by Ryan Green
It was like his worst nightmare. Like living in his street in Glasgow, except the walls of his flat had been pulled down and all the people that hated him were able to see right inside. Or at least, that was how he imagined it was going to be. Angus might have been the main character in his own story, but to the prisoners, he barely even registered as existing. Even if someone on the outside did wish Angus harm, all letters coming into the prison were checked and censored to maintain order. After the first few days, older prisoners took him under their wing and his confidence began to grow. By the time that his mother and sister made their first visit, he was as happy as they had ever seen him. Regardless of how Maimie and his sister Connie interpreted what had happened on the fateful day that Angus killed a girl, it was the last straw for his older brother, who had watched the runt of the litter that he had tried to protect from the bullies of the world turn into a monster before his very eyes. John never spoke to Angus again for the rest of his life. For their mother, seeing Angus happy and healthy in jail gave her a new lease on life. She immediately began laying plans for his future; preparing paperwork that would let him change his name and giving consideration to emigrating when his ten years of imprisonment were over. She was ready to uproot herself and her whole family for Angus, but it was a small sacrifice. They may have lived in the same place for a long time, but any connections that they might have made to the community had been firmly severed by his crime.
He spent the next six years behaving like a model prisoner. A social circle of the Glaswegian criminals accepted him on its fringes alongside the other sex criminals who would become his closest friends and mentors in the prison. In those years prisons did not only pay lip service to rehabilitation. Angus was taught a trade as a painter and decorator so that he would be able to re-join society after he had served his time. In the seventh year that he was in prison, he was given day release to go and work with decorating companies in Edinburgh, to learn the fine details of the trade in an abridged apprenticeship. Unfortunately, he was also learning a second trade from his new friends. In prison, he traded notes with other sex offenders and they refined their techniques. Angus learned how to cover his tracks, how to act confident in the face of questioning and how to charm his victims instead of relying on brute force. Whatever delusions his mother might have entertained about starting a new life didn’t take the reality of her son’s obsessions into account. After his seventh year in prison, after showing exemplary behaviour throughout his stay, he was released early.
A Reformed Character
Maimie’s plans to migrate away from Glasgow never came to fruition, in no small part due to Angus’ complete lack of interest in fleeing. His time in prison had taught him a little bit about how big the world was and how little it cared about individuals. He did not need to hide away or change his name. If he walked down a street as if he owned it, then people would assume that he belonged there. He assumed the disguise of a perfectly normal man of his age in stages. First, he found himself a regular paying job with one of the firms in Edinburgh who had finished his training, then he settled into a flat of his own within the city, out from under his mother’s watchful eye. A flat similar to the one he had grown up in, only a stone’s throw away from the World’s End pub and the Royal Mile at the heart of old Edinburgh.
The next stage of his plan for normalcy was more difficult to coordinate because it involved not only assuming a mask of humanity but maintaining it, day in and day out. It took him almost a month to muster up the courage to start dating, not because of any fear of rejection, but because of the commitment that it was going to require. He met his future wife, Sarah Hamilton, in a bar on one of the few nights out that student nurses were allowed. He didn’t have to layer on much charm to persuade her to be interested in him. The years had given him time to fill out his short frame, and he was considered by most women who met him to be fairly attractive by the time he was twenty-five. Sarah lived in nurse’s accommodations attached to Edinburgh’s Eastern General Hospital at the time, so it took little to persuade her to move in with her new lover, and in a fairly short time, the two of them were ready to tie the knot.
At a small ceremony in the registrar’s office in Leith, the two of them made their vows in front of both of their families. While Angus’ older brother refused to attend, Sarah’s younger brother Gordon, then aged fifteen, was excited to spend some time with his new brother-in-law, a man he looked up to and considered to be the pinnacle of cool. Angus’ kind sister and her husband had given him a place to stay when he first came to Edinburgh, and they served as witnesses to the ceremony. Maimie was overwrought with emotion, completely delighted that her son was back on the right track to a happy, normal, life. They did not talk about his time in prison or the terrible event that had sent him there. Both Gordon and Sarah knew that Angus had spent some time behind bars, but that only added to his appeal. They had no idea what he had done.
The pair honeymooned for two weeks in Campbeltown on the Kintyre peninsula, where Sarah was impressed once again with the intensity of Angus' affection and attention. The two of them explored a little of the area, with Angus claiming to be scouting for fishing spots, but they spent the vast majority of the trip in their hotel room. On the outside, they appeared to be very much in love, in the throes of passion, but so much of Angus’ energies came from a place of darkness rather than genuine care for another person. He had Sarah captive on their honeymoon, with no distractions, and he made use of the outlet that she provided. Sarah saw his constant pawing as a good sign, an indicator that they were going to have a healthy relationship, when his nymphomaniacal fixation on her body was actually a symptom of a deeper-rooted problem. One that would come back to haunt the family again and again through the years.
Between the two of them, the new Sinclair family were doing well for themselves. Angus had gone into business for himself and was reaping the benefits of his labour directly, and Sarah was working steady shifts at the hospital. They were starting to accrue some savings and were able to move into a bigger flat together—the future was looking bright for both of them. Once Angus was confident that the marriage was secure, he began to do some pre-emptive damage control with Sarah. He sat her down a year into the marriage and explained that he had been sent to jail for killing a child. She was horrified but he already had a web of lies prepared to keep her under control.
He made sure that he was her only source of information about his crime, and he framed the story to make it seem like the killing had been accidental rather than deliberate. Sarah’s brother Gordon had been in considerable trouble with the police when he was younger, so she was familiar with the idea that people make mistakes when they are young. He played to that, and combined with the idea that she already knew him so well apart from that single incident, it was simple enough for her to put it out of her mind. He was careful never to tell her an outright lie, but he gave her enough vague information for her to form her own, more flattering picture of what had happened. If anything, this ‘show of trust’ on his part, in telling her about this horrible thing from his past, served to strengthen their relationship—which was going to prove vital to his plans in the near future when his mask of normalcy was all that stood between him and convictions.
Following the work, the couple moved to Gallowgate in Glasgow, staying with the family of one of Sarah’s older brothers. Maimie became a constant presence in their lives and Sarah grew closer to her mother-in-law. They formed a support network for the young couple that would become essential when, two years into their marriage, Sarah gave birth to their first and only son, Gary.
Maimie was delighted that Angus’ life was back on track, and she absolutely adored Gary, doting on him and spending every moment that she could helping out. With her support, Sarah was able to return to work, and before long the couple had more money than they knew what to do with. Angus was able to invest in an ice cream van to supplement his painting income, and not long after that he purchased a campe
rvan, which he would use to take his brother-in-law Gordon on ‘fishing trips’. He developed an interest in photography but would not let anyone see his pictures. He was so devoted to the privacy of his work that he set up his own darkroom rather than allow a professional to develop his pictures for him. Angus had constructed the illusion of a perfect life, and his new cheerful personality seemed to reflect the idea that he had become a normal person. He drove around the neighbourhood in his ice cream van, stopping to sell children and their parents his wares. He smiled down at little girls the same age as his first victim every single day, isolated and alone on the street with him, in easy reach of his grasping hands, and he sold them treats.
Sarah was so completely content with her life that she was able to ignore the little niggling doubts about Angus that were starting to arise. Rumours crept their way back to her that his weekend ‘fishing trips' actually involved bar hopping and loose women, but her brother was happy to corroborate any story that Angus told her, so it was difficult to doubt him. He was having almost constant affairs during those years, and on rare occasions, Sarah’s friends were able to catch him in the act and report it back to her. He instantly began begging for forgiveness and swearing that he would never be unfaithful again, as if a switch had been flipped in his head. He was using all of the women as an outlet for his sexual obsessions, Sarah included, but between their conflicting schedules and his voracious appetites, she was never available to him as much as he wanted her to be. He would pick up women in bars with Gordon as his wingman and they would have sex in the campervan that was purchased for that purpose and rarely parked far away. This still wasn’t enough for Angus. Sex and violence were intrinsically linked in his psyche, and he was not finding the satisfaction that he had hoped for in his consensual affairs, no matter how sordid. Just as he had when he was a child, he turned to crime as a way to get his blood pumping.
There was a string of violent muggings across Glasgow. Angus did not wait for his victims to offer up their property, opting instead to attack first and snatch whatever valuables he could from their unconscious bodies afterwards. He caved in one woman’s face with a claw hammer before snatching her purse. He pounced on a man from behind, hacking at him with a hatchet before stealing his watch and his wallet. While his declared income on his tax forms continually decreased and he worked less and less frequently, he never seemed to be lacking in funds. One of the criminal endeavours that he had never expected to prove so talented in was the creation of pornography, but partnering up with an elderly photographer in Dumbarton known locally as ‘Wee Eddie’ Cotogno, he was able to secure a steady income by tricking and coercing girls into posing nude for the old man.
The girls in Dumbarton had all been warned about the ‘dirty old man’, but the charming Sinclair, plying them with drinks and massaging their egos, found it much easier to convince them to take a few saucy snaps. Eddie preferred to take pictures himself, but when Angus couldn’t find young women willing to submit themselves to his lecherous gaze, he would pass the camera off to the younger man and simply buy the negatives instead, assuming that they were of a high enough ‘artistic standard’. In addition to satisfying himself with this hobby, Eddie was one of the steadiest suppliers in Scotland’s underground pornography ring, catering to tastes that were a little more adventurous than could be met by the magazines of the time. He would sometimes get special requests passed back along the grapevine that he would then pass along to Angus. Scenes that might offend even modern sensibilities, or specific combinations of appearance and situation that could not be found elsewhere. Because the content they were producing was underground, they did not have to concern themselves with laws about the age of consent or obscenity. It was lucky for Eddie that he had found a complexly amoral but charming man like Angus to do his dirty work. It is unlikely that he could have met nearly as many of his ‘special orders’ if he was working alone. He was certainly happy to pass along the financial gains that he had made as a result to Angus. The money flowed out of the pockets of some of the richest and most perverse men in the country through a series of brown envelopes and directly into the waiting hands of Angus Sinclair.
Angus was even able to put down a deposit on a brand-new house for the family not long after this new crime spree began. Violence had always been an enjoyable experience for Angus, but now he was making it into a means to an end. But he was becoming dissatisfied with keeping his two passions separate. Violence and sex were two sides to the same coin for him, and while he had done what he could over the years to keep them separated, it seemed almost inevitable that he would eventually return to his one true passion. His marriage had been living on borrowed time, just another diversion to keep him from unleashing his true cruelty on the world again, and it was failing in that task rapidly.
Frances Barker
Frances Barker came home from visiting her sister in the early evening after a long day at the City Bakeries. The taxi driver dropped her off outside her flat on Maryhill Road and then drove away. A few buildings down the road, Maimie Sinclair was currently living with her son Angus and his family, who were there to keep an eye on her due to a bout of ill health.
Frances was thirty-seven years old, but wrinkles had barely begun to appear on her heart-shaped face, and her dark hair still hadn’t lost any of its lustre. She was tired after a full day of work and a playful visit with her young niece, but she wasn’t ruling out the possibility of a quick drink at her local pub before settling down for the night. When Angus, younger than her by a few years and ever so charming, pulled up beside her in his campervan, it didn’t take much persuasion to convince her to take a lift and get a drink. This weekend Angus had left Gordon behind, taking an actual fishing trip on his own before returning to the city, so Frances sat in the front seat beside him while he drove them out of town. To begin with, she was startled at the change of plans, but a little bit of flirtatious chat soon had her convinced that they were going out to some country pub where Angus’ wife wasn’t as likely to hear reports about his seedy conduct with the lady next door. Frances had never found love in her life, flitting from one unfulfilling relationship to the next before accepting the welcoming arms of her sister’s family as a substitute for children of her own. It had only been a few years since her last fling, so she was fairly certain that she knew how this was meant to go. She had no intention of getting caught up with a married man despite his charm. After a few drinks, if he tried to get fresh, she would just ask him to take her home.
He parked abruptly by the side of the road and dragged her out of her chair and into the back where he already had a bed made. When she tried to object he shoved her over and started to wrestle her trousers down. When she resisted him, he put a hand around her throat and squeezed until her hands lost their strength. He wasn’t a huge monster of a man, but Frances was completely unprepared for his ferocity. After a few fumbling attempts to get them unbuttoned he ripped her trousers off her. He was breathing heavily and as awful as it was, Frances could at least console herself with the thought that it would be over quickly. He forced her legs apart with his knee and climbed on top of her, but she kept on clawing at him until he eventually snatched a spindle of string from under the bedcovers and bound her hands. Frances squeezed her eyes shut and tried to ignore the feeling of his hands on her bare skin. Tried to ignore him as he mounted her, as he grunted and drooled. His hands stopped roaming under her clothes and she considered it a blessing until she felt the rough press of rope across her neck.
He wrapped a knotted length of string around her throat and pulled with all the strength that his awkward leverage would provide, still thrusting and flopping on top of her as he tried to choke the life out of her body. It wasn’t enough. The world faded to grey and there was a sound like the ocean roaring in her ears, but he wasn’t pulling hard enough to kill her. She could still feel him on top of her. Inside her. She must have let out some sound because he seemed to realise that the ligature on her neck was too loose.
For one glorious instant, he was off of her and his grip loosened. Frances could breathe again, and in a wash, all the disgust that had been withheld along with oxygen came flooding back. She tried to retch, tried to vomit all over him but her crushed throat was too swollen to let her. He came back and pushed himself back inside her before she could get a proper breath to fight him off. He pressed his whole weight down onto her and gathered the ends of the string in his hands. It drew tight enough to cut into her. Her eyes bulged, and she made one final effort to force him off, but all the strength had been stolen from her. He pulled the string taut and arched his back with one final lethal thrust. Blessed darkness took her, and she didn’t have to endure another moment of his touch. He had finished some time in the midst of all that. Somewhere between the first cut of string into flesh and the jerk.
