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
‘You like watching films, don’t you, Edgar?’ asked Clay. ‘We’re going to show you a sequence of CCTV films that have been edited together of your journey from Old Swan to Allerton and then back to Gateacre. Before you watch it, I’m going to give you a potted account of that journey. You drove from the abattoir to Queens Drive. You proceeded to the footpath via Allerton Road. You drove to Heath Road and Mather Avenue after you’d stopped at the footpath. You made your way up to Menlove Avenue. Up to Woolton Park and down to Gateacre.’
Clay turned her laptop round, pressed play and drilled her eyes into Edgar McKee’s face as he watched the CCTV footage of his van travelling around South Liverpool. He was deadpan but Clay noticed a sound under the table. A slow, heavy rhythm of a foot tapping against the floor of the interview suite.
‘You recognise your van? The journey you went on with Robin Wren?’
‘Yes.’
‘You can say “no comment” at any point in the interview. I did advise you to do so,’ said his solicitor.
‘Only guilty people say “no comment”. I’ve got nothing to hide…’
Seeing that he was giving nothing away in his face or eyes, Clay noticed his hands, the thickness of his fingers, the bulging veins and the network of faded freckles beneath the forest of stunted ginger hairs.
‘All done?’ Clay turned her laptop round. ‘Anything to say, Edgar?’
‘Yes. So what?’
His solicitor ripped a piece of paper from her pad and slid it along the table to him. He read it.
‘Yes,’ said Edgar. ‘It puts me at the place where a body was dumped. But how many vehicles go past the top of the footpath at the Menlove Avenue end and the Allerton Road end at the bottom? Get real, all of you. I was one of thousands.’ He pointed at Clay with a look of pure moral outrage, jabbed his index finger at her and said, ‘You’re clutching at straws and you know it.’
‘No, I’m not clutching at straws, Edgar. I’ve got you down to the last full stop. Put your finger down, it makes you look petulant.’
‘Go no comment, Mr McKee. Really.’ McKee looked at his solicitor. ‘You’ve gone above and beyond being co-operative in this situation and it’s not doing you any favours. You’ve made a salient point about the volume of traffic in and around the Allerton footpath. These two officers are gunning for you. Trust me. I’ve seen it many times in this police station.’
‘Bent coppers. No comment it is then.’
‘Thank you for that, Ms Davis. It’s advice for sure, but it’s bad advice,’ said Clay. ‘Edgar…’
‘It’s Mr McKee to you, Clay.’