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
‘I’ve photocopied it. I’ll get the book back to Brian Doherty. He comes over like a pompous shit but he’s really hurting over Richard Ezra. Guess what, Eve?’
‘What?’
He held up the address book and pointed to Norma Maguire’s home address.
‘She lives in the Grassendale Park grid.’
71
11.05 am
Francesca Christie’s mother hurried towards the front door, the ringing of the doorbell drawing her to it like a siren song.
‘Francesca! Is that you, Francesca?’
She reached the front door but there was no reply from behind it.
When she opened the door, her first impression was that there was no one there. She looked down and saw Norma Maguire looking up at her from her wheelchair. On her lap was a large bunch of roses.
‘Can I come in, please?’ asked Norma.
Margaret Christie opened the door wider.
‘If you could just help me over the step, please.’
When Norma wheeled herself inside the house, Margaret slammed the door shut out of sheer disappointment.
‘Follow me. We’ll go into the kitchen at the back, Norma.’
Norma wheeled herself after Francesca’s mother. From the top of the stairs, her sister called, ‘Who is it?’
‘Norma Maguire, Francesca’s boss.’
In the kitchen, Norma handed the roses to Francesca’s mother and said, ‘It’s just to let you know that I’m thinking of you at this extremely difficult time. I know there’s not much I can do but if you think of anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.’
Francesca’s mother stood leaning back against the sink where she’d placed the roses.
‘Thank you for the flowers.’
‘Has there been any news?’
‘Her car was found near Aigburth Vale. The police are certain she’s been taken by the men who’ve been picking off women from internet dating sites.’
‘Men?’
‘It’s not a lone individual, Norma. She was last seen around half-eight last night on CCTV and the police called at just after half-four this morning. In between times, they unlocked her laptop and have drawn certain undeniable conclusions.’
Francesca’s aunt walked into the kitchen, holding a rag doll.
‘You found Kizzy,’ said Francesca’s mother, the ghost of a smile floating beneath the gridlock of terror and anxiety on her face.
‘In the drawer under Francesca’s bed,’ she replied, handing the doll to her sister.
Margaret lifted the doll’s skirt to reveal a frayed manufacturer’s label. ‘Look!’ she said, showing Francesca’s childlike handwriting on the label. ‘She wrote her name so that if Kizzy was lost, whoever found her would know who to send her back to.’
Francesca’s mother looked at Norma. ‘It was Francesca’s favourite doll all through her childhood. She wouldn’t go to sleep without her.’ She clutched the doll to herself tightly. ‘Was there anything going on in work that you noticed, Norma? Anything odd?’