The illustration is a detail from the art work of the delectable Sarah Foster Tate who graced the pages of Bondage Life magazine for many years as the writer Atreus’s partner and lovely bondage model. I owe Sarah a special debt of gratitude for having illustrated one of my stories, the last as it turned out, ‘A Heroine in Lace,’ in Bondage Parade, No. 22, December, 1986, pp. 6-9, 14-15, 30-31.

‘Who’ll we start on first, the bimbo in the blue dress?’

‘Yeah boss.’

‘Or the customer there, the bright cookie?’

‘Uh huh.’

‘They’re both lookers all righty.’ That observation came from the tall man, Karl.

‘Don’t look too bright to me.’ It was Hudson’s voice taking up the flow of the exchange at its earlier moment, ‘More like they’re scared to death.’

Melody felt touched momentarily by the big man’s flicker of compassion. But the feeling soon passed. They were all of the same stamp in the end. Her flash of anger was hidden in the folds of the silk covering her eyes, which was probably fortunate.

‘How would you know, you ignoramus?’ said Karl viciously.

‘Cut it out you two! We’ve wasted enough time mucking about with them instead of getting that diamond.’

‘Yeah,’ defensively, ‘But maybe they know something about it.’

‘Look at them!’ the boss began, then he suddenly went quiet. ‘Yeah … Yeah, right. One of them should know something about it.’

The silence that followed made the pit of Melody’s stomach queasy with foreboding. The three robbers were going in circles in their deliberations, but she suspected they would soon be contemplating actions more drastic than words.

‘You,’ the boss addressed one of his minions. He’s not going to let any more names slip, thought Melody. ‘You go out and take whatever you can find. We’ll get something out of this heist.’

Melody heard the scuffing of feet as one of the men left on his errand. The boss continued to talk speculatively.

‘There’s not much time left. It gets more dangerous the longer we stay here.’

‘Why don’t we take them with us and question them where we’ve got plenty of time?’ It was Karl’s voice.

Melody’s heart missed a beat and she felt cold even in the warm air conditioned room.

‘How far do you think we’d get carting either of these women out into the streets in broad daylight? Use your head man,’ the leader hissed.

Then Melody heard the other man, Hudson, bursting into the room.

‘Quick boss,’ he mumbled breathlessly, ‘There’s a cop nosing around outside. Looks like he means business.’

‘How would you have a clue how a cop looks?’ taunted the boss. But there was an edge of fear in his voice.

Melody caught her breath in excitement. Now it’s their turn to be frightened.

She guessed that all three men had left the room, but she could not be a hundred per cent sure. A few seconds later Hudson’s voice came from the front of the shop in a sibilant whisper. ‘Forgot something boss. Left me knife back there when I cut those blinds.’

‘Leave it! No, bring it. It’ll have your fingerprints all over it. Hurry you idiot!’

Melody’s heart quailed as she heard Hudson lumber into the room and she hoped that in his panic he would ignore them. But instead he seemed to bend over her. One of his hands took her by a shoulder. Melody turned her bound face fearfully towards the man. A whimper started to escape from her taped lips but she stopped as large rough fingers pressed warningly against them over the tape.

‘Nah,’ said Hudson apologetically, ‘Don’t be frightened pretty lady. I not gonna hurt you.’

An impatient shout came from Karl in the other room. ‘What the hell are you doing in there? Come on now or we’ll leave you, you oaf.’

Hudson squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. ‘Just wanted to tell you that,’ he whispered.

Melody tried as best she could to communicate her gratitude by nodding her head. Maybe he’s really not like the others after all. But was that all he wanted to do, tell her he was sorry? No sooner had the thought passed through her mind, than Melody felt large clumsy fingers working on the knots of the cord that bound her wrists. It lasted only a few seconds, then Hudson spoke again, ‘No more time. Got to go. Sorry.’

She heard him leave hurriedly. There was a babble of talk, exclamations and apologetic explanations. Then came the welcome click of the door closing shut. She listened to the muted sounds of the city, passing cars, jumbled voices, stray snatches of music. It was so normal. Yet here she was, gagged and bound, a robbery victim only a few yards distant. The relief of no longer being in danger left her weak and drained of energy.

Melody’s fingers searched frantically for the knot tied close to her wrists. It did not seem as tight as it had been. She had Hudson to thank for that. She managed at last to get her fingers around the knot, but was unable for several long seconds to gain additional purchase. With a sob of frustration she released her hold a moment and took a deep breath, allowing herself to relax. At the next try she succeeded and managed to pull her hands apart.

She reached for the scarf tied over face, but it was bound so tightly that she could not take the short cut of simply pulling it down from her eyes. In desperation she renewed her efforts on the stubborn silk. Within the last few weeks she had allowed her fingernails to grow longer. It was another small step towards a new life for herself, to create a fresh body image. Now they had an unexpected purpose. She inserted them beneath a fold of the knot and plucked away slowly and carefully. Eventually the silk worked free between her fingers and with a little more effort the whole bandage came away. She blinked her eyes against the glare of the ceiling lights and took several deep shuddering breaths through her nose.

The relief from the pressure of the blindfold was so great that she was tempted to rest, but not until the stifling tape that sealed her lips was removed. Melody did not trust the old advice about stripping adhesive tape off quickly, and she worked slowly and carefully, loosening first a corner of the tape then gradually peeling it away so that it would not tear her lips. It stung and brought tears to her eyes, but the tape came away without much difficulty.

Guiltily, Melody turned to the shop girl who, with her hands also free, was plucking ineffectually at her blindfold and the tape over her mouth. She had been secured just as tightly as Melody. ‘Keep still, dear,’ Melody began soothingly. ‘I’ll soon have that horrible stuff off you.’

With the same care she had taken in freeing her own eyes and mouth, Melody worked on the hoodwinked girl. She was relieved that the girl did not turn on hysterics when the blindfold finally came away. Melody felt somehow responsible towards the younger woman. Perhaps it came with the years, making it possible for her to deal with the fright of the last fifteen minutes. When she had removed the shop girl’s tape, Melody took the girl’s hands in her own. They were icy cold with shock and gently she massaged them to help restore circulation, working especially on the soft flesh at the base of the girl’s thumbs and her fingers before going on to her wrists and forearms.

‘Is there an alarm system here?’ Melody asked.

‘Y … Yes,’ the girl mumbled. ‘I’ll go and press the button or whatever. ‘

She rose to her feet and walked unsteadily to the door, disappeared into the front room and a moment later the strident sounds of an electronic burglar alarm filled the building. Melody sat back and massaged her eyes wearily. She determined to recite to the police as thorough a description of the gang as possible.

The police were at the door in less than ten minutes. Melody found that, like the store assistant, she had difficulty walking at first, and she appreciated the helping arm of a policewoman as they made their way out past the now empty display cases. On the long counter below the clock, the domed case in which the Hen’s Egg diamond had nestled stood forlornly. It reminded Melody more than ever of a cheese tray.

*

‘How did you incompetents manage to foul up the job so completely?’

It was a sorry threesome who gathered in their dingy room at one of the less reputable hotels on the railway fringe of the city. Hudson sat chewing his nails, slumped in an old armchair a size too small for his bulk. Karl likewise perched uneasily on the edge of the single narrow bed which, though small, almost filled the room alongside a dilapidated wardrobe tilted at a crazy angle with a door missing. Their boss stood above them framed by the grubby window.

‘It was an easy job. We had it all set up after I got the security guard drunk last night. And you two numbskulls blew it! You Karl, I know you like roughing up women but couldn’t you have done it on your own time? I warned you damn it! And you, Hudson. You’ve got enough gray matter still functioning in that punch drunk head of yours to keep an eye on Karl.’

There was silence for several seconds broken by a scarcely audible, ‘Yeah boss,’ from one of the henchmen.

Johnny Montague continued his line of reasoning. ‘I’ll tell you what went wrong. We were too busy taking care of those women to check where the diamond was.’

‘Yeah! Maybe it was moved before we came in,’ Karl suggested.

‘But you don’t know for sure do you? And anyway the case it was in was empty. I saw that. And the safe too, except for that packet with the necklace on the top shelf.’

‘At least we got the rest of the stuff,’ temporised Karl. ‘That’ll have us well set up when we’ve put it through a fence. Yes indeedy.’

‘Yeah? Only when the heat dies down,’ countered Montague. ‘We could have had good money quick smart if we’d got that diamond.’

‘How you mean?’ asked Karl.

‘Uh, I’ve got connections,’ said Montague vaguely.

Karl looked at his boss quizzically. ‘You ain’t telling us everything are you boss?’

‘Trust me,’ Montague added. ‘I don’t have to tell you blokes all my plans. They’ve kept you on the gravy train okay and you didn’t complain before.’ Montague took up the debate again. ‘Something’s not right about this,’ he said slowly. ‘Hudson, you didn’t see the diamond?’

‘Nah boss.’

‘But Karl, you must have seen something. What was going on when we went in there? Think man!’

‘Well,’ said Karl pursing his lips and drawing his brows into a frown of concentration, ‘That woman in the big coat with brown hair was standing at the counter.’

‘She’s pretty.’

`

‘Shut up Hudson! What else Karl?’

‘Well the other one, that hoighty toity one in the silk dress …’

‘The shop girl. Yes?’

‘She was doing something down on the floor. Near the safe,’ he added as an afterthought.

‘And the woman in the overcoat was looking down at her?’

‘Yeah. I guess so. Why, uh …’

‘I reckon!’ said Montague with growing excitement, ‘I reckon the diamond was there!’

‘But …’

‘Don’t you see Karl? No, you wouldn’t, Hudson. Karl, there’s no way that jewel could have disappeared so fast. That can only mean one thing. One of those women palmed it!’

*

‘This is serious, Brod,’ said Oscar mopping his brow. ‘I’m glad you arrived quickly.’

‘So it happened here after all,’ remarked Brod.

He had flown in that evening immediately after hearing the news phoned frantically from Oscar. And now they sat in an upper floor room of the central police headquarters where he was being briefed.

‘I hold myself to blame,’ Oscar remarked primly. ‘Couldn’t cover every angle on my own and should have called you in before now.’

‘Can’t be helped,’ replied Brod jovially. ‘They’re not an especially bright bunch and it should be easy to catch up with them.’

Oscar fussily smoothed down the clipboard of papers that lay on the desk before him. The look on his face was aggrieved. ‘There were other people involved, innocent persons who might easily have come out of it worse than they did,’ he added censoriously.

‘The hell you say!’ grunted Brod sitting forward in his chair. ‘From the little you said on the phone I thought it was a straight forward grab raid.’

‘Not that simple. The gang took their time. From what the witnesses told the police, they entered the shop and closed it up. Locked the entrance and displayed a "closed" sign in the window. Then they cleaned the place out. Took everything they could see, including the diamond.’

‘The witnesses?’

‘Two women. One was the store assistant. She was alone in charge of the place. God knows why the proprietor was not on hand. She didn’t know. Was expecting him any moment. The police are looking for him. The other woman was a customer.’

‘Names?’

Oscar consulted the clipboard. ‘Jasmine Morris. That’s the salesgirl. The other one’s an accountant newly arrived from overseas. From around your place of abode in fact. Name of Melody Hazard.’

‘What did they have to say, aside from what you’ve already told me?’

‘We haven’t debriefed them fully yet. They were both pretty shaken up. The younger one, that’s the salesgirl, was almost hysterical. The policewoman on the scene said the other woman did a sterling job of comforting her. But it wasn’t enough. The Morris woman’s at home resting in the care of a neighbor I gather.’

‘And the Hazard woman?’

‘Left unaided after giving her statement. She played it down but I believe she was something of a heroine when you put the facts together. Very level headed. Attractive too. These were delivered from the police photographer just before you came in.’

Oscar slid a large envelope from under the clipboard and passed it across to Brod.

‘I remember how you like to check out photographs on these cases.’

‘Thanks.’

Brod donned his spectacles and opened the flap, allowing the two large black and white prints to slide into his fingers. The first was of a blonde haired young woman of around twenty-six wearing a shawl of some kind over what appeared to be a flimsy dress. Her hair, which he guessed from its bouffant style she usually kept immaculate, appeared disarrayed, and her eyes were fixed and very wide. Apart from the obvious traces of fear she looked no different from a hundred city butterflies of her age.

The other photograph was different however. Large serious eyes regarded the person behind the camera with a penetrating frankness. A half smile on her lips suggested that a sense of humor about the situation lurked just beneath the surface. She appeared to be wearing an oversize trench coat at the neck of which could be seen the lacy collar of a blouse or shirt. The hunted look of the first woman was not evident. Her thirty-something face, framed by a thick mane of golden-brown shoulder length hair, looked merely very tired. Fatigue could not mask its beauty.

There was also something familiar about that face. Had he seen her before? Brod sat back and massaged the bridge of his nose wearily. The rapid late flight had fogged his senses.

After a pause he pursued his questioning. ‘So the shop was staffed by only one junior, and one customer was in the place. That partly explains the gang’s success. No resistance. But there was supposed to be a security guard on duty.’

Oscar cleared his throat. ‘A good example of the breakdown that can happen when sponsors neglect the two-guard system. One of the gang members was wearing a security guard’s uniform.’

‘And the real guard?’

‘Poor devil was found locked in an old warehouse almost frozen to death. Apparently in his off duty moments he likes his beer. Met up with an out-of-towner who got him drunk and rolled him. We think the blighter may have been the leader Montague from the description the guard was able to give us.’

‘I see.’

‘It’s a matter of luck nobody was seriously hurt. I told you the two women were shaken up, and for good reason. The story as they tell it is garbled in places but what it amounts to is they got pretty rough treatment. They were taken into the back room, bound, gagged, and blindfolded, and threatened.’

‘How much does the press know?’

‘Less than the basics. But the main story will hit the fan probably with the late editions.’

‘Okay. I’ll take over the debriefing tomorrow and relieve you of some of the burden. You look dead on your feet.’

Brod sat back in the chair and gazed at the ceiling. ‘Oscar, will you do me a favor and get the police photographer’s shots of the jewellery store? I need to see the layout for myself before I interrogate the two women. Another thing. I’m almost certain I’ve seen the older woman before. The one you called a heroine. But I can’t place her. Any ideas?’

Oscar lowered his eyes ruminatively. ‘A face from your normal course of duty, surely not? She can’t have a criminal background.’

‘No. I’ve seen her under other circumstances.’

‘Socially?’

‘Possibly. I’ll sleep on it.’

He climbed to his feet and stretched. Silly not being able to place where I’ve seen her. Must be getting old. Usually his memory for persons and places was impeccable. The hauntingly beautiful face with its lush halo of hair lingered in Brod’s mind as he and Oscar entered their hotel fifteen minutes later.

*

The downhill route from police headquarters into the city center was longer than Melody anticipated. By the time she had cut across to the new Chinatown block her forehead was beaded with sweat in spite of the cold air and she was regretting her show of independence. Melody realized she was still very much a newcomer to this city. The journey by patrol car to the police precinct had seemed short but she found that on foot she had to walk across four main streets covering in a rough diagonal more than half the city’s length. The distance did not worry her. She was fit and would have enjoyed the hike under different circumstances. But she was late for that pesky meeting.

Melody told herself it was one of life’s reminders against a personal habit of scrupulous punctuality which from time to time infuriated many of her friends. At last she came in sight of the big department store and the shopping complex beneath. After the shock and, yes, excitement of the robbery, the arcade as she set foot in it appeared strange to her eyes. The doors were fastened. She tapped upon the window a little abashed and Tilly came to unlock the door.

The auditors were sitting expectantly around the coffee table in the office. Her office. The sheer ordinariness of the place and the friendly faces made her feel as though it had all been a dream. But her head still ached from the bandage that had been across her eyes, and her lips still felt raw.

‘I’m awfully sorry I’m late,’ she explained awkwardly as she took her seat. ‘I was tied up.’

*

Meanwhile, back at the cheap hotel, the gang of three considered the implications of what their boss had just said. Hudson appeared either disinterested or blissfully ignorant of the situation. He began to drum against his teeth, making dull thumping sounds with his fingertips interspersed at random with sharper clacks as nails struck the enamel. They were strong, square teeth. Their sound was beginning to irritate Montague. Karl however was absorbed in the question and for the moment was not baiting the ex-wrestler.

‘Okay, so one of them has the diamond. Why don’t we snatch them both and get them to tell us where they put it?’ said Karl persuasively.

‘That’s the obvious thing to do,’ agreed Johnny Montague, ‘But it won’t be easy. They’ll be under police protection for a couple of days at least. And anyway we don’t know their names or where either of them live.’

‘There must be some way of finding out. What about the papers? They’ll have the job splashed across the front pages,’ Karl observed with a touch of pride.

Montague looked at his watch then turned to Hudson. ‘Hey lummox. Go out and buy a paper. And take your fingers out of your cake hole.’

Hudson shuffled to his feet and stood towering over Montague. A hurt expression flickered momentarily across his visage before he resumed the bland baby-like stare that had become habitual when in the company of the other two hoods. He looked down at his boots and mumbled something in which only the word ‘money’ was clearly audible. Montague sighed resignedly and dug into his jacket pocket.

‘Here’s a few dollars. Don’t drink it all. In fact bring the paper first, then I guess you can take a break.’

He dropped several coins into the big man’s grubby hands and Hudson shuffled out of the room. Karl and Montague failed to see the relief that lit up his eyes as he escaped the confines of the small room and their company.

‘How long are you going to keep him around?’ asked Karl contemptuously.

‘Long enough. He’s a good driver. He’s expendable. And he doesn’t ask too many questions,’ Montague added pointedly. ‘But it’s convenient to have him out of the way sometimes. Like now for instance.’

He reached under the bed and retrieved the kit bag where most of the day’s takings had been stored. ‘Like he doesn’t have to see all this.’

Montague prepared to upturn the bag onto the tatty gray blanket that covered the bed when they heard Hudson’s shuffling steps again just outside the door. ‘Jeez that was quick!’ Hurriedly he replaced the bag out of sight.

Karl opened the door a few seconds later to reveal that it was indeed Hudson. ‘You took your time. What kept you?’

‘Paper boy was outside,’ said Hudson unaware of the irony.

‘Fair enough.’ Karl took the folded newspaper and waved Hudson away. He did not close the door fully however until they heard the heavy steps receding down the stairs.

‘I swear that man’s like a ghost sometimes, the way he comes and goes,’ said Karl under his breath.

Forgetting the contents of the bag for the moment, he spread the newspaper out on the bed and the two men leaned over to read the headlines. Johnny Montague sucked in his breath with irritation. The story had hit the evening news. The headline read:

*

Melody awoke with the sun the next morning refreshed by the hot bath and soup she had administered to herself the night before. But as soon as she slipped off the low futon several muscles in her body complained sharply. In spite of this she showered and dressed for the day, slipping into a spotlessly white crepe de chine blouse with lace trimmings at the collar and sleeves puffed at the shoulder, ending in wide double cuffs at her wrists. A narrow linen skirt and her dark jacket completed the outfit.

She picked up the ugly tan trench coat from where she had let it fall on arriving home the previous night and hung it away in one of the built-in closets of the new apartment. She had no intention of ever wearing it again and reminded herself to have it dry cleaned before returning it to Tilly. But she gave one arm of the coat an affectionate pat as she shut the closet door. Its thick warm material had literally saved her skin and for that she was grateful.

Over a light breakfast of toast, honey and coffee she resisted the temptation to phone Tilly and ask for the day off. The puzzled stares she had received on arriving late for the meeting with the auditor and his secretary had changed to concern after they had left, when Melody felt free to describe her encounter with the jewel thieves. She felt a lot better now, so she might as well go the rest of the way and make it a normal working day.

Melody strode briskly into the office and began to set everything up for the day’s work. The morning papers carried the theft of the Duck’s Egg diamond on the front pages but Melody was relieved to see they reported her name and that of Jasmine as two innocent but minor characters. The quicker she could forget about the whole business the better.

The call when it came was taken by Tilly who was having her coffee break. Melody was in the storeroom sorting through oddments of last season’s stock.

‘Mel,’ called Tilly from around the door, ‘Phone. Sounds rather official.’

‘Ms Hazard?’ It was the voice of the desk sergeant of the day before.

‘Yes,’ replied Melody. She assumed a serious air although the woman at the other end was of course unable to see her.

‘That special officer I told you about yesterday has just arrived. Would it be possible for you to spare an hour of your time this morning to see him?’

‘Anything to get this business over with.’

‘It’s Inspector Clifford. Some big-wig from Australia.’

On her way out Melody stopped at the rest room in the arcade to wash the dust from her fingers. After running a comb through her hair and applying a light touch of lipstick and makeup she felt sufficiently fortified to confront the visage of authority. The sergeant on the first floor looked up from her desk and smiled as Melody entered the waiting room.

‘Thank you for coming so promptly. It’s always good to work with a member of the public who’s easy to get on with.’

She looked around quickly to confirm that nobody was within listening range and added in a lower voice, ‘Between you and me those big shots make me a little nervous. There’s something going on. They’ve been talking to each other and using the phone constantly the last two hours.’

‘I saw the headlines as I came in,’ replied Melody. ‘That jewel theft is creating a big stir.’

‘Not only that.’ The sergeant leant forward conspiratorially. ‘Are all your Australian men a little strange? You know what he said to me? He asked did I practice with my handcuffs at home! Of course I do, sometimes, but I wasn’t going to tell him that!’

Upon alighting from the elevator the sergeant led Melody down a poorly lit and obviously little used corridor until she came to a grubby door. The glow of a naked electric light bulb through the opaque glass panel showed that the room was in use.

The sergeant knocked on the door. ‘Come in,’ a strong male voice called from within.

The sergeant turned the knob and held the door open. ‘Good luck. Ask him about handcuffs sometime,’ she whispered as Melody stepped through. Melody wondered whether some American women were not themselves a little strange.

As the door closed quietly behind her, Melody felt like a schoolgirl called up to face the headmistress. Instinctively she stood erect with her hands clasped behind her back.

A large man rose hurriedly from a creaking wooden chair and faced her from across the deskﶨ which aside from two other vacant chairs was the only furniture in the room. One of his hands brushed a little self consciously through black hair in an unsuccessful attempt to rearrange it. His eyes caught and held hers with an intensity that made her quail. Then the grim expression he had assumed slipped a little and changed to puzzlement. He took a step forward to the side of the desk.

Melody found her voice first. ‘We’ve met before!’

It was a moment before she regained her composure. To see a familiar face in such an unfamiliar environment, even if it was only that of a passing stranger, left her momentarily dazed. But where had she seen him before? The crumpled corduroy trousers and tweed jacket she remembered clearly. The subtle, musky but not unpleasing male scent with which she associated them told her uncomfortably that they had been physically close at some time. Then she noticed his hands. They were large, comfortable looking hands and as if in response to their memory her left elbow felt warmer.

‘You helped me pick up the mess after I spilled my bag.’

‘ Of course! How remiss of me to forget! It was only a couple of weeks ago.’

Two more steps brought him to her side and from that angle he took her hand in his in a firm welcoming handshake. Although his hand completely engulfed hers the grip was surprisingly gentle. Melody returned the courtesy by giving his fingers a light squeeze.

‘Let’s get to business,’ he began. ‘I’ve been going through the statements you and Jasmine Morris made last night. They’re a good account of the robbery but they also leave a lot out. It’s common in the excitement of the moment for witnesses to be hazy about events directly after they have occurred. It’s often a reaction to trauma.’

Melody nodded seriously. ‘It was pretty scary, Mister Clifford.’

‘Call me Brod.’ He paused to clear his throat. ‘First of all, the physical arrangement. Where were you and the other witness standing at the time it all began? Maybe these will help.’ He selected two photographs from the file and handed them across to her.

After studying them for about a minute, Melody rose and walked around the desk to him. She spread the two prints side by side.

‘I was standing about here,’ she pointed, ‘and the salesgirl was here opposite me on the other side of the counter. She had just finished writing my docket for the repair of an opal ring I broke that morning.’ Melody hesitated. ‘Is this what you want … Brod? Am I giving you trivia? And do you mind if I take off my jacket? It’s getting hot in here?’

‘Go ahead, ahh … Melody. No, you’re not giving too much trivia, as you put it, and yes it is what I want.’

Melody became aware of his male scent once again and moved half a pace back, hoping that he would not notice her confusion. ‘The girl finished filling out the docket,’ Melody continued. ‘She gave me my copy and put the docket book and the envelope with my ring on the bottom shelf under the counter. Then she started to put away the diamond in its case. Well, we stopped and admired it at first before she bent down - sorry, she kneeled down - to put it away in a small safe on the floor.’

‘And that was when the gang entered?’

‘Then they shoved us into the back room and tied us up. That man Hudson took so long to cut the cord from the blinds that I started to hope they would give up the idea. But they didn’t. We were bound hand and foot and gagged with tape, and blindfolded.’

‘Before they blindfolded you did you get a good look at any of them? Did you notice any identifying features?’

‘That’s what I wanted to tell the sergeant last night, but in the confusion I forgot. When they burst in on us I tried to control my fear by watching as closely as possible for any of those identifying features as you call them. The man who blindfolded me was the shortest of the three heavies. His voice was gravel-throated as though he smoked a lot, and he had an accent somewhere between Australian and a Londoner, you know, Cockney. He seemed to be the leader. He really enjoyed what he was doing and his eyes in the slits of the mask were a faded sort of blue, real creepy, and there were letters tattooed on the knuckles of one of his hands. One was a U, another a D. I only remember a third one. That was C. Does that mean anything to you?’

‘Crud,’ replied Brod succinctly.

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Expletive meaning manure,’ he explained tersely. ‘Was there anything else that could help to identify him?’

‘I’m a fool. I should have told you first. When one of the other men came in — a thin tall man - the leader called him Karl. And the big man with him, he cut the cords from the venetian blind and pulled it all down onto himself,’ she giggled, ‘His name was let slip too. It was Hudson.’

Brod shifted uncomfortably in the chair and came to his feet. Facing her, he took her hand in both of his and held her eyes in silence for a long moment. When he spoke, the tension between them in the small room heightened.

‘You’ve confirmed our worst fears, Melody. Now we know without a doubt the gang who took the diamond. They’re a miserable dangerous bunch and you were lucky to get out of the situation with only a few bruises.’ He took a deep breath and continued, ‘Thank you again for your assistance. We won’t require you any further. Go back to your normal life Melody Hazard and try to forget the rough treatment they gave you.’

He turned to escort Melody towards the door but she stopped and wheeled upon him in sudden agitation, ignoring the intimate proximity of their bodies in her alarm.

‘But I thought you knew!’ she gasped. ‘That gang never found the diamond. It was already missing. Nobody knew where it was!’

*

Brod looked at Melody in astonishment. In the silence, Melody could hear the muffled roar of city traffic in the far distance as she looked enquiringly into his face.

‘The hell you say?’ was his first reaction. Then, ‘Do you mind staying a few minutes longer while we clear this one up? Surely there must be some mistake.’ Brod resumed his seat and frowned in perplexity. He began to drum lightly on the desk top with a pencil stub.

‘It must have been some minutes later.’ Melody started to pace the floor. ‘Please stop that tapping. It’s confusing me. I may have passed out for a short time. But I heard one of them say something about not being able to find the diamond ... ‘

Melody faltered in her recitation, for Brod came to his feet, took her firmly by an arm, and steered her to the chair she had been sitting in. Point taken, she thought. I can’t stand his tapping with that pencil, and he can’t stand me pacing up and down! Melody resumed her testimony.

‘The boss was very angry and the three of them came back into the office. He and that man Karl were about to question us when Hudson came running in to say a policeman was nearby. They panicked and left. But they also started to talk about taking us with them. I was scared enough already but that terrified me.’

There was a flicker of sympathy in Brod’s eyes but he remained silent. Instead, he rose and walked behind Melody. From the corner of her eye she saw him removing the dark necktie he wore.

‘What on earth are you doing?’ she exclaimed as the big man effortlessly drew her arms behind her back around the chair and began tying her wrists together.

‘A little experiment,’ Brod said laconically. ‘You may thank me for it one day.’

‘You’ve tied my hands!’ Melody exclaimed redundantly, tilting her head sideways and looking up at him. ‘Is this some new form of police interrogation? A little unusual for this country isn’t it?’

Melody could not prevent her sense of humor from bubbling to the surface. She told herself that she should feel more alarmed than she was. But the necktie, although it was tight, did not hurt - it was silk — and she felt unaccountably comfortable with this large shabbily dressed, tousle-haired man who resembled nothing more than an oversize boy, although she surmised that he must be at least middle aged.

‘Bear with me,’ Brod said. ‘Go on with what you were saying.’

Melody continued her report. ‘And then just as they were leaving a funny thing happened. It had to do with Hudson, and I was about to tell you a moment ago but you interrupted me. He told the other two something about dropping his pocketknife in the office when he was cutting the cords. But when he came in he already had it, I think, because he started to apologize to us instead. He told us we were not going to be hurt. And he touched me on the shoulder. He loosened our wrist bonds, but he didn’t use his knife to do it.’ Melody stopped and took a deep breath. ‘Can you explain that?’

Brod rose and paced about the small office, hands thrust into his pockets, head bent in thought. Then he raised his eyes to hers. From the close distance he towered above her.

‘Hudson’s not like the other two. He’s an ex-wrestler down on his luck. I used to admire him in my younger days when I was learning Judo. Followed his career and others like him for a few years. He suffered a bad fall. There were rumors at the time it wasn’t accidental, that it was a pay-back for refusing to "take a fall" in the competition. That’s all history now. The man has redeeming social qualities and when I learnt he was a member of the gang I couldn’t understand it. He’s what they used to call punch drunk. Brain damaged. And he’s probably easily led. Or maybe they have some sort of hold over him.’

‘Poor man.’

‘You somehow found an ally in him. Beauty-and-the-beast syndrome. I wouldn’t be surprised that when he heard their plans to abduct you and the other girl he purposely put the wind up them to make them forget the idea. There was no report about police being on the scene until after you sounded the alarm.’

‘Do you want me to go on now?’ Melody asked. ‘I feel ridiculous talking to you like this with my hands tied behind me. I didn’t think my pacing about the floor annoyed you that much. I’m sorry and I won’t do it again. Or is there another reason for tying me like this? I feel very vulnerable, but I’m sure you’re a perfect gentleman.’

Brod smiled with disarming warmth. ‘There is a reason. Try to get free.’

Melody began twisting her wrists about in the tight loops of silk and found to her surprise and chagrin that she was completely unable to slip out of them. After another minute of silent struggling she looked up at Brod with defeat in her eyes. She was flushed and breathing hard.

‘No?’ asked Brod.

Melody shook her head.

Brod got to his feet and walked behind her. She felt the bands of silk loosening, and when her hands came free she massaged her wrists theatrically although they were not sore at all.

‘Now,’ said Brod, ignoring her over-acting, ‘Put your hands behind your back again, but this time make fists and tense the muscles in your forearms as much as you can. Take deep breaths and visualize your body, especially your arms, expanding as much as possible. This time when you’re bound there should be a difference.’

Melody did as she was directed, and as she felt the material being twisted about her wrists again she fought back her natural reaction to relax her hands and submit. Instead, she kept forearms and fists, and her arms, stiff and resisting.

‘Very good.’ The knots had been tied once more.

‘What do I do now?’ Melody asked.

‘Do the opposite of what you’ve just been doing,’ said Brod with a chuckle. ‘Relax your hands and fingers, relax your arms, especially your forearms. Take your time. You should find more room in which to move your wrists.’

‘I can!’ exclaimed Melody in surprise. ‘Here,’ and she slipped one wrist out of the three turns of necktie that had been imprisoning it. ‘How did I do that?’

‘It’s deceptively easy. And it does not always work, Melody. But, if you are ever tied up again, try to remember the trick. It’s "pumping up," like body builders do just before a contest. Next time you see one of those Slarnie Stallionnegger movies look at how their bodies, especially the biceps become larger than life. That’s because they’ve breathed deeply, flexed the muscles, and driven a rich supply of blood into their limbs. They really are bigger than normal, temporarily.’

‘So what was I doing wrong?’

‘You were too cooperative. Remember that people tying you up will expect some resistance. If you relax and acquiesce in what they’re trying to do to you, you’ll find yourself in real trouble.’

‘In a real bind,’ Melody quipped.

‘Yes. But that’s potentially serious. Here, hands behind you again. This time relax them like you did first. There!’ Brod grunted.

‘I see what you mean.’ Once again Melody felt helpless. She twisted and turned her body but her wrists were securely imprisoned. She sat back in her chair, tossed her long wavy hair out of her eyes, and said, ‘Is there anything I can do if I’m gagged? That tape they put on me was incredibly tight.’

‘The SAS manual says you should try to hook or rub a gag against something. In the case of tape, you might have been able to catch it on a nail in the wall — but be careful of your skin if you ever have to do that — or loosen a corner of the tape by rubbing it against a carpet or something similar. Let friction do the rest. The same goes for cloth. I’ll show you.’

Once more, Brod stepped behind Melody, took a neatly folded white handkerchief from his breast pocket, and folded it into a tighter wad.

‘You were telling me about Hudson … ’ Melody began before she was silenced as Brod inserted the wad into her mouth between her teeth.

Her reaction was to bite down on it and Melody sat quietly while Brod took a second handkerchief from his trouser pocket. It was neatly folded too, and was therefore clean. He made into a triangle and then rolled it into a narrow band from the apex to the long base. He used it to hold the pad in place between Melody’s lips and jaws. The cotton was drawn back across the corners of the young woman’s mouth and a double knot was tied tightly at the back of her neck under her hair. Melody sat back, feeling defeated, but interested in what Brod was about to say.

The big man sighed and resumed his seat at the desk. ‘I’ve known well the danger of that inept bunch. Hudson’s okay like I said. Karl — the tall one - is different. An ex-mercenary in several liberation armies, he embarked on a minor life of violent crime in a number of European countries. He’s a dangerous psychopath with a brain in his head. But Johnny Montague is the so-called brains behind the outfit. He’s never outgrown a naive undergraduate Marxism which he uses as a justification for feathering his own nest. He has a "take from the rich give to the poor" cast of thought where the poor are best represented by himself.’

Brod fell silent.

‘So where do we go from here?’ asked Melody. She had managed to work the gag out of her mouth. It now lay in her lap and the band of thick cotton handkerchief, worked out over her chin, hung loosely at her neck.

‘We?’ Brod replied in surprise.

‘You’re going to need me a while longer,’ said Melody persuasively.

Chapter Three