Prologue:
Another brown flimsy cardboard folder found its way onto the thick heavy table, the dim light hanging low from the ceiling shone down on it, the words 'Cold Case : Rachel Mann' were clearly visible the numerous coffee stains showed how many failed attempts there had been on this case. A smart grey suit hung on a hanger behind the offices only door, the suit was being gazed at, though to look at the man you'd think he was staring straight through the door and out in to the busy corridor beyond the silence he sat in. He had barely had a moment alone to collect his thoughts from closing the last case before another thin barely visible document had found it's way to his desk. The folder sat there teasing him, taunting him to take a look inside, the name 'Rachel Mann' meant nothing to him but he couldn't wait to find out who she was and why her case had made it on to his desk, stretching out his hands her sighed, his hairy knuckles and slowly fading tan line of where a wedding band once sat, shaking his head to clear the rising thoughts he scanned the outside of the folder. The detective slowly opened the folder and his small brown eyes read over the words and looked at the photographs. Nothing really stood out. The case notes lacked something that he couldn't, yet, put his finger on, he reread the file while running his fingers through his slowly graying hair, his pale skin showed many years of being cooped up reading over files, his broad shoulders barely contained in the faded blue shirt he wore. A knock at the door rose him from his thoughts about the new case in his hands, "Jenkins," his thick voice tore through the silence, "come in," the door swung open and there stood Jenkins, short cropped copper hair, pale creamy skin, freshly pressed black pants, white shirt and highly polished black shoes,
"You ready to go sir?" Jenkins tiny voice almost got engulfed the moment it left her lips from the noise out in the corridor,
"Yes," he growled, Jenkins nodded and stepped aside, "come on!" he snapped as he hurried down the busy corridor, Jenkins took one last look at the sign on the door and hurried after her boss.
"Detective Jacob Masterson"
Chapter 1:
The smell of death hung thickly in the air, a smell Jacob Masterson was all too familiar with; he looked around the abandoned room. The scene that stretched out before his eyes reminded him of a crack den, the shabby threadbare carpets were sticky, the wallpaper was peeling from the walls, needles littered across the room, bottles smashed upon the floor and a sagging couch in the centre of the room, he looked down at the photos grasped tightly in his hand. A lifeless body of a once pretty woman, a needle protruding out of her left arm, her dirty blonde hair covering half of her face, he looked up from the photo and at the sagging couch. Rachel Mann’s lifeless body, slummed on the couch, materialized before his eyes, he walked closer to her, afraid that breaking eye contact would mean that the image would disappear; he looked at the clothes she was wearing, tight black jeans, a clean pink t-shirt, “Clean?” Jacob Masterson asked himself, “In a place like this and her top is clean? What dumb fuck didn’t pick this up?” a low heavy sigh escaped from his mouth, thinking to himself that someone must have picked his up, this case was over a year old, he knew from the case file that there were several suspects but they couldn’t pin it on anyone, the idea of suicide or accidental overdose had been ruled out by the coroner as he had proven that the drugs were pumped into her body after she had died. A tap to the shoulder brought Masterson back from his thoughts, Jenkins stood there, the smell of death obviously effecting her more than it should, but was it death that hung too thickly in the air? Masterson wasn’t sure, “What?” his thick voice seemed to bounce off the walls,
“Sir, what are we doing here?” her small voice came out,
“Oh for god’s sake Jenkins stand up straight, take your hand off your bloody nose and take a deep breath in through your nose,” Masterson boomed, Jenkins hesitated, “do it,” Jenkins removed her hand from her nose and breathed in, her nose and lungs filled with the thick scent of the room, it burnt her nose and the back of her throat, Masterson looked at the red headed woman in front of him turn a pale shade of green and quickly removed the hat from his head and shoved it under her face as vomit forced its way out of her mouth,
“I’m sorry Sir,” she gasped, a light smile played on Masterson’s lips, when she looked up at him it vanished,
“Keep the hat,” was all he replied, taking a step away from her, Masterson looked back at the sagging couch, the imagine had now gone but he still felt like he was missing something.
