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
‘I understand you’re in shock right now but you’ve got to work hard at gathering all your thoughts together. We need to sit down and you must tell me everything about your last conversation with Annie, your last memories of Annie before she disappeared.’
‘I understand.’
‘Can you just confirm something for me before I go? The internet dating site that Annie was on was Pebbles On The Beach. Right?’
Cathy looked like a woman who had just heard the story of her life told by a complete stranger.
‘Pebbles On The Beach?’ persisted Clay. ‘Is that right?’
‘That – that’s exactly right. How did you know, DCI Clay?’
Clay grimaced. ‘I’m afraid you’ll find out soon enough. I’m sorry for your loss, Cathy.’
As Clay closed the front door behind herself and headed towards her car, she called Cole in the incident room in Trinity Road police station.
‘You messaged me to call you immediately, Barney. What’s happened?’
‘You’re on speakerphone, Eve. DCI Dave Ferguson, Warrington Constabulary, the SIO on the Sandra O’Day murder. He’s arrived at the station. He’s sitting next to me.’
‘Hello, Dave. Are you really early or have I got the times wrong?’
‘I’m early, Eve. I want to know what you know about your victim, your case, before I talk to your team.’
‘Not that much, but can you do that for me, Barney? Tell Dave everything we know.’
‘Will do.’
For the first time that day, Clay smiled, as she ducked out of the rain and into her car.
‘I’m coming back right now.’
She felt relieved as she drove away from Melbreck Road, a relief tinged with a shard of guilt because she was running away from people in their darkest moments.
As she turned on to the roundabout leading on to Heath Road, Annie Boyd’s life flashed through her head in a split second in a series of framed pictures on the walls of her parents’ house, and came to a crashing halt as her body lay in the mud at the bottom of the River Mersey.
Rain gathered on her windscreen and the wipers squealed as they pushed it away.
Clay put her foot down on the accelerator and felt like the clouds were pressing down on her skull.
11
11.01 am
Francesca Christie opened a brown paper bag and half-filled it with cherries; she took another bag from the greengrocer’s hook and selected five plums from the display in front of her – food for lunch and to snack on throughout the day.
As she paid for her fruit, she watched the rain hitting the ground and heard the wind singing through the tarpaulin protecting the produce on display on the pavement outside the shop.
Her iPhone rang out and, looking at the name on the display, she smiled and walked away from the till.
James.