the action, DJâs a genuinely unstoppable force of nature. If anyone can make all their dreams come true itâll be this kid.
To JJ, a beautiful and gentle child â the polar opposite of their older sibling. Clever and resourceful, but shy and thoughtful. Bright and independent, but never boastful or bragging â JJ continues to develop into a wonderful young person, doing things their own way, blissfully untouched by convention and the need to be like everyone else, seemingly unaware of their Hollywood good looks and million-dollar smile. JJ grows and grows as a person â happier and happier with each passing day. A very special child.
To NB, known to my wife and I as our little gift. Super smart and fiercely independent, but very cuddly and funny too. Their thirst for knowledge is like something Iâve never seen and long may it last, although everything has to be done their way and watch out anyone who tries to stop them. Thereâs no point in telling NB âitâs the taking part that mattersâ â this kidâs in it to win it. NB is the definition of steely-eyed determination. We already know NB will be anything they want to be.
In many ways my kids are like a flock of jackdaws â intelligent and chatty, brave and loyal to each other â mischievous and inventive â not to mention sometimes troublesome. But weâd have it no other way. You are our everything. So thank you, guys, for all of your awesomeness.
All our love,
Mum and Dad
Contents
The thick hood was pulled from his head and Paul Elkins squeezed his eyes closed tightly against the bright, white light that tried to penetrate his pain and fear, but the agony of the duck-tape being ripped off his mouth fired them open as wide as if he was being electrocuted. As the shock of the pain receded, his eyes blinked the room into focus, his chest heaving with panic as the sweat poured down the sides of his face and back. His arms and legs were bound with more duck-tape to a heavy, old wooden chair that creaked as he struggled, but didnât move. He bucked and kicked in the chair until the futility of his efforts overwhelmed him and drained him of his strength and determination, the desperation of his situation becoming increasingly undeniable.
The details of the room that was now his prison seeped into his consciousness. It was painted entirely white, with portable lamps providing too much light. Sheets of black plastic hung from the walls where he assumed there were windows, so no natural light penetrated the room. In front of him the man whoâd abducted him from the London street in broad daylight stood straight and strong â confident and in control, his face concealed by his black ski-mask and wraparound sunglasses, his hands in black leather gloves, the rest of his clothes also all black. Only his mouth was partially visible, slightly obscured by a tiny microphone held in place by a head-strap and connected to two black boxes attached to his chest â one about the size of a hardback book, the other the size of a cigarette packet. The man didnât speak. Behind him a foldable table stretched out â upon it a collection of laptops, cameras, phones and other equipment Elkins didnât recognize, all of which were connected to a portable electricity generator.
