Murder Mile

Chapter 5

Angela Mickle had woken with a humming in her head, she didn’t quite know if it was the humming that came from a hangover or the humming that precipitated her withdrawal from heroin. She’d shot up but knew the slim takings she’d managed out on the Links the night before weren’t going to be enough to score again soon; and she would need to score again soon.

Her arms itched, her throat was dry and the humming in her head made her feel woozy. There were bruises too, finger marks on her arms; her last punter had been too rough, but he’d paid extra for that. She touched her lip, it had been split, she remembered the knuckle cracking off her teeth. She’d told him, bawled him out, but he said he was taking what he’d paid for and that was that. ‘Scream all you want you dirty whore, who’s going to hear you out here?’

That’s what he’d said.

He’d driven her to an old factory site in East Lothian, miles from anywhere and threatened to leave her there if she didn’t play along. As Angela gripped herself, felt her bruised ribs, it didn’t seem like such a good idea now. Even for the extra twenty pounds.

She looked at herself in the mirror that sat on the floor beside the mattress where she lay. Her dirty blonde hair needed washed, there was blood smeared in it. Her lips were cracked and scabbed, she couldn’t go out looking like this. But she needed to go out, to score. It was a Friday, punters were always looking to score at the end of the week, they were flush with wages. That’s what Hendy had told her; he had looked after her.

Angela knew she couldn’t go out in the daylight, there was too much aggro now from residents on the Links. Nosey bastards; Edinburgh was full of them. It was a town full of square pegs. It wasn’t her town any more, it didn’t feel like the place she’d grown up in, but she couldn’t see herself going anywhere else now; not any time soon anyway.

Angela raised herself from the mattress; she felt a little sick rising in her stomach, it reached her throat and she threw up on the floor. Some milky-white vomit splashed on the mattress and her foot. She leaned over and felt the knots in her stomach again.

‘Got to fucking score,’ she said.

As she reached over to the wall, tried to steady herself, she became vaguely aware of noise from beyond the front door of her flat. It jarred with the humming in her head, made her feel worse. But it was Leith, there was always noise in Leith stairwells. This was something different, however; it sounded like a celebration.

‘What the fuck’s going on?’

Angela pushed out her thin legs, they were bruised and scraped. At one stage her punter had kicked her out of his car, she’d landed in an overgrown bramble bush; she remembered now. So much of what she did seemed a haze at the time, but it always came back to her the next day. That’s when she wanted another hit, to block it all out. Angela Mickle didn’t want any reminders of what her life had become.

There was a knock at the door; heavy thuds.

Angela felt her heart kick. Little needles tingled at the back of her eyes. It didn’t feel like fear, but it was confusion. She tried to push herself forward. Her hands steadied herself on the wall as she placed one foot in front of the other, slowly at first, but then she found something close to a rhythm.

The knock came again. Louder this time.

‘Angela, open up, eh?’

It was a man, who?

She wasn’t expecting anyone, the rent was paid — it had been short but she wangled her usual five-finger discount from the landlord. He was starting to get greedy, had asked her to see to his friend as well.

‘Angela, fuck’s sake…’

She got close to the door, cupping her stomach in her hand like she was holding in the contents. The voice sounded familiar now; as she reached the spy-hole she peered out. Her vision was too blurred to make out any more than the shape of a man’s frame. She paused for a moment, remembered her beating the night before. She felt scared, but she also wanted to block everything out and there was only one way to do that; only one way to get the money to do that. She slid the chain, turned the key in the lock and opened up the door.

‘Hello, Ange.’

It was Henderson.

‘ You?’

He stood there, smiling. He had a television under his arm, one of those thin flat-screen ones. ‘Look, I brought you a pressie.’

‘But, when… I thought you weren’t due out for another six months.’

Henderson put a foot in the door, ‘Aye well, they let me out a wee bit early.’

Angela stepped back, let him in. ‘But how… why?’

‘I dunno do I… something about overcrowding or that, needed the cells.’

As Henderson walked through the hallway, Angela closed the door behind him. He shook his head at the state of the place, he seemed to have something stuck to his shoe — a used condom. ‘Fucking hell, Ange

… This place is a shit-hole.’

She stood in the doorway, shivering. ‘Well…’

‘Well, do something about it…’ Henderson shook the condom from his shoe. ‘Have you been turning tricks in here?’

Angela shrugged. ‘Maybe.’

‘No fucking maybe about it.’ He moved towards the window, opened up. ‘This place fucking stinks. Bad.’

Angela took a step forward, ‘Where did you get the telly?’

‘What kind of a question’s that?’ Henderson turned round, looked at her. He stood facing her for a moment, showed her an open palm. ‘A man in a pub, of course.’ He turned away from her, leaned towards the shelving unit by the window and swept the contents off with the back of his hand. Angela shrieked as a cup smashed on the floor.

‘This place is a tip…’ said Henderson, he pointed at the cup. ‘I’d get that cleaned up… you going about in your bare feet and all that, you’ll get cut.’

Angela moved over to the shelves, started to gather up the shards of pottery as Henderson plugged in the television. ‘Good job I brought the cord as well… Bloody-well knew you’d have no cord for the aerial!’

The picture on the television came clear and sharp, Henderson stepped back, looked pleased with himself.

‘Not fucking bad, eh.’

Angela nodded as she emptied the broken cup shards into an open drawer. She moved to stand beside Henderson. He put an arm out, ‘Don’t crowd me out, come on.’

She put a hand into his jacket, ‘Hendy, I’ll look after you,’

He faced her for a moment, removed her hand from him. ‘I don’t need any looking after, Ange.’

‘But, I will… y’know, if you look after me.’

Henderson grinned, tipped back his head. ‘I’m not holding, if that’s what you were thinking.’

‘I need a shot, Hendy. I need it bad, I had a rough time last night.’

He flicked the television channels, found the lunchtime news slot. ‘That’s the nature of the business you’re in love, I’d say it’s you that needs me.’

She nodded, ‘I do. I need you, Hendy.’

‘Aye well. Maybe we’ll see about that.’ He pointed the remote control at the screen, shushed Angela as he increased the volume. ‘Check this out, that’s Edinburgh.’

The newscaster started to relay the details of a murder scene.

‘ Police are remaining tight-lipped about the discovery of a body on the outskirts of the city. No identification has been released for what is believed to be the body of a teenage girl found in a field near to the town of Straiton… ’

The camera zoomed in. Police officers stood outside a white tent as men in full-body overalls came and went.

‘Oh, my God!’ said Angela. She stared at the screen, raised a hand to her mouth and began to tremble.

‘Funny seeing your own town on the telly isn’t it,’ said Henderson. ‘Look there’s some filth daftie looking stupid!’

Angela raised both her hands to her mouth, then quickly put them to her ears, turned away from the screen. ‘Off. Off. Off.’

Henderson scoffed, ‘What?’

‘Turn it off.’ Angela moved towards the mattress on the floor, threw herself down and began to sob. ‘Turn it off. I don’t want to see it. I don’t want to see that place.’

‘What is it?’ Henderson walked round to her side, pointed the remote control at the television, ‘Right there you go, it’s off. What the fuck’s up with you?’

She sat up, screamed at him. ‘Why did you have to come back?… Why?… Why did you have to bring that in here?’

‘It’s just a telly!’

She rose on her knees and started to lash out with her fists, ‘You brought that here… That place.’

She was still lashing out, screaming hysterically as Henderson brought an open palm across her face. She fell sideways onto the mattress and was quiet.