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
‘There was nothing there, Edgar. Certainly no white van. Nothing. What do you say to that?’
‘Was there any sign of tampering to the lock or damage to the door?’ asked Edgar McKee.
‘No.’
‘Where’s the van, Edgar?’ Hendricks waded in.
‘I really don’t know.’ He looked thoughtful as his fists tightened on the table. ‘I can only assume two things here. One. Someone’s managed to open the lock-up and steal the van. Two. Your colleagues have removed the van in an attempt to stitch me up.’
‘Do you really believe that we’re living in the year 1973, Edgar?’ Hendricks sounded in a place between disbelief and amusement. ‘We’ve got a lot of people out there looking for your van. Why don’t you cut yourself some slack and tell us where it is?’
‘If I knew where it was I’d tell you, because of the complete lack of forensic evidence linking me to these murders.’
‘The way it looks at the moment, Edgar, you’re concealing a massive piece of evidence linking you to multiple murders. What were you doing on the footpath between Allerton Towers and Allerton Manor Golf Course late in the afternoon on Wednesday 1st December?’
‘I was taking Wren home. He was going on about a fictional superhero of his own making. It was pouring down with rain. The traffic was a nightmare. I saw three near crashes. I told him to be quiet so I could concentrate on driving, but that I’d take him some place where I’d park up and he’d tell me about Captain Cyclone. The lad’s father is my line manager in the abattoir and had just thrust his son under my wing. I wanted to get the relationship off to a good start but I couldn’t drive safely and listen to him waffling on.’
McKee looked sideways at his solicitor, who kept her head down and made notes in a spiral-bound book.
‘That’s not how Wren’s telling it,’ said Clay.
‘How’s he telling it?’
‘Wren’s version of events has you taking him there from the abattoir.’
‘The thing I don’t get is this,’ said Hendricks. ‘You work in Old Swan. Wren lives in Gateacre. Wouldn’t the most obvious route from the Swan to Gateacre be to go down Queens Drive and get into Gateacre through the Childwall district? The footpath in Allerton is nowhere near there, not even for a diversion as you call it. Especially on a day when you said you’d seen three near crashes.’
‘I just took him there because it was quiet and he told me he was enjoying the ride.’