The King in Yellow Chapter Thirteen

MARIA

Katya showed Maria into her office and, taking a long-neglected key, locked the door behind them. Maria was an advocate of some distinction, about Katya’s own age, tall and slim with an oval face framed by waves of chestnut hair. They had worked together in the past, but it had been a surprise to be asked for a private meeting after working hours and Katya was intrigued.

“May I use your computer?” Maria asked, and they sat together at the desk while her elegant fingertips played over the keys. “I’m sure you have happened across this footage during your investigations, Katya” she said, as the screen began to stream a pornographic film. Katya recognised it at once.

“Of course,” she replied. “It’s been analysed and we’re sure it is not a genuine death. But I do think the woman on the bed perhaps came closer than she expected” she added, with a brittle laugh. In the film a naked, oiled woman wearing nothing but a gag and a hood like a falcon’s was being led on a leash by a blonde dominatrix to a bed where another woman waited with four loops of rope. The mistresses were rather hard-faced and severe in their leather outfits but had an undeniable erotic power. Maria’s eyes never left the screen.

“I agree” she said. “But this is a lead to something darker. I just need to capture the image at the right moment. Do you see the tablet by the bed? I’m watching for when it changes”. The film continued in silence. The hooded woman was tied face down, spread-eagled, and the two dominatrices started the cruel and relentless whipping which excited rumour insisted she would not survive. A few minutes after the blood began to flow Maria leant forward intently and deftly made a grab of a small corner of the picture. She expanded it, and Katya put a hand on her shoulder as she drew closer to see.

“It’s a King in Yellow address” Katya said, excitedly.

“Yes” Maria nodded. “And it only appears for a second on the device in the background”. She loaded a new screen. “I don’t think any of you have seen this film” she said, her voice suddenly unsteady.

The new scene opened in a baroque bed chamber, furnished in the imperial manner. A beautiful, long-haired woman reclined on the bed, wearing a yellow satin nightdress, gently stroking herself and slowly allowing her fingers to creep closer towards her moist cleft. Her almond eyes ranged around the candle-lit room and over to the undraped window. A man’s grim face stared back at her out of the darkness, hungrily eyeing her lewdly exposed form. Katya gave an involuntary start. It was Andrei.

The woman rose gracefully, opened the window and backed slowly away to the bed. He clambered over the sill and stood for a moment – tall and muscular in black jeans, sweater and woollen cap – and pulled a length of fresh, yellow cord from his pocket.