The Hangman’s Hold: A gripping serial killer thriller that will keep you hooked
Your life is in his hands.In the gripping new serial killer thriller from Michael Wood, Matilda Darke faces a vicious killer pursuing his own brand of lethal justice. Perfect for fans of Angela Marsons and Helen Fields.There’s a killer in your house.The Hangman waits in the darkness.He knows your darkest secrets.He’ll make you pay for all the crimes you have tried desperately to forget.And he is closer than you think.DCI Matilda Darke is running out of time. Fear is spreading throughout the city. As the body count rises, Matilda is targeted and her most trusted colleagues fall under suspicion. But can she keep those closest to her from harm? Or is it already too late?
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First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2018
Copyright © Michael Wood 2018
Cover design by Dominic Forbes © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2018
Cover photograph © Shutterstock.com
Michael Wood asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the authorâs imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Ebook Edition © August 2018 ISBN: 9780008311612
Version: 2018-08-31
To Christopher Schofield
A genuine life saver, a good friend and a huge supporter. He doesnât only support me, but The Asses and Donkeys Trust too. Pomegranate anyone?
Day One
Thursday, 9 March 2017
The pale grey, or the sky-blue tie? The grey one would go with the jacket, but the blue would match the shirt. Maybe no tie at all.
With a sigh, he threw both ties at his reflection in the wardrobe mirror and fell backwards onto the bed behind him. He turned to the alarm clock on the bedside table. The harsh digits in a terrible Day-Glo green, which wouldnât match anything in his wardrobe, told him it was almost six oâclock. He still had time.
He pulled himself up and looked at his tired reflection once more, something heâd been doing quite a lot of in the last couple of weeks.
âLook at the state of you,â he said to himself. âForty-five years old and youâre panicking over what to wear. Itâs a few drinks, thatâs all. Just two people having a drink together. Whereâs the harm in that?â He gazed deep into himself as if expecting an answer. His face was red. There was a sheen of sweat on his forehead and a gleam in his eyes.
Of course, it was more than just a few drinks. It was a date. An actual date. A trial run to see how two people, who, according to a computer seemed ideal for each other, would get on in reality. It was also his first in more than twenty-five years.
Following his divorce, and a long period of adjustment, Brian Appleby had thought heâd been left with a life of singledom, a life dedicated to himself and the things he enjoyed doing. Heâd go on holidays with friends, trips to the theatre, and when he fancied being alone, he could watch a film on the sofa with his feet up and his socks off.
Unfortunately, life hadnât worked out that way. All his friends had abandoned him, as had his family. He could understand that. He would probably have done the same in their position. At first, heâd tried to tell himself he didnât care. Screw them. Yes, heâd made a number of mistakes, but heâd paid his price. Shouldnât he be able to move on and continue with the rest of his life? Why couldnât other people see that? Their loss. If they didnât want him around, heâd find new friends.
That had been easier said than done. New friends were hard to come by; especially when you were a stranger with a past you refused to talk about. Again, he hadnât cared, in the beginning. He enjoyed his own company. But evenings in front of the TV eating pizza and not talking to anyone had soon begun to take its toll. The tipping point had come when heâd walked into Dominoâs and the young girl with greasy hair serving had looked at him and said: âGood evening, Brian. What are you in the mood for tonight?â She knew his name. He knew her name. He knew the name of every member of staff. How far had he fallen that he personally knew the people who worked in his local takeaway? He had quickly ordered and made his escape, returning home to examine the pathetic existence his life had become.
