Header: Detail from an issue of Detective Year Book, bindher.com

Footer: TV series, Hunter, ‘The Legion’ with Stephanie Kramer, Van’s site

The journey was uneventful, but unendurably long. For the three helpless young women bound and silenced in the back of the van, the hours stretched ahead in a seemingly never-ending horror of pain and suffocation. The ropes felt as though they were permanently embedded into their limbs and bodies. The gags tied between their mouths over the heavy silk hoods covering their heads and faces encouraged stifling. After a few minutes of this, Melody and Mia had drooled into the material imprisoning their faces, making air-tight bubbles of silk over their mouths. The meagre threads of air that they were able to inhale through their noses were all that kept them alive.

They could feel their breasts heaving against one another in their efforts to breathe. The physical proximity comforted them. It imparted a frisson of the sexual, especially when their pelvic mounds rubbed together disconcertingly. But the pleasure was offset by the fight for survival. Melody found herself making faint strangled ‘gk’ sounds in her throat, straining for every breath. Occasionally she heard Mia whimper. That was out of character for her friend, who had absorbed all that Karl dished out to her with scarcely a murmur. The physical closeness and the stuffiness of the van’s interior heated up their bodies, which were now glued together by their mingled sweat as well as by the cruelly tight ropes.

Melody wondered what Jasmine Morris was feeling. The girl lay near them somewhere further to the back of the van. Jasmine’s low continuous whimpering suggested that she was in greater distress than Melody and Mia, if that was possible. But Jasmine’s younger. She’s seen less of life. And Mia and I are thirty-something, ‘women of the world,’ thought Melody.

But Melody was not at all sure that it made much difference. Who am I kidding? She felt as frightened and disconsolate as Jasmine must feel, and she knew Mia was experiencing the same. She remembered her own panic, screaming through that pear gag against the leather hood the night before. Well, things could be worse, she thought resignedly. At least we’re not corseted up in bondage leather. The ropes were bad enough, and efficient. All those stories about heroines getting free by their own efforts when bound and gagged were totally unrealistic. If someone really wants to tie you up they’ll do it, and there is no escape. We just have to wait for our captors to take pity on us. Or, more likely they’ll change our bonds when we get to our destination, wherever that can be. We must have been travelling for hours.

Jasmine Morris knew only that she was lying bound hand and foot in a vehicle of some sort. She was still gagged with packing and a cloth bandaged across her mouth. The blindfold remained in place, and her ears were still plugged. To all intents and purposes, she was alone, crying disconsolately into her gag, unaware that Melody and Mia lay within a few feet from her, trussed face to face.

Jasmine was not as immobilised as her fellow prisoners, but her bonds were very secure. As well as being tied at the wrists, the young woman was now bound at the elbows so that her arms were stretched painfully behind her into the centre of her back. Her legs were tied together above the knees. Her ankles in turn were linked to her wrists by a couple of feet of cord, making a loose hogtie that discouraged movement. She had Karl to thank for that. The disorientation caused by blindfold and earplugs, and her continued hysteria, made sure that Jasmine’s movements were severely limited.

The van with its hapless cargo continued in its travels. Melody grew accustomed to the dull thrumming of the tyres on the road. She had been lying on her back with Mia, the smaller woman, moulded to her body on top. But now, by a mutual and necessarily unspoken agreement, they had managed to roll to one side. By now the hours of sleep and respite at Tilly’s house counted for very little. They were both sore, aching in every muscle, their mouths dry and chafing under the silks that bound them. Trussed up as they were side by side, tightly face to face, the slightest movement of one was felt by the other.

Melody began to wonder whether Mia was starting to crack. Her companion had ceased whimpering, but Mia’s periodic straining against her bonds was now replaced by an uncontrollable trembling that communicated itself to Melody in a very unsettling way. Melody had learnt to lie soft and relaxed in her ropes, as Mia had practised and now seemed to have forgotten. With a rush of compassion for her friend, Melody nuzzled her silk-bound face against that of Mia. It had a calming effect on them both that was at one level reassuring and, at another level, erotic. Melody felt that under the circumstances both emotions were admissible. It’s a woman thing, she thought again, and Mia is such a brave person.

By the time the van turned off the freeway onto a minor road liberally potholed, Melody and Mia were lying calmly, as though in each other’s embrace. The difference was that their arms were bound securely behind them. One of the causes of Mia’s discomfort was having her hands secured palm to palm. During the hours of their captivity, the strain in her shoulders and down her back had become unbearable. The trembling was part of her body’s reaction to the pain and, while the comfort of Melody’s warmth helped to raise her spirits, the physical distress only now was bearable because her arms had grown numb. Melody’s holding up well. She’s a real trooper, thought Mia. I hope we get there soon, wherever it is. Her experiences as a bound prisoner on so many other occasions made her ultra sensitive to the dangers of restricted circulation and the risk of nerve damage. Mia was becoming frightened about it.

Melody began to feel that their long agonising journey was nearing its end. It was hard to guess how much time had passed, but she thought that they must have been driving for at least two hours. She could compare the feelings of bodily distress in her bonds now with the time in the old house where they had also been held for hours.

The length of the journey, and now the swaying and bouncing of the van over rougher ground, suggested to both women that they were somewhere in the country. Whether this was along the coast or in the mountains was uncertain. Melody guessed that they were still at sea level because there had been no popping of the ears that would have accompanied a steep ascent. But the thick silk of their hoods and gags prevented them from scenting or tasting salt air. Perhaps we’re not close enough to the sea, thought Melody. There’s plenty of open and wooded country between the mountains and the coast. I hope they take our gags off soon. I can’t stand it much longer. But she knew that she had no choice. It was entirely possible that they would be held bound and gagged for many hours to come.

*

When the vehicle bumped to a stop over what sounded like loose stones or gravel, events happened quickly. The three women felt the van rock as their captors disembarked. The sliding door opened, and the ropes holding Melody and Mia together were cut away. But they had little opportunity to luxuriate in the greater but still very limited freedom it gave. Mia felt herself lifted by two of the men (Karl and Johnny Montague) and carried out of the van some distance until she heard the sound of footfalls on wooden boards and a door opening. Similarly, Jasmine Morris was carried by Brentford and Orly, Brentford softly clucking encouraging words to their trussed prisoner who heard none of it because of the plugs in her ears. Melody was carried by the fifth man alone, big Bill Hudson. She felt the tenderness of his strong arms and she guessed who it was. But while Melody would have heard the man’s words, Hudson did not choose to speak.

But Hudson was thinking. He was thinking very deeply, and a plan was beginning to form in the mind of the old ex-wrestler. For that matter, Brentford and Orly’s minds were not idle. There were plans afoot. But the other gang members also had motives of their own, and a new factor was about to be entered into the equation.

Melody had the same auditory impressions as Mia. Heavy footfalls on floor boards, the front porch of the country house to which they had been taken, as the procession carrying the three captives entered. There followed faint scuffing sounds as carpet was trod.

‘Set em down here,’ grunted Montague. Melody felt herself placed on a thick plush carpet, back to back with Mia and Jasmine. ‘They might as well have their gags off,’ Montague continued. ‘There’s nothing here that’ll be any help to them. No one will hear if they yell for help. Except us. And we know what to do about that. Understand, ladies?’ Two prisoners nodded in silent unison. Jasmine was still fully occluded.

Melody felt hands at the back of her head, fingers working on the knots, and the gag between her teeth came away. There followed a peeling away of the sweat-saturated silken hood from her face and head. She blinked and tears came to her eyes in the sudden light. She worked her jaw and licked her dry lips. A soft groan came from Mia as her face was freed. Melody shook her head and took deep breaths. It was country air. And it felt so good she almost cried.

The freeing of Jasmine’s head and face, and the removal of her earplugs, made the dam burst. Jasmine began whining uncontrollably in a high pitched voice that set both Melody and Mia on edge.

‘Hold on, my lovely,’ said Brentford, and Jasmine’s wailing was cut short as a thick handkerchief was bound tightly between her jaws again. Got to do this, old girl, thought Brentford worriedly. In your hysteria you might give us away.

‘Better do the same for the other two,’ said Karl, eager to join in and not suspecting Brentford’s more politic motive.

Because of Jasmine’s hysteria, the other two women were gagged again. Mia and Melody did not attempt to resist. They were too exhausted. They were gagged in the same way as Jasmine, with handkerchiefs tied very tightly between their jaws. Like before, it was enough to keep them silent. At least we don’t have those awful hoods over our heads again, thought Melody hopelessly. She could not blame Jasmine. Being bound, gagged and blindfolded for hours was no fun, and she had succumbed to hysteria herself when the chips were down. More of the same, she thought. At least the handkerchiefs were clean. They felt brand new, crisp and smooth, their napping stiff, straight from the department store shelf.

Melody looked at their surroundings. More salubrious than our earlier prisons, she thought ironically. The room had not only a plush carpet from wall to wall, it had also wall to wall art deco furnishings. In dreadful taste, but also dreadfully expensive. We’re in a rich person’s pad, thought Melody. Quite a step up for the gang. What’s going on? Melody had a very uneasy feeling. Money meant, if not always power, a lot more resources than a bunch of petty jewel robbers could boast. It could mean a lot more evil too. Mia was thinking along similar lines. We’re getting closer to the top. Oh Melody, what have we got ourselves into?

The room was becoming crowded with the three bound women and their five male captors.

‘Eh, Hudson,’ said Johnny Montague, ‘How’s about rustling up some grub? There’s plenty in the kitchen.’

‘Sure boss.’

‘I say,’ said Cuthbert Brentford, ‘Rupert’s a dab hand at scrambled eggs. We’ll join you.’ At the door, Brentford paused and turned. ‘Uh, what about the ladies? I daresay they could do with breakfast.’

‘Yeah. We’ll think about it,’ answered Karl. The tone of his voice suggested to Melody that their comfort was the last of his considerations. Reluctantly, Brentford and Orly left, following Hudson who shuffled ahead of them.

Melody realised for the first time how hungry she was. But she was more parched with thirst. The dry gag in her mouth made it worse.

‘Maybe they should have something to eat,’ mused Montague. ‘They’re no use to us if they’re too weak to answer questions.’

‘Only one,’ Karl countered. ‘Miss golden goose here.’ He leered down at Melody. ‘Let’s put them in separate rooms, like we did before. They might untie each other if we leave them together.’

Fat chance of that, thought Melody grimly, with you bastards watching and our arms numb and useless behind us. Like Mia, Melody’s bonds were too tight, and she feared that she could lose the use of her hands. In fact, the hands of all three women were swollen, and looked a little like rubber gloves.

‘Let’s feed them first,’ replied Montague stubbornly. ‘And they should have their ropes loosened. We don’t have anything to fear from them. They’re obviously too exhausted to run away.’

‘You’re too soft. All we need to know is where that diamond is hidden. Then it doesn’t matter what happens to them. But I’ve got plans for this one.’ Karl indicated Mia.

‘Shit, there’s more in this game than you think Karl,’ Montague replied testily. ‘Don’t you have any idea whose place this is? Look around you. I told you before, there’s big bucks in this for us. But we’ve got to play it right.’

‘I’ve got my own game,’ said Karl. ‘First we’ll get Miss Moneybags here to come clean on that diamond, then we’ll take our cut, then I’ll take Miss Chantal here and you can do what you like with the others.’

‘That’s got to be run past our employer. We don’t have that luxury, you fool.’

‘You never said a truer word, Johnny.’

It was a new voice, a woman’s voice, that rang out across the room. Johnny Montague and Karl swung round, varying degrees of astonishment on their faces. Melody and Mia turned to look. Jasmine was the only one who took no interest. She sat with her head bowed and seemed scarcely conscious.

A tall, dark haired woman clad from boots to neck in a leather jump suit stood in the doorway, her hands on her hips. The newcomer would have been hauntingly beautiful if it was not for the cruel twist to her mouth and the hard, cold eyes that seemed to bore into Melody’s soul.

Who is this woman? thought Melody.

Johnny Montague answered Melody’s unspoken question for her. ‘Molly the Gun!’ he breathed in recognition.

Molly, aka The Gun, strode into the room and stood above the three captives. The look on her face could be described best as predatory.

‘I’ll take over from here,’ she said peremptorily. ‘Karl, be a good fellow and go check the cars. You’ll find the Merc parked round the back. Take the van there too and put them both out of sight, in camouflage, especially so they can’t be seen from the air.’

‘Yes ma’am,’ said Karl respectfully. He left quickly, completely changed in his demeanour from the confident bullying persona of a minute before.

‘Well, well,’ said the leather suited woman cheerfully, ‘three new recruits. Yes, that’s a good idea to separate them. We’ll give them individual attention. Johnny, my dear boy, attend to them one at a time. Our two English henchmen Brentford and Orly can give you a hand. These women need to be brought up to scratch. Bonds and gags will remain necessary, but not at this time I think.’

Johnny Montague stepped forward. ‘If I might suggest, Ma’am, we should begin with Melody Hazard. She’s not yet told us all we need to know about the diamond.’

‘Is that so? Yes, start with her by all means. Take her up to one of the bedrooms and prepare her. I’ll follow later and make certain she’s secure. You and I need to have a little talk,’ she added, turning to Melody. ‘Your recalcitrance won’t do at all.’

The cords binding Melody’s legs and ankles were cut free and she was helped to her feet by Montague. As he led her from the room, with surprising gentleness, Melody cast a worried look over her shoulder towards Mia. Her friend’s brow was knitted with puzzlement and her eyes were dilating in fear. Mia knows something about this woman, thought Melody. But gagged as they were, and under the sharp eyes of Johnny Montague and the woman, there was no opportunity to communicate beyond the brief moment of eye contact. Then Melody found herself in the hallway approaching a wide rise of carpeted stairs.

Johnny Montague gently propelled Melody into the first room at the head of the stairs. It was a sumptuously furnished bedroom, with art deco appointments at least as hideous as those in the living room from which they had just come.

With a few swift movements, Montague cut away the cords that bound Melody’s arms and wrists. She bit down hard on her gag at the pain of returning circulation, but was unable to stifle a groan. With surprising tenderness, Johnny Montague untied her gag and gently prised it from her mouth. Melody gulped in a wave of fresh air and succumbed instantly to a fit of coughing. She was lowered into a large cushioned armchair near the bed and left a moment as the man disappeared into the en suite bathroom. When he returned, he held a glass of water in his hands. He had to steady it at Melody’s lips because her fingers were shaking and useless.

‘Th- thank you,’ she managed to say.

‘Don’t try to talk. Drink slowly. And it’ll take a while for your arms to return to normal.’

Montague disappeared into the bathroom again. When he returned this time he held a small bottle. He tipped a little of the contents into his hands and took one of Melody’s arms. Melody found to her surprise that it was baby oil and that Johnny Montague was doing a good job of massaging her limb back to life. She gave herself up to his ministrations and did not complain when he transferred his efforts to the deep rope burns in her ankles and legs. He ended by untying the small silk neckerchief from her throat - it had become a grimy sweat-soaked rag by now - and massaged her face, neck and shoulders. Exhausted as she was, Melody could not have resisted Montague if he had taken it into his head to violate her. But he worked confidently and with a completely professional air.

‘Thank you,’ Melody said again. ‘You - you really are a gentleman.’

‘Are you strong enough to use the bathroom? I can’t help you there and, between you and me, I don’t think you should wait for that woman to help you.’

He did not elaborate, and Melody let it ride, though her curiosity was aroused. She found that she could walk to the bathroom without assistance.

‘Only five minutes,’ warned Montague. ‘Then Molly will be coming. You must be ready for her. I’m sorry,’ he added in reply to Melody’s questioning look, ‘I don’t know much about her except that she’s our rich employer’s right hand. We’re small fry. Don’t pay any attention to what Karl might say. He knows only as much as me and Hudson.’

Five minutes was not long enough for her to luxuriate under the hot shower, but it was sufficient to ease the pain in her body and help Melody feel a little refreshed. When she returned to the bedroom she found her clothes folded neatly over the back of the chair. They were dirty, creased and torn, but they were all she had. She dressed quickly in the satin skirt and silk blouse, folding the almost ruined scarf into a small square and placing it in a nearly invisible pocket in the skirt.

There was a polite knock at the door, and when she opened it - wonderful to have the small freedom to perform that action - it was Brentford proudly bearing a large plate of scrambled eggs, toast and bacon.

‘Ah, my dear. Breakfast.’ He closed the door and looked around conspiratorially. ‘There’s nothing we can do at the moment, Melody dear. The security below is as tight as a sardine tin. Karl’s prowling about like a lost soul, and Hudson’s washing the cars. And there’s that woman ...’

‘I’ve got a bad feeling about her,’ said Melody.

‘Us too,’ replied Brentford. ‘I don’t know where she fits into the picture.’

‘She’s supposed to be the employer’s right hand woman, whoever he is.’

‘Oh we know that,’ said Brentford. ‘A cove named Murgatroyd.’

‘I’m supposed to have his diamond,’ said Melody after a moment’s thought.

‘That’s why you’re in this whole thing. But can’t chat. Eat, Melody my dear. That woman’s busying herself with the lovely Mia Chantal, and I think you’ll be next on her list.’

‘Are Mia and I, and Jasmine, going to be bound and gagged again?’

‘I’m afraid that’s a strong possibility. But I really don’t know what plans that woman has.’

Brentford exited and Melody set to work on the breakfast. It was accompanied with fruit juice and a glass of water. When she had eaten, Melody felt better than she had for many hours. She used the bathroom again and waited in the armchair for the next deal that fate might have in store. It was not long in coming.

Melody was roused from her reverie by the sound of the key turning in the lock. When the door swung open, the strange woman called Molly and nicknamed The Gun stood on the threshold, a small Browning automatic in her hand.

‘It’s just a precaution, dearie,’ explained Molly with a small shrug as Melody satabruptly to attention. ‘This little toy won’t hurt you, unless you have funny ideas about trying to get past me to escape into the countryside.’

‘I- I won’t give you any trouble,’ Melody stammered.

‘I didn’t think you would. So you’ll do the next thing I tell you. Stand up!’ Melody obeyed. ‘Good. Remove your clothes.’ Melody complied reluctantly. She was beginning to tremble with apprehension. ‘Good. A little slow however. You’ll have to do better than that when you’re asked again.’ Melody stood facing Molly, one arm across her full breasts and the other hand covering her sex. ‘My, we are a trifle modest aren’t we? You shouldn’t hide assets like those my dear. But I’ll put you out of your misery. Go to the wardrobe.’ Melody turned and stepped to the built-in wardrobe that filled one entire wall of the room. ‘Open that first door. Good. Choose one of the dresses you see hanging there and put it on. Don’t worry about underclothing.’

Melody chose a green and white patterned dress of shiny satin. It was such a beautiful garment that she gasped under her breath at the feel of it as she pulled it on. This woman has good taste in clothes. It must have cost a packet. The dress buttoned to her throat and had long sleeves. She thought that if she was lucky her wrist bonds might be tied over the cuffs when the time came, which she guessed was not far off. The cool satin caressed her body with every movement as she stepped into the centre of the room, sending an electric thrill through Melody’s back.

‘That’s a good choice my dear,’ said Molly with an approving smile. ‘The colours complement your hair, though the material itself is so beautiful that its colour doesn’t really matter. You have excellent taste. Now, I have a surprise for you. What you are wearing is your nightdress. I now require you to lie on the bed. Good. You’re learning fast. The three of you have experienced a long, exhausting night and so I’m allowing you to rest, as comfortably as possible under the circumstances. That won’t be very comfortable, by the way.’

From her shoulder bag Molly produced a pair of handcuffs and walked to the head of the bed. ‘Give me your wrist,’ she ordered. Melody obeyed with a sinking feeling. If she was bound with rope she had a chance to find a way of freeing herself. But handcuffs would make her stay put. She winced as the cold steel clicked into place around her left wrist. ‘Raise your arms. Higher! Don’t pull back!’ Melody obeyed, liking the situation less and less. The short chain attaching the handcuffs was passed over the metal frame of the bed head. Next her other wrist was imprisoned. Melody now lay with her arms raised above her against the bed frame. Her head rested upon the pillow but her arms were so stretched that she could make very little movement.

Walking to the foot of the bed, Molly produced a leather strap from her bag, crossed Melody’s ankles, bound two turns of the strap around them and tied off a double knot. She then tied the other end of the strip to part of the frame at the foot of the bed. ‘How tight should I stretch you I wonder? No, you have to get some sleep out of this. I must say my dear that I’m torn between training you and allowing you time to rest up. I think a little of both. We don’t want you kicking things over with your feet like that woman in the movie.’ The leather strap was tied with some play in it, allowing Melody to bend her knees a little.

This time from her bag Molly produced a roll of white medical adhesive tape. ‘Put your lips together please. Don’t let me see you turn your head away! Ahh yes.’ Melody’s lips were now sealed together by tape so wide that it covered the lower part of her face from just below her nose to the valley just above the point of her chin. Molly smoothed the cloth down carefully, almost lovingly, across Melody’s face. It was the same kind of tape that had been used on her by Johnny Montague when she and Jasmine were first bound while the robbing of the jewellery store was in progress. It was very sticky and adhered to her skin instantly. Molly tore off a second piece of tape that was longer than the first. ‘Close your eyes, dear, unless you want to be really uncomfortable.’ The second piece of tape was strapped across Melody’s face from temple to temple, across her eyebrows and over the bridge of her nose. Molly again smoothed the tape out. The lids of Melody’s eyes were now sealed tight shut.

‘There’s a reason for doing this, dearie. A blindfold will make you disoriented and more docile. You should wear it often and I’m pleased with my henchman Karl that he took such pains with those dinky little hoods. I must add some of them to my collection.’ Melody shifted uncomfortably and mmphed through the tape. ‘There’s no real reason why you should be gagged either, except for what I’ve already said. For your training.’

Melody tried to relax. What on earth does she mean, for my training? But Molly did not elaborate. With an ironic, ‘Sleep tight, dear,’ the woman left.

Melody heard the door click shut and the key turn in the lock. No need to lock the door, she thought, with me cuffed and taped up like this. Molly’s idea of making me comfortable to rest up is weird to say the least. Melody did her best to use the opportunity. What did handcuffs and gags mean anyway? She had become used to being bound one way or another. It was not fair of course. But she was really very tired.

*

Mia’s experience was a close match to that of Melody but with differences. Within a minute of Melody’s exit with Johnny Montague, Mia was led out by Molly to a bedroom further along the passageway past the one where Melody was being held. Mia was allowed to shower and tidy up, and was treated to a breakfast delivered by Brentford. Molly then made her accustomed entrance gun in hand, surprising Mia who with the aid of a wall mirror was examining the chafe marks at the corners of her mouth.

‘It’s pleasing to know that you have some vanity my dear,’ Molly quipped. ‘Let me see, please undress yourself.’

‘What are you going to do with us?’ asked Mia falteringly.

‘I’m glad you asked. But I’m not telling you, yet. The first thing is for you to have some bed rest after your long uncomfortable journey. Your two friends will have the same treatment. Now take off your clothes, and that’s an order! ... I see you prefer stockings to pantyhose. Keep them on, and your shoes.’

When the clothes had been neatly folded and placed on a chair, Molly ordered Mia to put on her silk half-slip. ‘Now, let’s have a little fashion parade. Take your hands off your breasts, there are no men here. My what perky little numbers. And you’ve got a great arse too, honey. Okay. Kneel down. Put your hands behind your back. You surely didn’t think you’d be sleeping without some restraints, did you?’

Using two long pieces of rope, Molly bound Mia’s arms behind her at the wrists and elbows. The ropes bit into the young woman’s unprotected flesh, bringing tears to her eyes. Then Mia’s legs were tied together above the knees and at the ankles. Molly paused. ‘One more little touch I think.’ And Mia’s ankles and wrists were tied together about a foot apart in a medium hogtie. It was not so stringent as to be tied hand to foot, which would have arched her back painfully, but it was enough to hamper any movements about the room that Mia might decide upon.

Mia said nothing while she was being bound. If I start getting feisty with this woman I’ll regret it, she told herself. The young woman resolved instead to bide her time and wait for the right chance to offer itself. It was a strategy that had worked for her before.

Molly looked down at her captive and gloated. ‘Those ropes lift your tits nicely. I see what Karl sees in you. Lucky girl! You’re in the hands of two experts here. You should be flattered that we’re giving you so much attention. Didn’t you like the attention when you played tie-up games as a kid? You didn’t play those games? Well you’re going to learn fast, baby. Just one more thing, and I’ll leave you alone with your thoughts.’ With those words, Molly taped Mia’s mouth and eyes sealing them tight shut, as she would do with Melody presently.

*

After Melody and Mia had been led from the room, it was Jasmine Morris’s turn for special attention. All that time, Jasmine had been sitting on the floor, her head bowed, with no will to escape her bonds. Brentford and Orly have abandoned me, the bastards., she thought hopelessly. She did not know that the two men were close at hand, for they had made themselves scarce the moment her blindfold and earplugs were removed. Although she was gagged, it was too dangerous. Jasmine could betray them by so much as a look.

Molly had a different plan for Jasmine. ‘This young woman isn’t getting enough sun. Johnny, take her into the back garden and tie her to a tree. She looks too exhausted to give us trouble. Not like the other two who have a reputation for Houdini tricks.’

Johnny Montague obeyed. At least this kid is better off than the others, he thought, as he led Jasmine from the room.

*

Mia lay unmoving for several minutes. She listened intently, making sure that she was now really alone in the room after hearing the door closed and locked. But there was no sound aside from her own laboured breathing. The tape at her lips might be worked loose by wetting the cloth with the tip of her tongue, but Mia was interested in something more important. Her dress, panties and bra lay folded on the chair somewhere close at hand. And with those clothes there also lay her belt of broad soft leather.

*

Melody tried to sleep. Once or twice she managed to doze off. But the moment her body relaxed, her weight stretched her arms and the steel bit painfully into her wrists. With her arms raised above her head, held there by her wrists cuffed to the bed frame, the morning dragged on as slow torture. This is what that bitch intended, she thought angrily. She said something about breaking my spirit, making me obey her. What does it all mean?

It must have been close to lunchtime - Melody’s stomach was rumbling - when she heard the door being opened. The tape was stripped from her eyes and mouth with unusual care, and she saw that it was Johnny Montague. Her wrists were freed and she was allowed to walk unsteadily to the bathroom. When she re-entered the bedroom, she found that Molly had joined her henchman.

‘Time for a little walk in the sun, my dear. Another step towards controlling you. You’ll find out soon enough what I mean,’ she added sharply as Melody opened her mouth to speak.

But Melody spoke all the same. ‘What kind of sadist are you? You didn’t have to leave me cuffed and taped up all morning. I’ll do what you tell me.’

‘Aha, but not good enough. Johnny, stuff that handkerchief in her mouth.’

The handkerchief that had been used on Melody earlier lay on the bedside table. Johnny Montague bunched it in his hand and Melody had to stand obediently with her arms loose at her sides. She knew better than to struggle. The cotton that filled her mouth retained some of its crisp newness. It had dried out over the hours.

Molly stepped forward and bound a flimsy grey scarf of silk organza over Melody’s mouth and made it very tight. ‘Don’t try to work it off with your tongue now. You’ll get rougher treatment if you do.’ Melody nodded. ‘Okay, take off that beautiful dress. Don’t worry about Johnny. He’s a man of the world. You can keep your panties on. They’re pretty flimsy anyway.’

When Melody had complied, her arms were pulled behind her back and her wrists tied together with a short piece of thick, rough textured rope. With Johnny Montague walking ahead and Molly behind, Melody was led out of the room and down the stairs to the garden. Her face burned with embarrassment as Molly paraded her captive past each henchman in turn. Hudson, standing on guard at the foot of the stairs, Brentford and Orly in the kitchen, and Karl washing the Mercedes in the driveway.

The first thing Melody saw when they walked into the back garden was Jasmine Morris sitting disconsolately against a tree stump, her arms tied behind her. Molly stood back, her hands on her hips, and savoured the sight of the two prisoners. She was not wearing her leather outfit that morning but wore instead tailored slacks and a shirt, both black.

Johnny Montague stood a short distance away, the cigarette in his fingers shaking slightly. This business is getting out of hand, he thought despondently. They’re only interested in ogling these beautiful, unfortunate women and having their sadistic little games with them. They’ve forgotten about that bloody diamond. And I haven’t had a smoke for six months, until now!

What Molly the Gun was going to do next would forever remain a mystery. At that moment, Karl burst running from the house and came to a skidding halt in front of them. His eyes were wild and his lips were flecked with spittle.

‘Boss, Mia Chantal’s gone. She’s escaped!’

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