Chapters (156)
- A DATE WITH DEATH
- Also by Mark Roberts
- A Date With Death
- Copyright Page
- Contents
- The Past
- 1977
- Day OneWednesday, 1st December 2021CatoptrophobiaFear of mirrors
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10
- 11
- 12
- 13
- 14
- 15
- 16
- 17
- 18
- 19
- 20
- 21
- 22
- 23
- 24
- 25
- 26
- The Past
- 1979
- Day TwoThursday, 2nd December 2021OneirophobiaFear of dreams
- 27
- 28
- 29
- 30
- 31
- 32
- 33
- 34
- 35
- 36
- 37
- 38
- 39
- 40
- 41
- 42
- 43
- 44
- 45
- 46
- 47
- 48
- 49
- 50
- 51
- 52
- The Past
- 1980
- Day ThreeFriday, 3rd December 2021MonophobiaFear of being alone
- 53
- 54
- 55
- 56
- 57
- 58
- 59
- 60
- 61
- 62
- 63
- 64
- 65
- 66
- 67
- 68
- 69
- 70
- 71
- 72
- 73
- 74
- 75
- 76
- 77
- 78
- 79
- 80
- 81
- 82
- 83
- 84
- 85
- 86
- 87
- 88
- 89
- 90
- 91
- 92
- 93
- 94
- 95
- 96
- 97
- 98
- The Past
- 1982
- Day FourSaturday, 4th December 2021ThanatophobiaFear of Death
- 99
- 100
- 101
- 102
- 103
- 104
- 105
- 106
- 107
- 108
- 109
- 110
- 111
- 112
- 113
- 114
- 115
- 116
- 117
- 118
- 119
- 120
- 121
- 122
- 123
- 124
- 125
- 126
- 127
- 128
- 129
- 130
- 131
- 132
- 133
- 134
- 135
- 136
- 137
- About the Author
- An Invitation from the Publisher
The Ghoul pressed its lips to the roughness of the brick, drank in the moisture of pain and terror.
‘It won’t be long now!’
60
4.35 am
The lights were on in the front room of Francesca Christie’s house when Detective Sergeant Karl Stone arrived at the gate.
Sergeant Samantha Green, family liaison officer, was already there, waiting.
‘Has her body been discovered?’ she asked.
‘No,’ replied Stone. ‘We’re updating Mrs Christie on what we know. Preparing her for the worst.’
He walked up the path and heard the rattle of a milk float travelling away down Hornby Lane, and for a moment, as he pressed the bell, he wanted to swap places with the milkman.
‘Who is it?’ A voice travelled to the front door.
‘Police, Detective Sergeant Karl Stone, and Sergeant Samantha Green, family liaison.’
The door was opened by a woman who looked like she’d been ravaged with anxiety and sorrow.
‘Margaret Christie?’ asked Stone.
‘Yes. Have you found her?’
‘No, I’m sorry.’
‘Bring them in.’ Another woman’s voice came from deeper inside the house.
In Margaret Christie’s living room, Stone sat next to Sergeant Green and made eye contact with Francesca’s mother and aunt.
‘What’s happening?’ asked Francesca’s mother.
‘We’ve looked at Francesca’s online communications with a man posing as James Griffiths and the language he used when talking to Francesca was almost identical to the words used with other women who went missing.’
The two sisters looked at each other, and dread clashed with terror.
‘We’ve seen footage of Francesca at the Albert Dock. It looks like he didn’t show up at the allotted place and time. He’s done this before. Francesca went off the CCTV radar at around twenty-five to nine…’
‘Oh God, no…’ Margaret Christie fell forward suddenly, forehead and face on her knees as if she’d been suddenly and completely snapped near the base of her spine. Her sister caressed her back and whispered, ‘It’s not over yet. We still have hope.’
‘Based on previous cases, Francesca’s got some time on her side,’ said Stone.
‘How long?’ asked Francesca’s aunt as her mother sobbed a fresh wave of unbridled tears.
‘Days. We’re pretty certain we’ve located a geographic area in South Liverpool where we think Francesca is being held captive. We’re working round the clock to locate her. We have CCTV footage of a man we’re keen to question. His image is going to be extensively circulated in the media.’
‘There’s more than one of them?’
‘Yes, we believe there’s more than one.’
The horror in Francesca’s aunt’s face reached breaking point.
‘I have to say there was no sign whatsoever,’ said Sergeant Green, ‘of any sexual violation with the previous victims.’
Mrs Christie uncurled slowly.