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
‘Wren, start at the beginning and don’t leave anything out. I get you. In the name of Captain Cyclone, I get you every single step of the way.’
9
10.48 am
DCI Eve Clay stepped back from the doorstep of 358 Melbreck Road and looked up at the bay window at the front of the house, and the smaller one next to it. She imagined the atmosphere behind the front door.
As she waited for the bell to be answered, she looked over her shoulder at the white Honda Civic parked outside and recognised it as family liaison officer Sergeant Samantha Green’s car.
The front door opened and Green spoke in little more than a whisper.
‘Hello, Eve.’
‘What did you tell them, Samantha?’
‘I showed them the images of the mole and the bluebird tattoo on her arms. She had the tattoo done when she just turned eighteen. It caused merry hell when she came home with it. I told them they were from a body discovered in the River Mersey when the tide was out. Her father identified the mole and tattoo as Annie’s.’
Clay stepped over the doorstep and closed the front door as quietly as possible.
‘When did you have this conversation?’
‘Half an hour ago. Her mother’s upstairs with their GP. He’s given her a sedative. I’m in the living room with her father.’
Clay heard a brief bout of sobbing from behind the closed door of the living room, and felt something merciless spear her heart.
‘Are the results back from the dental records, Eve?’
‘Her dentist came to the mortuary. Mobile X-Ray. It’s Annie. End of.’
On the wall to the right of the living room door were three framed pictures. Annie as a ten-year-old girl in a school photograph. Annie as a proud young woman wearing a black mortar board and gown. Annie at the centre front row of thirty junior school children, smiling and at ease around their young form teacher.
The beginning, middle and end of a brief life in education.
‘Her parents worship her, Eve,’ said Green.
Clay nodded, knocked on the door.
‘Come in…’ A voice from the void.
Clay entered the room, saw a thick-set man in his late fifties sitting bolt upright in a black leather armchair.
‘Bobby,’ said Sergeant Green.
‘Yeah?’ He stared ahead of himself into the middle of the room.
‘This is Detective Chief Inspector Eve Clay. I’m going into the kitchen to make a cup of tea.’
As Sergeant Green closed the door, Clay made her way to the sofa and picked out the best place to get an eyeline with Bobby Boyd. The silence in the house was broken by a sudden hopeless sobbing that leaked down into the room through the ceiling.
‘Bobby?’