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
‘Oliver Brown, CCTV4U. She called us to hurry up on the footage you sent us.’ He sounded like a busy man who was just about at the end of his tether. ‘I was ringing to inform her that I’ve emailed the cleaned-up footage to her.’
‘I haven’t got access to Gina Riley’s laptop. Can you do me a favour, Oliver? Can you email the footage to my laptop and I can distribute the images to DCI Clay and the rest of the team.’
He told Oliver his email address.
‘No problem.’
‘And thank you for doing such a swift job.’
‘We’d have had it to you sooner but the quality wouldn’t have been as good as it is now. I’ll resend it to you right now.’
Before Cole could reply, Oliver hung up.
As he returned to his desk, he called Clay and, when she connected, he heard immediately that she was in her car.
‘Eve, we’ve got the cleaned-up CCTV footage of the white van leaving the Amanda Winton body drop-off.’
‘What’s it like, Barney?’
‘I don’t know yet, I’m opening my emails now. OK.’ He counted to five as he cued up the footage. ‘I’m watching. Oh, that’s great. Where it was overcast and grainy, the footage is much brighter and clearer. The white van’s coming away from the footpath and turning left to make it into Heath Road. It’s coming closer to the old lady’s house, it’s about to draw level with her CCTV camera. Jeez, I’m pausing it on the image of the passenger.’
‘What’s he like?’
‘It’s a male. Eighteen or nineteen years of age. Blond hair. White. Thin face with a prominent nose and forehead. I’m looking directly at him because, as the van pulled level with the CCTV, bingo, right on cue, he looks left directly at the camera. He’s not your run of the mill teenager. He looks like there’s something not quite right about him.’
‘That’s one way of putting it, Barney. Anything on the driver?’
‘We couldn’t see him at all, remember? He’s like a bulky silhouette now. He’s a big man. I can see his hands on the wheel. I can see his forearms, they’re knotted with muscle, and there’s some sort of tattoo just above his left wrist. I’m guessing he’s quite mature, but that’s a guess, Eve.’
‘Anything of his face?’ asked Clay, crossing the fingers of her mind.
‘No, the hands and the forearms, yes, but the rest of him is in shadow. I’m taking it off pause. And watching the van disappear down Heath Road.’
‘I’m pulling over, Barney. Can you send it to me now, please?’
Cole heard the screech of her brakes, clicked on forward and sent the footage to Clay’s iPhone.