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
Outside the building, Clay heard the arrival of cars, the slamming of doors and sirens coming closer in the distance. She glanced at Riley, saw that she was taking a video portrait of the scene on her iPhone, systematically covering each piece of the cramped living space.
Clay took out her iPhone and called DS Terry Mason on speed dial.
‘Terry, what are you up to?’
‘Where do you need me to be?’
‘189 Princes Road, top floor flat.’
‘I’m on my way, Eve.’
Clay unplugged Amanda Winton’s laptop from a socket in the wall.
‘Gina, hotfoot Amanda’s laptop down to Poppy Waters.’
Riley walked away quickly, dropping the laptop into an evidence bag.
On the bedside closet, make-up compacts, lipsticks and bottles of fragrances stood to attention around a circular mirror.
At the bottom of the stairs, Clay took in Mr McGann.
‘Mr McGann, what do you know about Amanda Winton?’
‘Nothing. She was the only tenant in the building who went out to work. I tried to talk to her a couple of times but she brushed me off.’
‘When was the last time you saw her?’ asked Clay.
‘She went out about seven o’clock one night. She was all dolled up. I watched her from my front room window. It was like she was walking on air.’
Clay wondered if Amanda Winton had looked back over her shoulder as she left her flat, whether she’d had any primal inkling of the danger she was walking into.
She recalled the size and the colour of the roses by Amanda’s bedside, the fraudulent picture of her handsome suitor next to her laptop.
No, Clay concluded. If she had experienced any dark warnings, she must have drowned them out with hope.
Amanda Winton didn’t walk towards her date with death. She skipped there.
44
1.30 pm
Detective Constable Barney Cole sat at his desk with a map of South Liverpool spread out in from of him.
On the map were asterisks where the Automatic Number Plate Recognition cameras had picked up the white van on its journey away from Allerton Road in the direction of the River Mersey.
Detective Chief Inspector Eve Clay sipped her coffee, noticed how the asterisks had the appearance of a constellation of dark stars, and said, ‘Talk me through it, Barney.’
‘From the CCTV at the old lady’s house on the corner of Allerton Road and Heath Road, we had the last three digits of the licence plate of the white van, ZDS. It’s a Ford Transit Custom 2.2 TDCi panel van. So far so good. ZDS. Those digits were enough for the ANPR cameras to pick up as the van headed away from the scene of the body drop-off on the footpath between the golf course and the public park, Allerton Towers. The full registration is OD53 ZDS. Guess what, Eve?’
‘You phoned the DVLA and it’s a genuine plate.’