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
‘Not so well.’ She dropped the volume of her voice. ‘The evidence so far says our prime suspect’s the wrong man. Don’t quote me on that just yet. Every part of me says I should believe what I’ve just said is true, but at the same time every part of me says no, I don’t believe that.’
‘You’ve been here before. Trust your instinct. Go with your hunch. Is he a vile fucker?’
‘To quote Shakespeare, yes.’
Across the room, Riley looked in Clay’s direction and held up her right thumb.
‘Thomas, I’m so sorry to cut this short. Something’s just come up.’
‘No worries.’
‘Go into Philip’s room. Kiss him for me. Tell him I love him, even if he is asleep. And I love you.’
‘I love you back.’
‘Goodnight, love.’
Standing, she replaced the receiver and walked over to Riley.
Clay looked at the two screens on Riley’s desk. On one screen was the Home Office computer system, information sharing for all constabularies across the UK, HOLMES. On the other was the National Police Computer.
‘Catriona West, 1940–2001,’ said Riley. ‘There’s not much. The bulk of what we have is from our investigation on Merseyside. She had no criminal convictions and the only references we have to her on both systems relate to her death in 2001. She was the victim of a hit and run, she died on Mather Avenue before the ambulance got there.’
‘Did we pull the driver?’
Riley shook her head.
‘If it’d happened now, we’d have easily pulled the driver with the amount of CCTV out there. She died in the June of 2001. It was only after terrorists flew aeroplanes into the Twin Towers in New York in the September of that year that the West went ape shit about security. Hence, the dawn of the golden age of CCTV.’
‘Is that it?’
‘That’s it. I’ve trawled through the systems for hours looking for some other crumbs. Let’s put it this way. It wasn’t an in-depth investigation because there were no witnesses and no evidence and no realistic chance of catching the driver.’
‘Thank you for trying. Hit and run. Stolen in an instant.’
Clay pulled up the image on her iPhone of Catriona West, taken from her grave.
‘At least we know what happened to you now, Catriona.’
But what’s your link to The Ghoul? Clay asked herself.
97
11.30 pm
Five minutes after Clay outlined her plan to Sergeant Harris, the custody sergeant opened the door of Robin Wren’s cell and Clay found the young man sitting on the bench staring ahead of himself, with a grey blanket over his head and shoulders.
Clay stepped inside the cell and said, ‘Wren, take off your blanket and step this way with me, please.’ He didn’t move. She took the kindness out of her voice and replaced it with iron. ‘Now!’