Read Online Lost Lives (Emily Swanson Mystery Thriller Series Book 1) by Malcolm Richards - Free Book Online

reported? And what of all of those bodies lying refrigerated in mortuaries, unidentified and unclaimed? Who were they? Where did they come from? An image came to Emily's mind—Alina laid out on cold steel, her skin as blue as eggshells, her neck stretched beyond all human dimensions.
    Emily paced over to the window. She was getting nowhere and her frustration began to weigh heavy on her shoulders. She turned and stared at Alina’s portrait. A thought struck her. Who had painted it? Moving over to the sofa, she picked up the painting and examined the canvas. There were initials scribed in the bottom right hand corner: AC.
    Her eyes moved from the painting to the landscape print on the wall. Seconds later, Alina’s portrait hung in its place, her lingering gaze roaming the living room, pulling at Emily’s insides.

CHAPTER SIX
    Leaving The Holmeswood through the rear exit, Emily hurried past the dumpsters, almost trampling a homeless man asleep in a swathe of soiled blankets and strips of cardboard. Reaching the end of the alley, she stepped out onto a narrow side street. People were coming in thick and fast, and it took her a moment to insert herself into the flow. Once she was in, she floated along like a leaf in a stream.
    She could have taken an underground train, but descending stairs and escalators deep beneath the city was a concept that left her struggling for breath. And yet millions of commuters did it every day, pushing and shoving, elbow to face, squeezing out the air, until train carriages and platforms resembled livestock in transit.
    Buses were a little better, but then you had to contend with gridlocked traffic and drivers who, when the lights finally turned green, drove like police officers in pursuit of criminals.
    For now, Emily kept her feet firmly on the ground, making her way to the bank to pick up her replacement bankcard, then continuing on towards Islington. Moving past the bars and restaurants of Upper Street, she crossed the road and came to a stop. Through the tinted front window she could see Paulina Blanchard, who sat behind a meticulously ordered desk.
    Sensing eyes upon her, the woman scowled and waved Emily in.
    “Good morning, Miss Swanson,” Paulina said, her eyes fixed on her computer screen. “Did you find your way all right?”
    Emily nodded as she pulled out the checklist. When Paulina showed no interest in taking it from her, she dropped it onto the desk.
    “If we could sort out payment for the new keys before you go,” the letting agent said.
    “Of course.”
    Paulina made swift work of the transaction. When she was done, she handed Emily a receipt, then returned to her work. Emily hovered on the other side of the desk.
    “Is there something else I can help you with, Ms Swanson?” Paulina didn’t look up.
    “I wanted to talk to you about the former tenants.”
    “Oh? This isn’t about unpaid bills I hope.”
    Emily shook her head. “He left a lot of things behind, including his wife’s clothing.”
    “Well, I’m afraid I don’t have a forwarding address for Mr Henry if that’s what you’re after,” Paulina said. “I’m sure I’ll still have his number on file though. Obviously, I can’t give it to you—customer confidentiality and all that. Did you want me to tell him something?”
    Emily shifted her weight from one foot to the other. This was an unexpected opportunity. One that filled her with a sudden nervousness. Who better to ask about Alina’s whereabouts than the man she supposedly ran away from?
    “Perhaps you could give him my number? Tell him there are things I’m not sure he meant to leave behind.”
    “Such as?” Paulina pulled up a client file on the screen and began searching for Karl Henry’s details.
    “Some personal items.”
    Paulina’s eyes narrowed. Closing down the database she picked up the tenant checklist. “Indeed. I’m afraid I don’t have time to call him right now, but I’ll make sure to get hold of him later this