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
‘She called to the house when it was established that Francesca had gone missing. When she arrived, my sister walked into the kitchen holding Francesca’s favourite childhood toy. A doll called Kizzy. I got upset…’ Francesca’s mother took in a string of short breaths, the battling down of tears.
‘Take your time, Margaret.’
Clay heard Francesca’s aunt speaking in the background but couldn’t make out what she was saying. A moment passed and then another, and then Clay felt the transfer of the conversation from hand to hand.
‘DCI Clay, I’m Francesca’s auntie. I placed the doll down on the kitchen table while Norma Maguire was in the room. I followed my sister out of the room because she was upset and told Norma Maguire to let herself out of the house. When we returned to the kitchen, we didn’t realise it at first but we both had the same feeling that something was horribly wrong. Francesca’s Kizzy doll was gone. The bitch stole Francesca’s doll.’
‘Are you one hundred per cent certain about this?’ asked Clay.
‘We’re certain. Please ask Norma Maguire about it. Shame on her.’
Clay waited.
‘Have you a picture of Francesca as a child with the doll?’
Francesca’s aunt relayed the question to her sister.
‘Yes,’ replied Francesca’s aunt.
‘Send it to my iPhone, please,’ said Clay. ‘Thank you for calling. And I’m sorry I couldn’t give you positive news.’
She called Riley.
‘Gina, I’m going to send you a photograph of a doll. Please go to Norma Maguire’s house and find that doll. It’s called Kizzy.’
131
3.01 pm
Clay looked at Edgar McKee and was reminded of a rapidly deflating, man-sized, man-shaped balloon.
‘Where were you when Sandra O’Day was abducted and killed?’
‘I was in Holland.’
‘No you weren’t. You flew out to Holland but on 31st July you came back to Liverpool via Gare du Nord in Paris to King’s Cross and London Euston. You went back in the opposite direction on Friday 6th August. You were in England between 31st July and 6th August.’
McKee’s eyes shifted and met Clay’s.
She pulled up the images she had made of the receipts on her iPhone and showed him four pictures.
‘All found in Norma Maguire’s office.’
‘If the receipts were in her filing cabinet, it stands to reason that she was the one who made the journeys.’
‘I’ve just had a call from security in Gare du Nord. They confirmed it. They processed your passport on 31st July.’
Edgar McKee looked at his solicitor and whispered in his ear for what felt like a long time.
‘Mr McKee, repeat to DCI Clay what you’ve just said to me.’
In the turn of a moment, Edgar McKee looked like his final thread of self had been snapped into two jagged pieces.