Just Like Smoke

He had to act quickly. He could not afford to let her rot. They were always at their best when they were fresh. The freezing winters night would also help with keeping her fresh.

Snow always fell thick in Edinburgh, which worked to his advantage. The snow helped to cover his tracks. There were plenty of shadows for him to strike and carry out his work without being disturbed.

He had been following her for the last two nights. He had only caught a glimpse of her in a passing moment, they walked down the street heading in opposite directions with their heads down and their bodies wrapped up in a vain attempt to protect themselves against the cold. He did not know what it was that made him look up at that moment, he wanted to put it down to instinct, his sixth sense as it were. He just happened to know that she was there.

As they passed he looked back at her and she too looked back at him. The green eyes, the blonde hair, the youthful complexion. She was just what he had been looking for.

But there was now a problem. She had looked back and seen his face. Whether she paid any attention to him or not she had still seen him. Quickly he made his own backwards glance look like he was checking the street before crossing it. The horse drawn carriages had a tendency of rattling along the cobbles of the streets without giving a care for those wishing to cross. The black ice hidden underneath the snow also proved to be a hazard.

He crossed the street and began to walk back in the direction he had come from whilst keeping his desire in sight. He breathed a sigh of relief. Her eyes had not followed him. He knew now that she had not paid any attention to him. He was free to carry on.

He followed her to a grocers and then to a florists and then to her lodgings. Her doss house was in the slums of what had now been called the Old Town of Edinburgh. These parts of the historic city had been left to the poor and needy whilst the wealthy lived their lives to the fullest only a few miles north.

She turned off High Street into Stevenlaw’s Close, an alleyway that was draped in heavy shadow from the high rise doss houses and with only a single gas lamp to the light the way.

It was harder to follow someone in the alleyways. The chance of being seen was always far greater as there were never any people to blend in with. He managed to keep his distance from her. She had her arms full with her shopping and her head tucked in to her body. The shawl wrapped around the base of her neck covered her ears. All he had to do was keep his distance and his footsteps light and she would not know he was there.

He held back some thirty yards. Far enough to remain hidden but close enough to keep her in his sight. He skidded slightly on the snow when she stopped suddenly. Thankfully for him the sounds of his fumble where covered by her dropping the shopping as she tried the door.

He waited a while to see if she came back out. For all he knew this could be the dwellings of a sick mother or a bedridden relative. When he saw her in the third floor window though he was reassured. He saw her remove her hat and shawl but kept her coat on for warmth. When she drew her curtains she was then gone from his sights and curled up in her own little world.

He came back a few hours later when it was dark. He needed warming up himself but more importantly he needed to know what kind of a woman she was. Was she a good Christian woman? Was she one of these whores that walks the streets looking for her next fix? Was she a raving drunkard that spent her evenings leaning against a bar sipping gin? He needed to know. It was important.

His patience paid off. She left her lodgings alone. He thought she was unmarried, or separated from her husband at least, for no sensible man would let his wife go out at night without chaperoning her. He followed her to Cowgate and then west where she entered a public house in Grassmarket.

Seeking warmth himself he chose to follow her inside. He ordered a tankard of ale and allowed his eyes to search through the many faces in the pub. He found with considerable ease. She was sat at a table with four other women. She was by far the prettiest of the group and the youngest by some years. Her red hair showed now under her hat and there was a hint of natural beauty to her features. She was perfect for what he had in mind.

He only stopped for one drink. He had noticed that a vast number of the patrons were alcoholics, the ones that hugged the bar or found comfort on the tables before falling into a drunken sleep. He would look out of place here if he stayed too long so he finished off his drink and left.

The second night he returned to the pub. He hoped she would come back. It may have been a far fetched assumption that she would come back for a second night but when you have nothing except your own company at home what else would a single woman do with her evenings?

He arrived earlier than the previous night for he wanted to find a good observation point, a place where he would go unnoticed and keep an eye on the door at the same time. He found one towards the end of the bar close to the hatch. He had already decided that he needed to play his part well. He needed to look like he belonged there. He ordered a tankard of ale and downed it quickly so he could order a second. Part way down the second tankard he could already feel his senses relaxing. Without anyone noticing he poured the rest of his drink into his neighbours tankard, an unshaven middle aged man who hovering over the line of awake and slumber. When the punter realised his tankard was near full again he relished at his fortune and continued to drink.

He ordered a third tankard and stared in to it.

He had been there nearly an hour and there was no sign of her. Then one of her friends comes in, the loud mouthed one with the dirty blond hair closely followed by the obese blonde with the crooked teeth. If she did not make an appearance then he would go back to her lodgings. He would not make do with another. It had to be her.

Fortune smiled in his favour for he did not have to wait long. She came in and marched straight up to the bar. She must have been a regular for the barman called her by her Christian name. Emily. It was a pretty name, he thought, something very elegant and beautiful about it.

Once she had a drink in her hand she turned to her friends and joined them at their table. Every now and then one of them would cast their eyes around the bar as if they were looking for someone to join them. Then they would lean closer to each other and say something in whispers and then laugh. No doubt making fun of some poor soul in the bar, he thought.

It was near midnight when she left. He gave it a few minutes and then left also hoping that he would be able to catch her in the distance but when he got on to the street she was nowhere to be seen. He was not too worried though. Even if he had wanted to act he could not have done. He was unarmed. He had left everything he needed back in his room.

And so it came to tonight. This night was the night he was going to strike.

He had returned to the same public house albeit a little later, closer to eleven this time. He had wanted to make sure that she was there. He was not disappointed. The same faces she had been with the previous two nights were there also and they had been sat in the same seats. One would have thought that they had not moved.

He had one drink at the bar. This time it was a whiskey. He could handle his whiskey having drunk it near most of his life. Once he had finished he left and crossed the marketplace.

He lingered in the gateway of Hunter’s Close for this gave him perfect visibility for her exit. The clock on a nearby church chimed twelve times. Midnight was upon them and just like she had the other night Emily came out of the public house and rubbed her arms as she was greeted with the cold.

Emily walked towards the square where Grassmarket and West Bow married and she waited by the stone water fountain. He had not moved from his hiding place. He could still see her yet he also knew that where she currently stood was too open for any kind of attack. He had to follow her to a more secluded spot, maybe even her own lodgings.

And then he felt a taste of disgust. She was approached by a man. They exchanged a few words and she led her client away. He was sickened. He thought Emily was not that type of woman. He had seen something in her face that spoke of gentleness and honesty, not some kind of whore that would lie on her back for any man who paid the right price.

She led them up a hill. The shop fronts of West Bow and Victoria Street hung over them with their snow covered roof tops. The steep incline proved a difficult task in itself for Emily and her companion. She only slipped the once yet he seemed to be uneasy on his feet constantly. It must have been the drink. An evil substance if not controlled.

They had just turned the bend in the road when Emily stopped and faced her man. She whispered something in his ear and then ran her hand down his front. She had asked for payment upfront. A bold move for most punters don’t hand over any money until they have satisfied their needs.

She took his hand and led him in to a darkened alleyway where she found an unlocked gate and an unoccupied yard. He followed them down the alley and lingered for a moment on the other side of the gate. He could hear them rifling through their clothes. He could not believe that people were prepared to do this act in the freezing winter nights.

Emily then started to moan. She was faking it, he could tell. The punter could not though. The two bodies tested the strength of the hinges of the gate as she continued to make the right noises and excite her man.

He passed the gate and waited under an archway. He was surprised. As he passed he felt himself aroused. A niggling voice spoke to him to say that he could be her next punter, it could be him that feels the release of sexual gratification. But he shook the notion from his mind. He was not prepared to allow her to take him like that.

A few minutes later the mans groans told them all that he was finished and shortly afterwards he stumbled out of the yard tucking his shirt back into his trousers and covering himself back over with his coat. It took some time for Emily to surface and when she did she let out a slight gasp for she did not know anyone was on the other side of the gate.

‘Blimey you scared me.’ The Scottish accent was strong. ‘You shouldn’t go creeping up on people like that though.’ She actually sounded angry at him as she pushed past him to go back out on to the street.

‘How much?’ He asked calmly.

Emily paused and turned back to him placing her hands on her hips.

‘Oh, like that is it? Well it depends what you want. Do you know what you want?’ She had now turned on the charm. This must be how she does it and it was working. He could feel himself becoming aroused again.

She took him by the hand and led him in to the same back yard she had just emerged from. Her hand unbuttoned his fly and wormed its way inside his trousers. He flinched at the coldness of her skin.

‘It’s alright. I know what I’m doing.’

He leaned back against the wall and let go of his bag as she dropped to her knees. For a brief moment he was lost in ecstasy. She was good. She worked her magic with her hands and then with her mouth. He could understand why men walk away from her staggering for she must be a professional at making men weak in the knees.

It was when he felt the contents of his coat pocket strike his leg that he remembered why he had picked her out. He pulled his mind back to his task.

He looked down at her face. The beautiful green eyes looked up at him and then closed. He wanted them to be closed. It would make his job easier.

His right hand slithered into his pocket and found the handle on the six inch knife he had been concealing. He hesitated for Emily had opened her eyes again and pulled away.

‘Do you want me to continue?’ she said with a teasing smile.

‘Yes.’

She closed her eyes again and began to work for her money. Slowly he withdrew his knife and then paused. He could feel it, the climax was coming. He told himself he did not want to, that it was not what he had come for tonight yet there was a part of him that wanted it too. It had been a long time. She carried on working and in that split second he decided to let her have it. He moaned with pleasure. He had forgotten what it felt like.

She leaned back on her knees and smacked her lips gently as she smiled up at him. He tried to put his manhood away with his left hand whilst using his right to keep the knife concealed. He looked down on her. She was vulnerable and would be at his mercy.

‘Was that just what you needed sir?’ Emily said mischievously.

‘Actually it was. But it was not what I came for.’

He moved quickly. His arm sprang up from his pocket and he ran the blade over her throat. He saw the fear in her eyes as she made an attempt to block his attack but she had not been prepared for it. She fell backwards and squirmed on the floor and the pain of her severed neck attacked her brain. Clumsily her hands tried to find her neck but they just flapped around helplessly.

And now he had to act quick. He could not afford to let her rot. They were always at their best when they were fresh. The freezing winters night would also help with keeping her fresh.

He ripped open her coat and tore at her clothing. The tip of the blood stained knife ran down her bodice and slashed it in two. Her skin was pale and soft. Her body squelched as the knife dug deep into her torso and split her chest open. Blood poured down the side of her body and stained the pure snow.

Minutes later he fled from the alley. His left hand clutched at his coat to cover his blood stained clothes, his right hand held a tight grip to the bag where his knife rattled and his trophy rested. He had now got what he had wanted.