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
‘No. I’ve told you everything I know.’ She reached into the pocket of her housecoat and took out a white envelope. ‘This is the CCTV footage. I saved it on to a pen drive. I did an IT For Beginners course at night school.’
Riley stood up and took the envelope from Mrs Hobson.
‘Half past three. That’s definitely the time you saw the white van?’ Hendricks double-checked.
‘Definitely the time. BBC 24-hour news was on. I checked the time on the telly,’ said Mrs Hobson, pressing her hands down on the arms of her chair to help herself to her feet. ‘Would you like to see my IT certificate?’
30
9.33 am
Francesca Christie had the clearest sensation that someone behind her was stripping her naked with his eyes.
She kept her back turned but felt the heat in the office rise and remembered the time when a lipstick went missing from her desk drawer. The only people other than herself who had a key to the drawer were Daniel Ball and Norma Maguire, and that was why she no longer kept personal items in it.
‘Francesca?’
At her desk near the window of Maguire Holdings, she heard Daniel Ball’s voice coming towards her. She recognised the toadying tone, knew he was about to dump something difficult on her lap as he washed over her with his beady eyes, and she pretended not to hear.
‘Fran!’
Caught off guard by his impersonation of Norma Maguire, she looked around and saw that the boss wasn’t there to catch Daniel’s mockery.
His hands were firmly in his trouser pockets, and his eyes dipped from her face to her breasts and back in the micro-second that she guessed was the fruit of a lifetime’s practice.
‘Yes, Daniel?’
‘You look rather lovely this morning, Francesca.’
As she absorbed the compliment, she recalled the morning of her third day at work in the office and how she’d been filled in and warned at break time. Daniel apparently went to bars in the city centre most nights where he picked up women and sometimes men to take to budget hotels for sex with him. Behind the smart suit, shirt and tie, he was a sex addict. And the conclusion of her colleague’s advice had stuck fast. ‘Don’t be on your own with him.’
‘Dean’s phoned in sick.’
‘Again?’
‘I looked in the diary and I see you’re free at eleven this morning.’
‘Coventry Road?’ Francesca anticipated.
‘Exactly. The shithole’s shithole.’
‘With the vendor who doesn’t understand that it needs forty grand’s worth of work to make it habitable but who won’t budge down one bean from the asking price? Postpone the viewing!’
‘No. No. Dean’s not hacking it. You will. If anyone can build bridges between the vendor and the buyer, it’s you.’
Francesca heard the dismal ping of the lift arriving from Norma’s office to the ground floor.