Dzinski stood at the mouth of the alley, looking down its gullet.
He’d gotten the dead girl’s name from the desk sergeant who owed him a favour. It was snowing again, and he stood fifteen feet away from where he’d found her, just repeating it. No family, no friends, no connections. Drifting, untethered.
Someone had beat her, strangled her, but didn’t kill her outright. Left her to die alone in a dark alley in December.
Dzinski wondered how many people walked by before he found her. Wondered if maybe she only appeared as he stumbled by. Something just for him.