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
He laughed out loud at the memory of his adolescent self and Clay waited for him to turn and look at her in the silence.
‘Karl, you’re the only person who hasn’t told me not to go on a date with The Ghoul. Do you have anything to say on the matter or do I just take your deafening silence at face value?’
‘I’ve been in an incredibly dangerous situation with you, Eve. When we were tracking down Adam Miller in the bell tower of the Anglican cathedral. Remember?’
‘God, yes.’
‘When I was knocked unconscious and you covered my back. I could have ended up as a box of ashes on the shelf in my ma’s front room but I didn’t. I’ve got every confidence in you. And this time, it’s my chance to cover your back if anything does go wrong. We need to catch this fucker before he does any damage to Francesca Christie, and you’re the woman to lead from the front. End of. My silence was a vote of confidence. I’ll be on the waterfront with you, and I’ll be carrying a loaded gun. Get the bastard but, know this, you’re not on your own.’
Clay looked at the time on her dashboard, felt the stirrings of emotion and humility and snapped herself out of it.
‘Nine-thirty, time’s marching on. I need to get back to Trinity Road. Gina’s got a phone call coming and I need to sit in on it.’
66
9.30 am
Wren paced in his father’s cupboard-sized office, three steps to the window, three steps to the door, wishing he could summon up that final flake of rage and transform himself into Captain Cyclone.
‘Where are you? Where are you? Where are you?’
He stopped at the window, watched as a lorry backed in to the arrivals depot, heard the lowing of a truckload of cattle as the doomed cows edged closer to the clamps, saws and knives that awaited them, wondering no doubt, he thought, where their fields had gone to and why the barn that had housed them in the dark country night since they were calves had suddenly disappeared.
‘Where are you? Moo, moo, moo!’
The door opened and Wren froze as his father squeezed into the cramped space.
‘Where is he?’ nagged Wren.
‘Calm down, Wren. Deep breathing, remember.’
Wren made a show of breathing deeply but it did nothing to calm the red-hot ball in his stomach and the jagged spike of ice that pierced his heart.
His father threw the only chair in the room in front of Wren and ordered, ‘Sit down!’
‘Where is he? Where’s Edgar?’
‘Sit down!’