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
Connecting, she identified herself with, ‘Sally speaking.’
‘Hi, Sally. It’s Barney. Do you have time to speak briefly?’
‘I’m early. I’ve got time.’
‘The TV appeal worked a treat. I don’t want to distract you, but we’ve got the kid in the white van in custody. His name’s Robin Wren and his father walked him in here. We’ve had a lot of calls identifying him as Robin Wren.’
‘Is he talking?’
‘No, but his father is. The kid’s denying it’s him in the van. If that’s the truth, he must have a doppelganger.’
‘Has the father any idea who the driver was?’
‘His name’s Edgar McKee. They work together in the Stanley Abattoir on East Prescot Road in Old Swan.’
‘Have we got a home address for McKee?’
‘Flat 6, 199 Moscow Drive. Winters is on his way over there right now with a search warrant and a couple of shooters for backup.’
‘What’s the kid like?’
‘He’s as bright as a button but he’s extremely autistic. His father says that when he gets something locked in his head, he’s almost impossible to break.’
‘Where is Wren junior at the moment?’
‘He’s in the cells.’
‘Keep me posted up until eight but after that communicate any developments to Bill Hendricks.’
Clay walked on along the back of the Echo Arena and watched people pouring in to see an American stadium rock band.
She took in the city skyline, the two cathedrals illuminated by powerful uplighters, the Albert Dock close to her left and mirrored in the surface of the water at its base.
She recalled the footage of Annie Boyd walking away from the padlocked railings, her head down, and imagined what must have been running through her mind.
I’ve been stood up by a man I’ve never met before because I am worthless and unattractive, and nothing can change that.
Behind her, Clay heard footsteps and sensed the presence of someone following her. She stopped and let the stranger past, a bald man in his thirties who said, ‘Excuse me.’
‘I’m sorry? I didn’t catch that,’ she checked.
He looked back over his shoulder and said, ‘I said, excuse me.’
He didn’t sound anything like the man who called himself Geoff Campbell.
She looked towards the padlocked railings and saw that there was a group of older men and women there but no police officers, an observation that unsettled her for a moment. The group was approached by Riley and Clay’s unease was dissipated.
She checked the time – 7.31.
Clay called her husband on her iPhone and, three rings in, she heard his voice.
‘Eve? Where are you?’
‘I’m at the Albert Dock. It’s freezing.’
‘What’s it like?’