- Hardcover: 352 pages
- Publisher: Hodder & Stoughton General Division; 1 edition (13 February 2018)
- Language: English
- ISBN-10: 9781473657373
- ISBN-13: 978-1473657373
- ASIN: 1473657377
- Product Dimensions: 15.8 x 4 x 23.8 cm
- Boxed-product Weight: 621 g
- Average Customer Review: 3 customer reviews
- Amazon Bestsellers Rank: 105,832 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
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London Rules: Jackson Lamb Thriller 5 Hardcover – 13 Feb 2018
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From the Publisher
Mick Herron's first Jackson Lamb novel, Slow Horses, was described as the 'most enjoyable British spy novel in years' by the Mail on Sunday and picked as one of the best twenty spy novels of all time' by the Daily Telegraph. The second, Dead Lions, won the 2013 CWA Goldsboro Gold Dagger. The third, Real Tigers, was shortlisted for the Theakston's Old Peculier Crime Novel of the Year, and both the CWA Goldsboro Gold Dagger and the CWA Ian Fleming Steel Dagger. The fourth, Spook Street, was shortlisted for the Gold Dagger and won the Steel Dagger. London Rules is the fifth.
Mick Herron was born in Newcastle upon Tyne, and now lives in Oxford.
London Rules might not be written down, but everyone knows rule one. Cover your arse.
Claude Whelan is learning this the hard way. Tasked with protecting a beleaguered prime minister, he's facing attack from the MP who orchestrated the Brexit vote, a tabloid columnist who's crucifying him in print, and worst of all his own deputy, Lady Di Taverner.
Meanwhile, the country's being rocked by an apparently random string of terror attacks, and someone's trying to kill Roddy Ho.
'The new spy master' –Evening Standard
'Herron is spy fiction's great humorist, mixing absurd situations with sparklingly funny dialogue and elegant, witty prose' –The Times
'Herron draws his readers so fully into the world of Slough House that the incautious might find themselves slipping between the pages and transformed from reader to spook' –Irish Times
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“Eight months of anger f*ing management sessions, and this evening she’d officially be declared anger free. It had been hinted she might even get a badge. That could be a problem – if anyone stuck a badge on her, they’d be carrying their teeth home in a hankie. . .”
More of Herron’s trademark humour, off-beat characters, and action in and around London. Plus his wonderful mood setting where the weather and the time of day become their own characters. I love this part of his style.
This fifth book in the series isn’t dependent on the first four, but readers who haven’t met Jackson Lamb or the others before are less likely to enjoy the interaction between characters. Lamb is unique. Often drunk, living in a cloud of cigarette smoke, and more of a bear than a lamb.
“The smoke from his cigarette was a blue-grey spiral, but broke into rags when it hit the ceiling. Still daylight outside, barely evening yet, but Lamb punched his own clock, and won on a technical knockout.”
Roddy Ho, who self-identifies as “The Rodster”, is the pivot-point for this instalment. He is an IT whiz who thinks he’s a lady-killing Mr Cool because he has a "girlfriend", Kim, whom we met in Spook Street. We know she’s been using him for wiping credit card debt and such while holding out the promise of a loving relationship eventually– just not “yet”. This time, we meet her people.
The book opens with an attack in a village that sounds like it’s in the middle of a war zone. Herron moves us between the attackers, the Slough House crew, the real spy headquarters at Regent’s Park, and politicians.
I found this slow going for a while and lost interest in some of the characters, but as the plot thickened (sorry, I’m not as inventive as Herron), I enjoyed it like the others in the series. I particularly enjoyed seeing more of J.K. Coe, the deadly newcomer to Slough House.
“And as for J. K. Coe, Catherine recognised a hand grenade when she saw one. And she didn’t think his pin was fitted too tight.”
In Spook Street, Coe’s was the final act in a
“. . . series of events so painfully compromising to the intelligence services as a whole that – as Lamb had observed – it had put the ‘us’ in ‘clusterf***’, leaving Regent’s Park with little choice but to lay a huge carpet over everything and sweep Slough House under it.”
Poor old Regent’s Park isn’t going to be any happier about this series of events either, especially as the finger of suspicion begins pointing in their direction. But Lamb warns against alerting them yet.
“‘Yeah, but before committing Hare Krishna, let’s see if we’ve got wiggle room when it comes to assigning blame.’
Lamb is such an unseemly character (grubby slob, often drunk, bitingly insulting), that the higher-ups wish they could get rid of him. But they can’t,
“Because I have so much dirt on you, I’ve started an allotment.’
The question is asked.
“‘Is he like this all the time?’
‘I expect so,’ said Catherine. ‘I don’t work weekends.’”
I can answer that. YES. Yes, he is. But he’s smart and clever and surprisingly nimble when the need arises. An unlikely saviour, if ever there was one.
This latest book speaks of Brexit and Trump, and we have politicians in the line of fire, but the focus of the plot is finding the person or group who perpetrated the attack on the village. When another event occurs, the usual hermit-like J.K. Coe breaks his silence with a suggested connection which means there’s a mole.
By the end, I was ready for the next book, and judging by a sudden brief phone call to River Cartwright (the main character in previous books), there must be one in the works. I hope so.
Thanks to NetGalley and Hachette – John Murray for the preview copy from which I’ve quoted.
P.S. For anyone who knows London, you might enjoy this lengthy excerpt. I did.
“Noon comes with bells on, because this is London, and London is a city of bells. From its heart to its ragged edges, they bisect the day in a jangle of sound: peals and tinkles and deep bass knells. They ring from steeples and clock towers, from churches and town halls, in an overlapping celebration of the everyday fact that time passes. In the heat, it might almost be possible to see their sound travel, carried on the haze that shimmers in the middle distance. And in time with the bells, other devices strike up: clocks on corners and hanging over jewellers’ premises strike the hour in their staggered fashion, all a little behind or a little ahead of the sun, but always – always – there’s one single moment when all chime together. Or that’s what it would be nice to pretend; that twice a day, around midnight and noon, the city speaks as one. But even if it were true, it would be over in a moment, and the normal cacophony re-establish itself; voices arguing, chiding, consoling and cracking jokes; begging for ice cream, for lovers to return; offering change and seeking endorsement; stumbling over each other in a constant chorus of joy and complaint, bliss and treachery; of big griefs, small sorrows, and unexpected delight. Every day is like this one: both familiar and unique. Today, like tomorrow, is always different, and always the same.”
Still on the wagon, Catherine Standish mops up after Lamb while also monitoring the psychological temperature of their reduced number, in particular: grief over those recently lost, the effect of (now-drug-free for 62 days!) Shirley Dander’s anger management course, the stability of the ever-silent, traumatised Coe, River’s concerns for the O.B., and Roddy Ho’s continuing over-inflated belief in his own popularity.
Meanwhile, in the real world, a terrorist attack on a Derbyshire village leaves twelve dead, a pipe bomb at a zoo has a similar death toll, and the discovery of a bomb on a train averts another potential disaster. As Regent’s Park searches for terrorists, First Desk Claude Whelan also has to cope with the PM’s demands for certain background checks, an MP with PM ambitions, the MP’s tabloid journalist wife and of course, his Second Desk, Lady Di Taverner, who has designs on his job.
When there’s an attempt on Roddy Ho’s life, the slow horses are at first incredulous, then puzzled. Coe seldom contributes, but when he does open his mouth, it’s worth listening, even if Lamb’s sharp mind is already a long way towards figuring it out. And once again, the slow horses are out on an op. Apart from a generous helping of snappy dialogue, fists, knees, elbows, a wrench, a knife, a coat-hanger, guns, a bottle of bleach, and a tin of paint come into play.
As always, Jackson Lamb is rude, inappropriate, sharp and sly. He has a lot of fun with addressing the unfortunately-named Devon Welles. This instalment sees the first of the London Rules, “cover your arse” adhered to by many players, and ultimately, Ho maintains his oblivion regards the general opinion of his appeal. The idea that “…Lamb will go to any lengths to protect a joe, but would watch in mild amusement if the rest of the world hanged itself” is soundly reinforced.
Herron’s plot is imaginative but easily believable, with the odd twist to keep it interesting; there’s plenty of humour, much of it black, that will have readers snickering, giggling and laughing out loud. This fifth instalment of the series, while it contains some spoilers for earlier books, can easily be read as a stand-alone, but with a series as entertaining as this one, why would you? Another excellent dose of British spy fiction.
Most helpful customer reviews on Amazon.com
All the favourites are back in this fifth novel, although still reeling from the events played out at the end of the previous one. They all have issues which have all helped to land them at Slough House, problems with drugs or alcohol, anger management, difficulty with interpersonal relationships, or ability to follow orders. River Cartwright is the least damaged of the Slow Horses, but even he finds himself in trouble when sent to protect a politician.
The action kicks off with two inexplicable events. A terrorist attack on a small, quiet village in Derbyshire and a failed attempt on the life of Roddy Ho, the Slough House IT specialist. Roddy (self-named "The Rodster") sees himself as God's gift to women. After all, he has a girlfriend called Kim (who is always asking him to do favours, like wiping debt off her credit cards, but always has an excuse for not staying the night with him).
As always, Herron's dialogues are sharp with dark, incisive humour as the Slow Horses encounter a terrorist group almost as inept as themselves and find themselves unofficially operational again. Hugely entertaining and enjoyable, I can only hope their will be many more books to come in this series.
Good bye Nick Herron ,Never more!
This is a tale of a British Secret Intelligence Service operation. It is somewhat Deighton-like in that it is more realistic than fictionalized glam. They are investigating a bizarre series of terrorist attacks. The subject matter is almost irrelevant, compared to how it is presented. Readers do not come away merely being able to describe the characters; you know them better than you do some of your closest relatives. You feel like you’ve worked shoulder to shoulder. The action is continuous at a good clip. The humor is laugh out loud.
Read this at your earliest opportunity