The King in Yellow Chapter Two

MARIE-CLAUDE’S SUBMISSION

A young woman knocked and hesitantly put her head around the door of the Criminology Team office. “Excuse me, I’m looking for the chief investigator” she said.

“Come in, please” said Katya, opening the door to a beautiful woman in her early twenties, tall and slim-hipped in jeans and a sweater, carrying a backpack with the crest of the Technical Institute. “You must be Dana” she said, taking her hand. “Please call me Katya”. The girl smiled prettily. “I had them bring lunch” she continued “and my diary is clear for the rest of the afternoon”. They took their seats and both smiled when they laid identical ministry binders on the table between them.

“It’s so kind of you to make time for me” Dana said.

“Not at all” Katya told her. “I read your work with particular interest. I think your approach is very like my own” she smiled into Dana’s eyes “and there is no doubt in my mind that this is the right internship for you”. Caught off-guard, the girl began to blurt out her thanks until Katya put a hand on her arm to stop her, and she grinned winningly as she regained her composure.

“Then this isn’t an interview. Am I starting work already?” Dana asked, surprised.

“Not quite” said Katya and took a folder from her binder. “I made these notes as a final-year student, nearly twenty years ago. I sat in when the professor interviewed Grigori K at the beginning of his sentence. He – my teacher – took ill shortly afterwards and did not recover, so the notes were never reviewed and published”. Dana leant in closer, her face aglow with excitement.

“This is wonderful” she exclaimed. “I thought I’d read everything about the Marie-Claude murder”. She blushed a little. Katya moved her chair beside Dana’s and opened the folder on the table in front of them.

“Nobody has seen this” she said. “I read your thesis on compliant victims before it was withdrawn by the university senate. I thought it was very perceptive”. She held up her hand when Dana started to thank her. “I know that we can work together,” she continued, “because I know that we have the same perspective”. She began to read and soon they were both transported to the disturbing atmosphere of the old regime’s demi monde.

“My name is Grigori and I was the owner of the Carcosa private club on Brechova Street in Mirenburg. This is my account of the events of the sixteenth of February, when the woman I knew as Marie-Claude came to my establishment”.

It was past midnight on a Tuesday in February, and the two brick-lined vaults which constituted the Carcosa Club were quiet. The few regular customers had amused themselves earlier in the evening by abusing Alexandra and were now relaxing together in front of an imported Japanese video, smoking and finishing their brandies. Alexandra was softly moaning where they had finished with her, chained by her wrists to the ceiling and locked into a steel chastity belt.