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
Stolen in an instant? The words lit fuses in Clay’s head. Sudden death? An accident? Suicide? Murder?
‘I’m interested in all of them, but Catriona West’s getting right under my skin,’ said Clay.
Her iPhone buzzed with an incoming call and Clay felt the temperature take a sudden dip, with the wind whistling from the wide spaces at her back and the black clouds above her spitting out the first notes of what promised to be a heavy downpour.
In the silent acres of the dead, Stone stood beside her, taking pictures of Catriona West’s headstone. Clay focused on the picture of Catriona’s face, felt her scalp crawl and her face flush, her mind’s eye filling with her first impression of Annie Boyd’s scalped and faceless body. A form of paralysis possessed Clay.
Answer the phone, she urged herself. Answer the phone.
She dug deep, shook off the invisible shackles that weighed her down and prepared to connect the incoming call.
41
11.55 am
Detective Sergeant Bill Hendricks waited with growing impatience for Clay to pick up as he called her from the landline phone on his desk in Trinity Road police station. He counted the ringtones in his head and, in the final moment before the answer machine kicked in, she connected the call.
‘Bill, how are things?’
She sounded extremely cold, with the wind sobbing behind her, and Hendricks was grateful for the warmth of the incident room.
‘Pebbles On The Beach have got back to us on the victim on the footpath linking Menlove Avenue and Allerton Road. Mand-E turns out to be Amanda Winton.’
‘Are we sure it’s her?’ asked Clay.
‘There are three Amandas in Liverpool who go on their dating site and only one spells her name or refers to herself as MAND-E. I double-checked.’
‘Where does she live?’
‘Flat 3, 189 Princes Road, Liverpool 8.’
‘Karl, come on…’
Hendricks heard the sound of two sets of feet moving at speed through gravel.
‘The landlord?’ asked Clay.
‘I’m still trying to track him down.’
‘Then get on to the duty magistrate, Bill. We need a warrant to get into her flat and search it. I’m going there directly.’
‘I’ll ask the duty magistrate to send the warrant to your phone.’
‘Tell Gina Riley to meet us there.’
‘Anything else?’
‘Go through the National Police Computer. See if there’s anything on Amanda Winton. When you’ve checked out Amanda… It may be something, it may well be nothing, but have a look for anything on a Catriona West.’
‘Jesus, have we got another victim?’
‘She was born in 1940 and she died suddenly in 2001. Wife and mother. That puts her outside the prey profile for what’s going on in 2021. She wasn’t single. She wasn’t blonde. Karl Stone’s going to circulate a photograph of her when she was middle-aged.’
‘Who is she, Eve?’