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
‘He’s my mate, I’m his mate. He told me you’d try to twist things.’
‘I’m not trying to twist anything. I’m trying to work out what really happened and weed out what hasn’t happened.’
Clay turned the laptop around in front of Wren.
‘So, Edgar’s your mate?’ asked Hendricks. Wren stared at the screen and said nothing. ‘Because he’s your mate you’re not telling us what happened when he parked up on the footpath.’
Clay watched Wren closely.
‘I’m going to tell you what I think happened when you were on the footpath,’ said Hendricks. ‘I think Edgar got out of the van.’
Clay watched Wren look away and his hand rise to his face briefly.
‘I think he told you to stay in the van and went away for some time. I think he told you to keep looking ahead, to guard the van and not to get out.’
Wren’s eyes dithered and Clay watched the mounting discomfort in the young man’s face.
‘I think when Edgar got back to the van, he was out of breath and sweating even though it was a particularly cold afternoon.’
‘What do you say, Wren? Is DS Hendricks coming close to the truth?’ asked Clay.
‘I don’t know.’
‘At some point, Wren, you’re going to have to tell the truth,’ said his father. ‘Do it now, rather than later.’
Wren looked at Mr Robson. ‘Your father’s right. Listen to him.’
‘As a matter of interest, would he ever say bad things about you, your mate, Edgar McKee?’ asked Clay.
‘Of course he wouldn’t say anything bad about me. He came here to rescue me. That’s why he’s in the cells. It’s my fault he’s in this pickle.’
‘It’s not your fault, Wren. You’re quite certain he wouldn’t say anything bad about you?’ Clay held his gaze.
‘I’m certain he wouldn’t.’
‘I’d like you to watch and listen carefully to a short sequence of film. It’s Edgar McKee being interviewed in the same room you’re sitting in now.’ She pointed out the CCTV camera aimed at him. ‘Do you want to see and hear? Then look at the screen of my laptop.’
Clay leaned over and pressed play.
‘How are you feeling, Mr McKee?’ Her own voice sounded ghostly as it drifted from the laptop.
‘How do you mean?’
‘Coming back to more recent times. As in yesterday. Wren asked you how you were?’
‘He’s autistic. He’s random.’
‘Turn it off,’ said Wren.
His father grabbed his hand and said, ‘Watch and listen!’
On the laptop, Clay challenged Edgar McKee about his absence from work and the improbability of him engaging in a two-hour sexual marathon while suffering from gastroenteritis.
‘Listen to what he said about you, Wren.’