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
‘As soon as we learn anything new, we’ll be in touch with you immediately. We are doing our best, I promise you,’ said Stone. ‘Samantha will stay with you, and if you want to get a message to us or you remember anything that may help, tell Samantha and she’ll pass it on to us.’
Stone walked to the front door with a monumental silence at his back.
Leaving the house, he heard the oncoming rattle of the milk float and a cat yowling in the dark as he headed towards Druid’s Cross Road.
His iPhone buzzed with an incoming message.
CLAY
Francesca Christie’s black Vauxhall Corsa has been discovered near the gates to Otterspool Park, just off Aigburth Road. It’s in our garage at the Speke Industrial Estate.
He walked back up the path, wondering what words he was going to use to deliver the latest grim news.
An owl sang in the sky as night slowly uncoiled to dawn.
In the imminent grip of violent death, the rhythm and music of life rolled on.
61
6.01 am
Her brain and body wanted nothing more than to shut down and fall into a deep sleep, but this was one compulsion that Clay knew she had to ignore.
She looked at the cup from which she’d consumed several strong coffees and wondered if she was only imagining Gina Riley walking towards her across the incident room from the corner of her eye.
Clay turned to look closely and saw that Riley was lost between deep agitation and raw excitement, carrying her open laptop towards her. She remained deadpan but guessed what Riley was going to say next.
‘I think we’ve got a hit from The Ghoul,’ said Riley.
‘Are you sure?’ asked Clay.
Riley looked like she was in need of a forty-eight-hour lie-in and Clay questioned the wedge in her own brain that was too keen to believe her friend and colleague was right.
‘On the profile I posted as Sally Haydn.’
Riley placed her laptop in front of Clay.
‘He’s had Francesca Christie for nine to ten hours,’ said Clay, clawing back information from his most previous pattern. ‘He had Annie Boyd and Amanda Winton together in a five-day window, Annie first in, Amanda next day. He must have loved every minute of it and now he’s looking for company for Francesca.’
Clay read the opening sentences in response to Riley’s coy bait.