Page 8 of Already Lost

“Ah, agents!” someone called back. Nate deducedthe voice was coming from somewhere behind the lights, and followed Laura asshe led the way towards it. He figured she must have been able to see betterthan he could, so he let her take charge.

“Captain…?” Laura greeted him. She heldout a hand to shake for the man who did eventually emerge from the gloom: hewas dark-haired, tall, and tan, and younger than most captains. If anything, helooked like a politician, which put Nate’s back up immediately.

“Captain Kinnock,” he said, turning toshake Nate’s hand next. His handshake was firm and direct, applying just a littletoo much pressure. Nate was unperturbed, deliberately increasing the pressurefrom his side to match and then raise it. Kinnock let go and dropped his handby his side as if he wanted to shake it a little but resisted.

Nate wanted to smirk, but he alsoresisted.

“Special Agent Laura Frost, and my partnerSpecial Agent Nathaniel Lavoie,” Laura said. She always liked to get theintroductions and small talk out of the way as quickly as possible so that theycould get down to the actual work. “This is the second crime scene?”

“Yes,” Kinnock confirmed, turning towardsthe area illuminated by the lights. Even though dawn was breaking outside, theboarded-up windows wouldn’t let any light in. “This is where she was found. Andhere, the gramophone.”

Laura scanned the area quickly. Nate couldalmost see her brain working. He felt a small flare of excitement: Was shegoing to get a vision here? The last case had been almost disappointing. Hewanted to see what her abilities could really do. He’d been waiting long enough– maybe this time she would really see something that would help.

“Has everything been forensically checked?Including the area outside of the light?” Laura asked.

“Of course,” Kinnock said, looking a bitaffronted if anything. “We covered the whole area yesterday during the day.This is all that’s left. The body is already in the morgue.”

“The gramophone,” Laura said. “Are themodels the same at both crime scenes?”

“Yes, they’re the same,” Kinnock replied.“Same record loaded onto both of them, too.”

That had Laura raising her eyebrows. Natefelt the same way. “What’s the record?” he asked, wandering over towards thegramophone. He carefully skirted a large dark stain on the floor – clearly theblood lost by the victim. Judging by the size of the stain, she’d lost a lot.

“I haven’t heard of it before this case,”Kinnock admitted. “Research tells us it’s from the 1930s. It’s calledMy Manand the Rose, by this singer called Nena Flora. Either of you know it?”

Nate shook his head. “Never heard of the singer,either,” he said.

Laura had followed him, and she bent,trying to figure out how to make the device work. “Does it play?” she asked.

Nate reached over and turned the crank onthe side, checking the needle was settled on the record in the right place andthen standing back. It only took a moment for the sound of the song to fill theroom around them. It was a slow, sultry kind of tune, just right for a slowdance, and the gramophone produced it beautifully. It was like the pair weremeant for each other. This kind of song played on a modern device just wouldn’thave felt right.

He was my man, and we were so happy

Two fools in love, how now it may seem

Now when I think of how I was happy

I don't recall was it nightmare or dream

Laura stirred a little, as if breaking outfrom a spell that the song was trying to put them under. Nate got the feeling.It was a voice from a distinct past, the crackle and noise of the age layeredover the voice that must have been clear as day in real life. Coupled with thedusty, abandoned store and this cleared space at one end of it, it made himfeel like he was time traveling.

“I don’t know it,” she said. “It soundslike a lot of those old songs to me.”

Nate nodded agreement. “Definitely aproduct of its time, that kind of style back then,” he said.

“Did you get anything from the forensicsweep?” Laura asked, turning back to look over at Kinnock. The song carried onplaying, eerie and slow, raising goosebumps on Nate’s arms.

Kinnock shook his head. “We have somepartial prints, but none of them are matched to anything on our database. It’sthe same with the last scene. They could only be found on the gramophoneitself.”

“Interesting,” Laura said. “So, it’spossible our killer has no criminal record to date.”

“Or that he bought the gramophones fromthe same place, where a particular member of the staff handled them,” Natesuggested, just to make sure they were considering all theories.

“Hmm.” Laura was clearly unhappy with thepremise. He had to agree – it was always a shame when you got no forensic leadat all. Fingerprints could be worked with. All they had to do was find a viablesuspect, take his prints, and boom – the case could be solved, just like that.But if they turned out to be a red herring, it could set them back a long way.As always with the kind of cases they took on, everything had to be approachedwith caution.

“We should move on,” Nate suggested. Thesong was still playing, and – though he didn’t want to admit it – it was creepyas hell. Hearing it in this space, the way the woman’s sad and aching voiceseemed to caress all those cobwebbed shelves and boarded windows, felt likebeing in a horror movie. And he didn’t want to be there for the jump scare.

“Good idea,” Laura said, turning toKinnock. She wouldn’t say it either, but he was sure she felt it, too. Therewas enough creepiness in murders like this in the first place, without addingmore. “I’d like to speak to whoever found the body.”

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