The King in Yellow Chapter Seventeen

DANA’S SACRIFICE

On the pavement outside one of the workers’ cafés by the wharves Grigori leant back expansively in his iron bistro chair, raising a glass of raki to his full lips. He was enjoying the situation, relishing Katya’s nervousness as she visibly shrank into her seat before him, trembling deliciously.

“My family vault is unattended overnight” she said, handing him the key. “There will be no question of embalming and no need for an autopsy,” she went on “so my body will be washed and ready for you”.

“It could still go wrong,“ he grinned “you might still live”. She looked away, confused. Grigori took her hand in what an onlooker would have thought was a reassuring gesture. “Understand me.” he said in a quiet, commanding tone “It is all in hand. The escape should be a simple thing – will be a simple thing, unless you are betraying us”. Katya gripped Grigori’s hand and stared into his eyes.

“Then command me to prove myself” she begged, in a low voice.

“You have been filmed with the dogs” he replied “and that footage can be used for blackmail. Of course, it will be released when you are dead and your memory will be utterly defiled”. Her eyes widened and her tongue churned behind sharp, white teeth. “But we sent for you today to take you beyond that” he continued, chillingly. Katya lowered her eyes and her trembling fingers fell slowly away from his. He stood, put down a banknote to cover the bill, and headed across the road without a word.

She followed him along the towpath at a discrete distance and then through deserted streets at the edge of town to a district of condemned factories and warehouses, isolated behind barbed wire and warning notices. She lost sight of him for a moment, and then a light truck was driving through the empty roads towards her.