4
Irvine held her ID out in front of her, as though it would act as a shield. The man continued to advance on her. She stepped back, felt her foot slip on the edge of the top stair – nowhere to go but down.
He was close now, ten feet from her. She pushed her other hand into her bag and grabbed the canister of pepper spray, pulled it out and pointed it at him.
‘Stay where you are or I’ll use this.’
She said it loud and it was enough to stop him. Still couldn’t make out his face. She smelled alcohol and aftershave.
His head cocked to one side.
He ran at her.
Irvine saw his face clearly for a moment and pressed the button on the spray.
He ducked his head and held a big hand up to protect his face from the spray. Irvine tried to angle the liquid into his eyes.
Then he was on her.
He shoved his leading hand into Irvine’s face, cracking her face back on to the wall. She felt the impact on her eye socket and cheek, the whole side of her face going numb from the blow.
She kept her finger on the spray and moved the canister rapidly from side to side hoping to catch him in the face. It worked.
He shouted out and pulled his hand off her face.
Irvine kicked out at his legs and felt the side of her shoe connect with his shin. She stepped up into the hall and swung her fist at his head, the canister of pepper spray still grasped in it. She caught him with a glancing blow and he staggered on to the stairs, grabbing at the railing with one hand and swinging the other one round at her.
She saw the blow coming too late. His hand closed into a fist and hit her high on the head, just below her hairline. The force of it made her stagger and she fell back against the wall.
The man rubbed at his eyes. Turned and ran, half falling down the stairs.
Irvine leaned against the wall and listened to the sound of him running on the stairs and the main door crashing back against the wall as he went out on to the street.
She slid down the wall and dropped the pepper spray, her whole body shaking. She felt on the verge of tears but forced herself not to cry, taking in deep lungfuls of air to slow her pulse.
The side of her face felt hot and tight. She put her hand to it and felt swelling around her eye, pulled it away and saw blood. She wiped the blood on the wall, smearing it red.
Irvine searched in her bag for a packet of tissues, pulling out a handful of them and pressing them to her face. She felt blood soak them almost immediately.
‘Are you okay?’
Irvine looked up at the sound of the woman’s voice. She was leaning against the doorframe of her flat staring at Irvine.
‘Did he hit you?’
Irvine nodded and pushed herself up. She bent down to lift her bag and felt her head swim, light flashing in her vision. When it passed, she grabbed her bag and walked towards the woman, the wad of tissues still pressed against her face.
‘Are you Suzie Murray?’
She nodded.
‘I’m a police officer. Can I use your bathroom?’
Murray straightened and looked inside her flat. Her eyes darted furtively back to Irvine.
‘I don’t care what you’ve got in there,’ Irvine told her. ‘I came to ask you about Joanna Lewski.’
As she drew level with the door of the flat, Irvine saw that Murray’s lip was cut and there was swelling to her jaw. She had been crying.
‘Did he do that to you?’
Murray nodded but said nothing. Irvine thought that she looked to be in her mid-thirties, with a bad blonde dye job showing dark roots, but was probably five to ten years younger than that. Being in her line of work tended to age women rapidly.
‘Can I come in?’ Irvine asked, taking the tissues from her face and looking at the crimson stain on white.
‘What is it about Joanna?’ Murray asked, unable to look Irvine in the eye.
It hadn’t occurred to Irvine that Murray would not know that her flatmate was dead. Had nobody told her?
‘Let’s go inside, okay?’
Irvine went past Murray into the flat. She followed Murray’s directions to the bathroom, a narrow room at the far end of the hall. The bath was stained where the tap dripped constantly and clothes were strewn across the floor.
She went to the sink and looked in the mirror, turning her face to see the damage that had been done. There was a half-inch cut running down past her right eye and the side of her face was already swollen and discoloured.
Irvine took some more tissues from her bag and dabbed at the cut. Murray came into the room and took a box of Elastoplast from a drawer under the sink.
‘It’s all I’ve got,’ she said, handing it to Irvine.
Irvine took them from her and said thanks. Murray left her alone as she tore the backing off two plasters and crossed them over the cut, pressing down and seeing a bloodstain rise where she had applied pressure.
She was going to have some heavy bruising but there was nothing she could do about that for now.
Murray was in the living room when Irvine came out of the bathroom. The place was a mess – dirty clothes and dishes all over the place and a single, stained sofa against the wall opposite a window which looked down on to the street outside. Irvine decided she would stand.
Murray pulled her hair back from her face and looked at Irvine.
‘Place is a mess.’
Irvine wasn’t sure what the correct response to that was. She said nothing.
‘You said this was about Joanna?’
‘Yes. I’m sorry but she died yesterday.’
Murray looked away but otherwise did not react.
‘We found her body in the river. She was naked. Somebody stripped her and dumped her.’
Again, no reaction.
‘You don’t seem surprised or upset, Suzie.’
Murray shrugged.
‘Stuff like that happens to us, you know. Comes with the territory.’
‘How well did you know Joanna?’
‘Not that well. She moved in a month ago.’
Irvine knew the score: getting any worthwhile information from Murray was going to be difficult. Her inherent distrust of the police.
‘Sounds like maybe you didn’t have a choice in the matter? Her moving in, I mean.’
‘I don’t own this place. Someone else does.’
Her handler. Pimp. Irvine made a note to check the Land Register to see who the owner was.
‘Who was that man? The one who was just here.’
Murray rocked back and stood, walking over to the window and wrapping her arms around herself. Irvine couldn’t tell if it was because she was scared or trying to avoid talking about him.
‘Suzie?’
‘I don’t know his name.’
‘That’s not really an answer.’
Irvine heard her sigh.
‘He sold us some stuff.’
‘Drugs?’
She nodded, still looking out the window.
‘Have you used any of it?’
‘No. He came here with Joanna the other night. Said they were going to party.’
Irvine looked around. Not much of a place for celebrations.
‘Did they?’
‘What, you want the details?’
Irvine said nothing.
‘They didn’t stay here long. They went out.’
‘And they took the stuff with them?’
Murray nodded.
‘Had he sold you drugs before?’
She shook her head.
‘He showed up a couple of weeks ago with Joanna. She was the one who knew him. Said he had better stuff than anyone else.’
‘And he didn’t take cash from Joanna for it?’
‘You want a prize for figuring that out?’
There was a knock at the door. Murray looked at Irvine, her eyes wide with fear.
Another knock, louder this time.