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
‘Albert Dock, Cathy. If she’d been asked out on a date, where would Annie go to eat, say?’
‘Io, the Greek restaurant overlooking Liverpool One.’
Six kilometres downriver, thought Clay, from where she finally ended up.
‘She didn’t forward you a photograph of him?’
‘I asked her to. She didn’t have one on her phone to send. I thought it was a bit odd. I mean, she didn’t say, but you’d think she’d have sent him a picture and he’d have sent one to her. How else would they recognise each other among all those people at the Dock?’
Clay recalled the photograph that Riley had discovered beneath Annie’s pillowslip.
‘Thank you,’ said Clay. ‘You’ve given us some useful things to go on. Unless you can think of anything else to add, that’s all for now. Thank you, Cathy.’
Clay turned off the audio recorder and looked at the door of the interview suite but Cathy didn’t move, sat stiller than she had throughout the conversation, turning her wedding ring over and over.
‘Is there something you want to say, Cathy?’
‘There’s a lot of muttering on social media that he did something pretty terrible to her. Is it true?’
‘Well, yes, for once social media’s correct. The detail is going to be released to the media in the next twelve hours.’
‘Her parents?’
‘Her parents will be the first to be informed. I don’t want them finding out what happened to their daughter from social media.’
Tears welled up in Cathy’s eyes as she headed for the door.
‘Has he done it before to any other women?’
‘Yes.’
‘Will he do it again?’
They walked towards the glass door leading to reception.
‘He already has done. Cathy, you mustn’t discuss anything we’ve talked about with anyone. If you do, what you know will be all over the internet and that’s going to help this so-called Richard Ezra character no end.’
‘I won’t breathe a word. On Annie’s memory.’
As Clay watched Cathy leaving, she called Cole.
‘Eve, how’s it going?’
‘Barney, we need all available CCTV footage from the Echo Arena, front, back and sides. Thursday, 25th November. Start before 7pm and go through until after 9pm. We’re looking for Annie Boyd’s final recorded steps and anyone who was with her.’
23
6.11 pm
Francesca Christie felt a buzz of excitement as she put her key in the lock of her home in Druid’s Cross Road. Opening the door, she heard the voice of the newsreader on the BBC six o’clock news.
‘Frann-cesca!’ She weighed up the tone of her mother’s voice. She certainly hadn’t had a great day but it wasn’t one of her blackest ones either.
‘Hi, Mum…’
She walked to the door of the front room and her mother pointed at a large brown box.