Lifeless

Mark Billingham
Prologue

January 12

I won’t waste any time asking how you’ve been, because I know, and I don’t much care. I’m sure you care even less about me, plus you’d have to be stupid not to figure out that things have been less than rosy for some of us. You’d have to be stupid (which I know you’re not), not to work out what I want.

I don’t think I’m better than you. How could I? But I’m guessing you’re a bit better off. So that’s basically why I’m asking. I just need a bit of help. I don’t have a lot left aside from unpleasant memories. Oh, and the one, more concrete reminder of course. The “evidence” that I’m sure each of us still has.

I can’t afford to care how despicable it makes me sound, having to come to you like this. Desperation drives a steamroller across self-respect. Besides, you could never hate me more than I hate myself for what happened back there. For dredging it all up again now in search of a few hundred quid.

That’s all I need…

You’ll notice a lack of address. I’m not being mysterious; I just don’t really have one at the moment. I’m busy wearing out the welcomes of what few friends and family I’ve got left.

I’ll write again to fix up the where and when. We can arrange a time and place to meet then, okay?

Anonymity is all very well, of course, all very James Bond, but unless you’ve been keeping tabs on each of us, I can’t see why you should have a bloody clue who I am. Which one, I mean. You’ll find out soon enough, obviously, but it can’t hurt to keep the suspense going for a bit, can it?

Could be any one of four, right? Any member of the crew. I’d be amazed if a single one of us is particularly well-off.

So… for now,

Happy New Year