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
Her mother looked at Mrs Doyle, who was slipping her arms into the same coat she had worn forever.
‘Mrs Doyle…’ said her mother.
Mrs Doyle shook her head and opened the front door to leave.
As Mrs Doyle left, her mother placed her baby brother back in the basket and took off her fur coat. The baby started to cry and her mother said, ‘All right, all right.’
Her mother pulled up her sweater and, picking up the baby, fastened him to her left breast, walking around the hall and rocking him.
The baby stopped crying and her mother walked out of the hall and deeper into the house.
She listened and through the walls of the house came a sound she knew very well.
As her mother fed the new baby, the grandfather clock ticked, hitting the air with a stern metal finger.
And beneath this there was that other sound.
In the morning room, her mother wept.
Day One
Wednesday, 1st December 2021
Catoptrophobia
Fear of mirrors
1
6.44 am
The tide went out and death came in.
Detective Chief Inspector Eve Clay walked along the mudflats of the River Mersey towards the remains of a human being, guiding herself forward in the pre-dawn darkness with a torch that sliced the freezing gloom before her.
Walking further away from the concrete promenade that followed the twisting path of the river, Clay felt her rubber boots being sucked into the thick silt beneath her feet.
Tall and slim with long brunette hair snatched back in a ponytail, Clay looked ahead at the random pattern of jagged black rocks and the dead person beyond them but knew there was no mileage in using them as stepping stones. Being floored on the mud with a broken ankle was simply not an option.
Clay glanced back at Otterspool Promenade.
Beneath a pair of arc lamps, Clay saw the marked police car and the constables who had discovered the body. Beneath the artificial light, rain raged in the wind and into the deluge a black mortuary van pulled up alongside Detective Sergeant Gina Riley, a small, rotund woman with fair hair and a dreamy expression that hid her quicksilver mind. Riley raised an arm, acknowledging Clay.
Three supporting officers climbed down the concrete steps from the railings and on to the riverbed.
She carried on, stepping as lightly as she could and shivering in the ice-cold wind, her eyes fixed on the body washed up on a rock at the centre of a large pool of water.
Female, thought Clay, as she concentrated on the body that was becoming clearer with each step forward. On your back. Naked.
A foghorn sounded in the distance, its moan like the dying breath of a mythical beast.
Young. Eyes wide open and startled, the gate to your soul exposed to the elements.