Unbind (65 page)

“Whatever you want, Claudia.”

After Claudia left, Claire read the suicide note left pinned to the last painting Claudia was ever meant to paint. It read:
I’m going to be at peace.

Could we ever have peace? While we lived and there was a fight to face? Was there a peace on the other side, or not?

The painting was just as foul as all the others. Something out of a nightmare, yet a truth Claire now understood. It might have appeared even more nightmarish than usual, now that Claire knew Claudia was fully awake, fully aware and operating.

Claire decided two things:

The first… to hide the painting as requested.

The second… to hope nobody ever saw it again.

I WENT BACK to basics. To my early training days, as a rookie on the
Sheffield Telegraph.
If there was something to solve here, I’d get to the bottom of it. There was a source… always a source. Of everything. It was just getting to that source.

I holed up in a nothing hotel in Harlem where nobody could find me. I used a pseudonym and didn’t specify the length of my stay, even though days stretched into a week and then longer.

I chased round town in a hat and big coat, evading anyone who might know me.

Sherlock Holmes said that when you’ve ‘eliminated the impossible, whatever remains,
however improbable
, must be the truth’… and so I tried to bear that in mind.

The first thing I came to the conclusion of was that Claudia/Jennifer was too calculated to be split. Too rational. The multiple personality disorder was a cover, a way to get Cai’s sympathy. People who had it often lost track of time while they switched from one alter to another—she was far too able for a person meant to have lost her marbles. Maybe she’d researched it, even, and knew exactly how to pull it off—make people think she really did suffer this particular mental illness.

I just needed motive.

Money: always a motive.

Nobody was beyond needing money, wanting it, chasing it.

$50,000,000. That is how much Cai was set to inherit, so I’d been led to believe.

I spent time in public records and called some friends in London to see what they could dig up. What I discovered was papers relating to the aforementioned investments, which apparently did exist after all. Chester did invest. Those shares did accrue. That part was true.

So who’d want money? Well, Claudia had enough. Who else? Cai, perhaps. Although I felt certain even just one million bucks would be enough for him. So… somebody else in the mix was interested in that money.

Why did Jennifer/Claudia treat Cai so badly? Perhaps he reminded Claudia of Philippe? Perhaps he was corrupted. I had to consider every angle if I were to nail this.

My hotel room was a freaking mess and I’d told reception not to let a maid in. I didn’t want my post-its or my boxes moved. I’d never find anything once it was all taken apart. It was organised chaos—everything I felt relating to this mystery written down should I need to pluck a certain piece of information from the archive.

Meanwhile a nifty bit of digging on the internet produced a number of interesting items. Around the time Jennifer began working at
Frame
as an assistant editor (a title that was a long way off creative director) much speculation appeared in the gossip columns about Jennifer having had plastic surgery. So, the difference was noticed. It wasn’t frowned upon of course, not in
her world
. My search also dug up one other interesting feature of Jennifer’s rise to power. Within only a year at
Frame
, she became Queen Bee. She was described as ‘an unstoppable force of nature… a woman empowered in the wake of the tragic death of sister… her influence overshadowing everyone else’s… the ultimate style guru…’ and the list went on. I got the feeling whoever was the prior incumbent of creative director, had pretty much been pushed out to make way for ‘Jennifer’. I’d seen how people responded to her. I couldn’t even describe it to you but she was so mysterious… it did make you think she was untouchable. Higher. Just, a woman to be reckoned with.

I also found a public record that revealed the lawyers who’d dealt with the gallery sale before Cai got his hands on the deeds. A bit of grovelling and I was given a description of the man who paid cash, in full, to give that gallery to Cai. The description was unmistakable. Klaus had an unusual look… and when the guy said ‘like Dracula’… I knew. It had to be.

One, Klaus Häuser.

A joke, maybe? Why would he give some guy a gallery? Why would Cai hate someone who’d been kind to him… unless of course he was still ignorant of his benefactor’s name? I knew that ‘Jennifer’ and Klaus were acquaintances… but why? How?

I knew I needed to talk to him so one night, I walked out to some unrecognisable backstreet café that looked like it shouldn’t have had WiFi but did.

I sat in a scruffy but comfy-as-hell armchair, hidden behind a corner. I drank three lattes before feeling ready. I took out my iPad and Skyped him. After about three missed calls, he finally rang back.

He appeared flustered, like he’d just been up to no good. He tied a silk dressing gown round his waist and left a bedroom to visit a kitchen in some house, somewhere.

“I don’t hear from you in ages and then… here you are,” he chuckled. “Mind you, I always expected this call.”

He placed his corresponding device down on a kitchen island, or something, and I had to watch while he fixed a drink for himself, then returned to the table to talk to me. I knew I didn’t have long before the WiFi gave out so I forgot the trivial.

“Why did you put me in Cai’s path?” I stared down my nose, not needing condescension.

“Hmm.” He smiled, his dark eyes shining. “What’s happened?”

“You don’t get anything until you spill your guts first.”

He rubbed a hand over his tired face and I guiltily realised it would be late into the night in Europe. I’d completely lost track of time as I worked all hours to find out the truth about that bitch.

“It’s true, the saying… it’s not what you know, but who you know and knowing who to trust, Chloe. When I first met you, I saw the type of woman men struggle to fathom. You don’t know it but you frighten most men, petal, because you’ve no idea of your own power. However I saw it as soon as we met.”

I clucked my tongue and rolled my eyes. “We don’t have much time, Klaus. Please get to the point.”

“An artist needs his muse, Chloe. Placing you there, amongst those stuffed shirts, he was bound to notice you. I knew it. I just had to do a bit of dirty work… get you ready for that world.”

He wore a smirk I didn’t like, an arrogance I would slap off if he stood before me.

“You mistake me, Klaus. You think I have called to tell you the secrets you obviously thought I would run tittle-tattling about. I love him and while it irks me that my life has been inveigled by your dirty direction, that is not why I am calling to ask you for help.”

“Oh, my help? Help, you say?” He mocked, a hand cupping his jaw nonchalantly.

“Firstly, why did you buy him that gallery?”

He looked impressed. “Simple. She seemed too eager to control him. Anyone could see he was desperate to run free, especially after the debacle of that marriage. I wanted to know why… why she had him fighting… clawing… for a way out. I wanted to tip the scale… give him some hope of escape, but also something he had to work for. I’m not a selfless man, Chloe… I see his talent like I see yours. I guess I must get that from my father. After all, he dragged Claudia and Jennifer from obscurity. I derive a little pleasure from knowing I helped you both.”

“You meddled? For what?” I narrowed my eyes on the callous prick.
Gawd
.
Who do these people think they are, ruling the world?

“Two reasons. Influence… and experimentation. They go hand in hand. She had him so wound tight, didn’t she? ’Til you came along and spoiled all that.” Klaus chuckled mischievously.

“She tried to ruin me. My nudity on display for everyone to see… it’s not funny, you know? The worst thing is that I didn’t want my name involved… I just wanted people to believe in that shoot. Now everybody just thinks it was a stunt. Or smut.”

His face crumpled. “No. I know. You know? I know, if you know what I am talking about?”

I shook my head. “What do you think
I know
?”

He threw his head back in frustration. “Let’s just say, when I was a much younger man of 20 and just starting out, I became enamoured with an old acquaintance of my father’s. She was a woman 16 years my senior. We were casual for three or four years before she said she was moving to New York. Suddenly, in the wake of her sister’s death, she called it all off. Out of the blue. We were about to marry… we were going to try and make it work in New York so she could be close to the sister she had missed for so many years. I don’t know why we were so fascinated with each other but the age gap never seemed to matter… until she turned around and said it did.”

“You and Jennifer? Really?”
Wow. Turn up for the books. Small world.

He nodded slowly and a pause followed. Then I admitted, “I know. I know what you think I know. You know? So… what’s your theory?”

“My theory? Hmm. Cai knows something and she doesn’t want him to blurt it out. She’s controlled him for that reason. He must know how she killed
my
Jennifer.”

I never liked to talk on the phone. It meant I couldn’t psychoanalyse people’s physiognomy. I was glad I could see his expressions because I caught a whiff of something suspicious in his eyes and tried to steer him off course. “She claims
he
did it. When I went up to Connecticut and endured the Christmas from hell, she claimed he was guilty. She had it investigated and everything, over and over again.”

One eyebrow of his raised and he laughed, shaking his head. “So that’s why she’s living Jennifer’s life? Hmm? Sure… Jennifer was a bitch, you know? That fraud, however… took it to a whole new level. I knew it wasn’t her the second the reports of plastic surgery hit. You can’t fake the eyes. My father found that Claudia had a propensity for playing different characters so he sent her to a specialist in Prague when she was 21. He never knew which person he was talking to with her. You could say she was his undoing. He was always trying to help her out but at his own expense. He felt sorry for her? I don’t know. I just know she was fucked up.”

“Multiple personality,” I said, and Klaus nodded.

“I’ve spent the past week scouring the city and I’ve turned up absolutely nothing, Klaus. She locked this down. She’s got us all caught up in this. Even you?”

He nodded, annoyed to admit it. “She has me do a favour for her now and again… I do it in the hope it will slip her up. Perhaps she dug a few of my secrets out, you know? She likes blackmail. That’s her tactic… pulling files on people… their pasts. Uses it against them. I might have had some unlawful connections at one time or another… haven’t we all done it to leverage capital? She probably knew about your dirt before you even slid into
his
bed.”

“I know you’re right,” I smirked. “She just likes the game too much?”

“She loves the game. Loves it.”

I realised with sadness the reason Klaus never sought any happiness for himself. The love he’d lost… he must have pined for. A sad story.

“How many other girls did you try to fix him up with?” I said with a hint of distaste.

Klaus smiled a cocky grin. “I looked for a long time for the right woman with the right skills and an actual heart. Even a heartless pig such as myself who gave up on love long ago had his head turned by you. It was fated, though… don’t you think? The way you like to fight… so does he.”

I shook my head at him and said in a shaky voice, “She doesn’t know how to fail. She sat there with my heart in her palm and tried to break it. She put all the things I love into one pot… Cai… my work… my battles… and manipulated the lot. She’s lost to whatever drives her. She will never succumb, Klaus. She’s entirely too clever. I’ve not come across a single person yet who views her as anything but a saint. Since she got to the top, she’s held that mantle anyway.”

Klaus sighed. “I must get back to bed. I rise in 60 minutes apparently… early flight. Listen if you love him, hang onto him. I know from experience all too well how quickly the love you thought you had can be cruelly snatched away. She will come undone but it might be a matter of time. Until then hang onto who you are.”

“Goodnight, Klaus.”

“Goodnight.” I feigned a half-hearted smile.

I sat in that café until I was thrown out at closing time. Braving the chill outside as I walked back to that crummy hotel, it all started to hurt my brain. I was ready to give up. If she thought she’d won, she was yet to gloat. After all, she had my contact details and no doubt a detail on my ass.

I thought about going back to Cai and trying to salvage some of my dignity. It wasn’t fair, though. I didn’t want to go back to Media Solutions and Cai deserved to flourish without her choking his talent. We’d come too far to turn back now.