Read Nameless Kill for Free Online

her left eye.”
    Brad pulled away. A cloud of alcohol stench descended as he moved.
    Brian looked down at the papers. Then, he looked back at Brad, back at the papers again. A good hundred or so unresolved missing persons reported in the last twelve months, and not a single one with a distinguishing birthmark feature.
    How did a girl of her age simply disappear without a trace?
    And why did nobody seem to care?

Chapter Six
    Brian joined Brad and a few other officers on a return trip to the houses surrounding Avenham Park later that morning. He was getting sick of sitting there in that office waiting for shit-all to happen. He’d contacted the pathologists requesting they visited the scene. He didn’t want them tampering with any potential evidence by moving the body just yet, especially with forensics down there doing their thing, but he wanted the pathologists to see the body in its current position, its current state.
    Besides, there weren’t many other leads to go on, not yet, so he might as well check out one or two of the houses with HtoH.
    Brad seemed even less willing to stay in the office twiddling his thumbs. Made for a drastic combination.
    It was another warm day in Preston. Muggy today, though. Cloudy. Smelled like it was going to rain any moment. Kind of like that smell you get when you land in a foreign country and step out into the heat for the first time.
    Only this definitely wasn’t any foreign country. Well, it kind of was judging by the demographics around here.
    “22 Rawlinsons Road is just up here on the left,” Brad said, scanning the addresses on a long paper list in front of him as he, DS Carter‌—‌the assigned HtoH officer for this case‌—‌and a newer officer called DC Finch, walked down the vacant pavement towards the line of red-brick council houses up on the left.
    “Brad, give it a fucking rest,” DS Carter said, her eyes narrowed. “We know our way around Preston, alright?”
    Brad muttered something under his breath. DC Finch sniggered. He had bright ginger hair spiked up like kids did in the late nineties.
    “If you were rich enough to own one of these houses, why the hell would you choose to live with a cesspit on your doorstep?” Brian said. He looked at the row of posh detached houses lining Avenham Park, tall green trees towering over them. It was like bloody Rio de Janeiro here‌—‌look to the right and you saw riches. Look to the left and you saw the lane to poverty.
    “Or you can think of it another way,” DS Carter said, kicking a loose stone across the simmering road like a rebellious teenager. “If you were only poor enough to live opposite these posh houses, wouldn’t you move here? Good view at least. And if you were kind enough, might get a nice brew or two from the neighbours.”
    DC Finch sniggered at this, too. Practically salivating over DS Carter, he was. Dirty bastard.
    “22 Rawlinsons,” Brad said, taking a look at the list of unchecked houses then looking up at the large, green-painted steel gate. There were bushes and flowers lining the pavement up to the house, which looked like stepping stones atop water. At the large, wooden door with an archaic bronze handle, a CCTV camera pointed right down the pavement. Wise, in truth. Brian sure as shit wouldn’t live around here in a big posh house without any CCTV.
    “Any ID on who lives here?” Brian asked.
    Brad scooted his way down the paper. “Mrs…‌Mrs. Delforth. Aged seventy-six. Husband was Mr. Felix Delforth. Died thirty years ago.”
    Brian sighed, a little more audibly than he’d intended. “And she’s the only one of the poshies you haven’t spoken to?”
    Brad looked at DS Carter and DC Finch. Both of them nodded.
    “Checked every one of these posh houses,” DS Carter said. She rolled her lips into a pout so that the protruding brown mole atop her lip stuck out. Brian wasn’t entirely sure why. “Called at each of them, asked if they’d seen or heard a thing, made a note