Header: Karl/Snedley gloats over Mia Chantal. The Strangler (1964), actress Diane Sayer, Movie Star News.

Footer: Mia naked in her bonds. From A John Willie Portfolio, (ed. Carl McGuire), Number 1, September 1987, p. 48 (back cover).

‘Put it down, Dearie!’ commanded Molly Fusil. Jasmine Morris complied, dropping the plaited leather wand to the grimy floor as though it burnt her fingers. ‘Now step back from Miss Hazard. Good girl, you’re getting the idea.’

Without another word, Molly walked briskly across to Jasmine and delivered a resounding slap across the girl’s cheek. It was not designed to cause serious physical damage, striking only a glancing blow; but it was designed for effect, and to sting. Jasmine plopped straight to the cement floor, her legs spread in an unladylike manner, and looked up dazedly at the Latin beauty.

‘I don’t mind you questioning Miss Hazard,’ continued Molly in a soft but deadly voice. ‘In fact, there are many questions I want to ask her too. But I don’t abide with whips. Bonds, yes; gags, yes. Persuasion is best done with words - and discomfort and a little fear. Inflicting intense pain can be counter-productive. Ever read Machiavelli? No? A prince who overdoes terror runs bad risks of becoming a victim of his own means. Jasmine, you’re a little girl. Take it from an experienced woman. What you do can rebound upon you. Destinos, si? ‘

Molly turned and strode to Melody. Both women locked eyes. Molly gave a smile that sent a shiver down Melody’s spine. But Melody detected also a trace of sadness in that smile. None of the others saw it. They were out of the line of sight. Brentford was helping Jasmine to her feet. Johnny Montague was fumbling with a cigarette, which with a shrug he threw away in the next instant. Orly and Hudson watched aghast and immobile, though Orly had one knee bent as though he was about to run forward. Does she know that Orly has a gun? Melody wondered. But, like the others, Orly showed no further sign of action.

Molly put her Luger away in a holster nested at the wide leather belt of her cat suit. The group was frozen in one of those awkward pauses that sometimes occur during parties, when for an inexplicable reason all falls quiet, although in this case Molly Fusil’s sudden appearance on the scene together with Johnny Montague and big Bill Hudson was cause enough for the expectant hush.

Molly took a deep breath and broke the silence. ‘Get yourself cleaned up, Jasmine.’ She left out the ‘dear’ this time. ‘There’s a bathroom on the upper floor. Did you know this is where Johnny hangs out?’ Jasmine shook her head dumbly. ‘Just a lucky coincidence? You have been here before, I know. I guess every warehouse looks the same in the dark.’

Jasmine shuffled disconsolately from the room. No one offered to assist her, least of all Brentford and Orly who were staring at Melody white-faced. ‘My dear lady,’ Brentford began, addressing Melody, ‘We had no idea ...’

‘... that the Morris girl would turn out such a bitch?’ Molly ended the sentence for him. ‘Well,’ Molly shrugged, ‘People change you know, especially when fabulous wealth seems within their grasp. She had it in her. I could tell. I’ve seen a lot of young women like her. Butter couldn’t melt in their mouths. Cold.’

‘Hey, Kid,’ said Johnny Montague hoarsely, ‘The game-plan?’

‘Thanks, Johnny. I almost forgot.’ Molly turned to the others. ‘Miss Hazard and I have to talk.’ The group relaxed visibly. The prospect of a verbal cross-examination of their beautiful prisoner restored order to their criminal lives.

‘Yeah. Le’s go upstairs,’ said Hudson. The sudden interruption from that unexpected quarter brought everyone back to life.

‘Bill’s right. C’mon,’ agreed Johnny, and he started for the door. ‘Yous two blokes too,’ he added pointedly to Brentford and Orly. They followed Johnny and Hudson, throwing nervous glances behind them towards Melody. Melody nodded, hoping that they would get the message that she felt comparatively safe. After all, Molly had stopped Jasmine from continuing the whipping. She would hardly indulge in it herself. But all thoughts fled Melody’s mind as she steeled herself to face the inquisition.

*

Mia Chantal looked up wearily as Murgatroyd bent over her. She was barely conscious as he propped her up with her back against one of the dank stone walls. But she regained interest as her captor began to fumble with the knot of the handkerchief at the back of her neck. Oh God, at last! As the tightly bound cloth was pulled roughly away, a thin trickle of blood ran down her chin from a corner of her mouth and she coughed uncontrollably, her body shuddering in the bonds in which she was so tightly trussed. Mia could not work her mouth properly; could not even whisper a thank-you.

Next the headscarf was pulled down around her neck and a flask of water held to her lips. Mia concentrated on each of the small freedoms as they came, the release of the gag, the removal of her scarf, the cool liquid filtering between lips that did not want to work properly. She closed her eyes, only dimly aware of the ropes being removed from around her arms and body, and from her legs. When the tape was stripped from her wrists, her arms fell uselessly to her sides.

Like a rag doll, Mia was carried somewhere upstairs and laid on a couch. She recognised it, and the room, proving what she had suspected ever since that strange out-of-body dream. She was back in the Casa Medroso. Cunning of Murgatroyd to double back on his tracks. The building would have been sealed by the KAS troops as a crime scene. It was not likely that people would be investigating it for a day or two, long enough for Murgatroyd to figure out what to do next. For Mia had come to the realistic conclusion that Sir Herbert Murgatroyd, now a hunted man, had not many options left and was probably desperate. That made him even more dangerous. Deep fatigue wrestled within her against outright terror as to what he was going to do with her. At the least, she knew she was a hostage and that if Murgatroyd succeeded in slipping the ever-tightening police net around him he would not let her go easily. But, for the moment, fatigue won out over terror. Mia slipped into the deep and dreamless sleep that comes with exhaustion and long-delayed shock.

*

Molly stood facing Melody, her arms crossed beneath breasts that pressed ripely against the cat suit. ‘The best place to start,’ she said slowly, ‘is to ask what on earth Jasmine must have in mind when she keeps on accusing you of having Murgatroyd’s Folly - the diamond?’ Melody made a faint croaking sound through her gag. ‘Hmm, you can’t speak, I know. And I’m not going to untie all those scarves she’s wrapped your face in. In fact, I don’t think questioning you will yield any result. You didn’t crack under Karl’s gentle ministrations when he and Johnny held you a prisoner in the dockside tenements, so there’s no likelihood that you’ll tell any more than you did then. Isn’t that so?’ Melody nodded slowly, wondering what was coming. ‘I thought as much. On the other hand, the person most in need of a little persuasion is Jasmine Morris herself. I suspect that she knows more about this affair than she’s said. You think that too, don’t you?’ Again Melody nodded.

Molly walked to the door, turning at the threshold. ‘We’re not going to stay here long so I won’t take my bag with the keys to the Merc and the mobile phone till we’re on our way out. Languish awhile, dear Miss Hazard! Test the knots. Feel very, very helpless!’ And with a soft laugh Molly Fusil disappeared, her high heels clicking on the wooden steps that led upwards.

Melody’s mind raced. She knew that Molly the Gun was devious. She also understood that the woman had been speaking to her in some sort of code. She listened. Faint sounds of voices drifted from the upper level. How far was this room from Johnny Montague’s small warehouse apartment where she had been held not long ago, only to be released by Johnny as part of a working agreement between them? They would be down any minute. And they would surely take her along as a hostage. They could bargain her freedom for theirs.

Melody tested the bonds at her wrists. She let her hands and fingers go as limp and relaxed as possible. Her arms too she allowed to hang loosely in the ropes. Immediately she felt the cord slip around her wrists. She wriggled her arms and hands, taking care not to tense her wrists, resisting the panicked urge to strain against the bonds. Gradually she managed to slip one hand free with a minimum of grazed skin. After that, the ropes seemed to fall away. It had taken little more than thirty seconds, although to Melody it felt desperately slow.

It took more time, however, to bend and with difficulty untie the knots in the ropes that lashed her legs and waist to the post. But soon that step was also accomplished. Staggering a little, Melody pulled the layered scarves from her face, leaving them nested about her throat as if she wore a single very thick silk scarf. With shaking fingers she worked on the knot at the back of her neck. Finally her mouth was free of the knotted gag that Jasmine had tied so tightly behind her teeth.

She listened. There was now no sound from above. There might still be time for her to slip away. The means of escape were right at hand, Molly’s car keys and mobile phone. Molly had drawn her attention to them pointedly, a hint that Melody speedily took advantage of.

Snatching up keys and mobile, Melody almost ran across the warehouse floor to the side entrance. The Mercedes stood in semi-darkness close to the tin wall of the warehouse. The door unlocked and opened smoothly. Melody slipped into the driver’s seat and inserted the key in the ignition. The vehicle started with a muted roar that diminished quickly into a soft purr. Putting it in gear, Melody gently eased the car across the broad driveway and through the open double gates, not switching on the headlights till she had put a block between herself and the warehouse.

*

Molly looked down from a dirt encrusted window high up near the roof of the warehouse. ‘It was easy to have her take the bait, Johnny. Melody is intelligent. She knows something.’

‘Yeah, kid. The others are waiting in the van as you said. We’d better move before we lose her ... say, the whip business ...?’

‘Not now, Johnny. Later I’ll tell you all about it.’

*

During her uncomfortable ride in the car’s trunk, Melody had done a lot of thinking, especially after that strange string of thoughts she had about Mia Chantal. I’ll follow that hunch, she thought. I think I know where she is. And I’d better phone Brod and tell him about it. He’ll say I’m a fool, and that I should wait till the squad can join me, but there’s no time to waste. If that was a message from Mia then she’s in terrible danger!

Melody accelerated smoothly onto the freeway that led out of the city, at the same time punching out a phone number that would reach Broderick Clifford at any time. The Merc sped through the night. Unknown to Melody, a black nondescript van followed a hundred yards or so behind with its lights dimmed. Melody was also unaware that she was carrying another passenger. For the first time in the history of that particular Mercedes Benz its trunk held a willing occupant.

*

When Mia came to, she was not sure at first where she was. She lay awhile in that state of waking sleep where her mind told her it did not want to come to full wakefulness. Something felt strange. For a long while Mia could not pin down what it was. Then it came to her. She was more comfortable than she had any right to be. She moved her body experimentally. She was lying on her back. The soft but firm surface suggested that she still lay on the sofa. And she was no longer resting on her arms. Mia moved her hands but with very little result. As she had guessed, her wrists were still bound, but they were now in front of her. She wriggled her toes. This told her that her ankles were still tied, but there seemed to be some limited movement. Her ankles appeared to be tethered a few inches apart, not bound together as they had been. She was warm, and that was because she still had the heavy overcoat, which covered her from her ankles to her chin.

Mia lifted her head slightly, feeling immediately that something was still bound over her face. She explored with her tongue. She was lightly gagged. A broad bandage was wrapped firmly around her mouth and cheeks and she could feel the knot tied at the back of her neck just under her heavy dark hair. The cloth felt like silk, probably a scarf. Its texture rubbed slickly against the soft skin of her cheeks. She guessed that she could slip such a gag without difficulty, and at the same time knew that to do so might be foolish. If Murgatroyd was about, any attempt to free herself would be met with a decidedly more uncomfortable trussing-up. Best to lie still and assess the situation.

When Mia opened her eyes, she saw with a shock that Sir Herbert Murgatroyd was sitting in one of the armchairs that matched the sofa, facing her at close range. Mia shivered at the image that sprung to mind of his hands unfastening her overcoat and touching her body while she lay unconscious. The soiled feeling was not ameliorated by the reasonable thought that he would have had to do that in order to free her arms when they were bound behind her. Mia watched her captor with large frightened eyes, not daring to move.

Murgatroyd stirred and spoke. ‘I’ve been watching you a long time, Mia Chantal. You certainly are a very beautiful woman. The high price I find for you will be some small consolation for losing this branch of my empire. Ahh, but you know what the future has in store for you!’ he added with a chuckle as Mia made an involuntary and unsuccessful attempt to sit up. ‘There’s no need for me to draw pictures for you. However, I can say that whether you find yourself the sex slave of a sheik, a mandarin, or a Yakusa party boss will depend entirely on which ship leaves the docks area tomorrow. It will carry us both. I will be in the relative comfort of a stateroom. Unfortunately, though your charming company on the voyage would be a welcome diversion over the days, such an arrangement is too risky. No my dear. You will have to travel in one of those reinforced cabin trunks, in the hold. Drugged, of course, at the beginning, and then with plenty of time to think about your own folly in attempting to cross me, for the rest of a very cramped and immobile trip. I will talk to you some more about that later. Perhaps you will beg me to be more lenient? I might listen.’

Mia shook her head vigorously. Murgatroyd chuckled gleefully. ‘Such a pity one of your friends can’t join us, such as the delectable Melody Hazard ... or that double-crossing Spanish bitch Molly Fusil! Now that’s a woman who could have gone a long way in my organisation. But now the only way she will go if I ever, ahh, acquire her, will be a deep drop at sea. I don’t mind telling you that I’m toying with that option in your case. Having a bound hostage on my hands will slow me down. Yes. It’s either export or immersion for you, and I have not yet made up my mind.’

Mia felt cold and sweat broke out over her brow. The knowledge that Murgatroyd was painting these scenarios in order to terrify her in no way changed the fact that his words had their effect. She was alone and helpless. No one knew where she was. She was too weak and ill to run for it even if she had the opportunity.

*

‘Melody, stay where you are! Pull off to the side of the road and wait for the squad car. It’s too dangerous for you to go on alone to that place.’

‘Can’t do it, Brod. Not with Mia in danger. You know yourself what Murgatroyd is capable of. And anyway, you and the troops will be along quick fast ...’

‘Damn! She’s switched off her mobile,’ said Brod in exasperation. ‘Get the two sergeants in here on the double.’

‘Already done while you were talking to Miss Hazard,’ replied Oscar Holme. ‘A vehicle’s waiting.’

‘Good. There’s no time to lose. God, what I’d give to have Miles around at a time like this.’

‘Softly softly,’ warned Oscar.

*

In a move calculated to throw Mia off balance, Murgatroyd rose from the armchair, leaned forward and pulled the overcoat from the young woman. Then he knelt at one end of the sofa and untied the cord that anchored her legs. Taking her familiarly behind her knees with one hand, he swung Mia’s legs off the sofa and her feet to the floor, his other hand supporting her back and helping her to sit, something she no longer had strength to do unaided.

‘I’m allowing you to freshen up. Use this opportunity well. It will be your last for a very long time. Perhaps the last little dignity you will have.’

When Mia reached the bathroom off the hall, supported by Murgatroyd, she felt steadier on her feet. As she reached the door, she pulled herself away from the lecher’s grasp, rearranging her lace blouse. ‘You - You’re despicable,’ she began. Murgatroyd laughed nastily, placed a hand on her buttock and propelled her into the room and closed the door.

With her cheeks burning and tears in her eyes, Mia set about the task of restoring herself so that she would be at least halfway presentable. Okay, I’m going to be bound and gagged again, and stored away for a long sea voyage. But a girl has some pride. She reached for the hairbrush that lay on a shelf above the wash basin.

With her toilette as complete as she could manage, Mia stepped firmly into the hall and walked the few paces back to the front room. But it took an effort. She was still on the brink of exhaustion and she knew there was no point in trying to escape. If she attempted to run she knew that she would fall. Instead, Mia Chantal entered the large room and faced her captor bravely.

Murgatroyd held a garment in one hand. It was the dark business jacket that Mia had worn earlier when she and Melody were Molly Fusil’s prisoners. He threw it to Mia who almost fell as she caught it.

‘You can put that on. It will keep the cold out. It looks better on you than that oversize coat.’

Mia saw her trusty overcoat lying in a crumpled heap at the end of the sofa and wished that Murgatroyd was not so fashion-conscious. Slowly she pulled on the jacket and fastened the buttons. It had once formed part of an outfit to die for, supplied by Molly Fusil, but now the jacket contrasted oddly against the grubby and torn black skirt and lace blouse she still wore. It was not as proof against the cold as the overcoat.

Murgatroyd indicated one of the heavy straight-backed dining chairs. It had been placed in the centre of the room. ‘Sit,’ he commanded. Here it comes, she thought. The man picked up a creased handkerchief. It was the one that Mia had worn for hours as a gag. A smudge of blood was visible on it. ‘Hands on the arm-rests!’ When Mia obeyed this command, Murgatroyd wound the cloth twice around her right wrist and the arm-rest and tied off a very tight knot against the wood below, where her fingers were unable to reach. From his pocket Murgatroyd took another handkerchief and bound Mia’s left wrist similarly to the other arm-rest. The cords that had been used to tie Mia before were now brought into service again to secure her ankles and her legs at the knees. The man’s hands stroked her thighs, sending a shiver of revulsion through her.

He stood back. ‘Not good enough, ‘ he mumbled. ‘Can’t find enough rope when it’s needed!’ Murgatroyd disappeared into the dining room where after a few moments Mia heard the sounds of cloth ripping. When he returned, her captor was carrying over his arm several coils of cloth that had been fashioned into makeshift rope. As he bound her into the chair at the waist and across her body, Mia saw that her ties appeared to be torn strips of large table napkins knotted together. A short piece was used to anchor her feet to the bottom rung of the chair.

Murgatroyd was again out of ‘rope’ but, although the bonds felt secure to the young woman, her tormentor was still not satisfied. He disappeared again into another part of the house. This time when he returned he carried a suitcase which he placed on a nearby coffee table. Muttering to himself, he reinforced Mia’s wrist bonds with two hideously patterned neckties, one with iridescent green stripes, the other in red polka dots. Mia shivered, her aesthetic sense in tatters. He’s insane, she thought, muttering and carrying on like in this way. The man’s beginning to crack. Murgatroyd now appeared satisfied with his handiwork as far as Mia’s bonds were concerned.

There was one final, obvious, thing to do. Murgatroyd made another trip to the suitcase and returned holding two large handkerchiefs. ‘I have to leave you awhile, Miss Chantal. So you must undergo the indignity of wearing a gag once more. If you promise not to try to eject it, I will not make it tight. Do we have a bargain?’

‘Yes. But there’s no need to gag me. This place is so isolated that no one will hear me if I did yell for help.’

‘All the same ...’ Murgatroyd shook out one of the handkerchiefs and bunched it into a wad. ‘Open wide.’

The thick cotton was packed into Mia’s mouth with great deliberation. ‘Take it all in,’ he warned. The other handkerchief was folded into a triangle and then to a wide bandage, and in a short time Mia’s lower face was covered. The bandage was tight enough to compact her cheeks against the gag in her mouth. She knew that she could make noise, but no sound that would penetrate beyond the four walls of the large room. She wondered whether she dared work the stuff out of her mouth when Murgatroyd was gone. It was unlikely that anyone passing by on the distant road would hear her cries, but unlikely things can happen. The gag was already uncomfortable and, as Sir Herbert Murgatroyd left the chateau, Mia in an act of defiance began to work the bandage from her face.

*

The gates and pillars of the chateau were blanketed under a light ground mist when Melody eased the Merc to a halt. She dimmed the lights and, leaving the motor running, alighted and inspected the lock. As she hoped, it had been smashed by the first KAS troops when the house was invested, and the padlock left so that from a distance it looked secure. A light push was all that was required for the gates to swing open on well-oiled hinges. Melody slipped back into the car and accelerated gently down the driveway. She pulled off at the first line of trees, killed the lights, walked softly back to the gates and closed them. As she retraced her steps she confirmed that the vehicle would not be seen easily from the road or the gravel driveway.

A minute later Melody came in sight of the chateau. She was glad that she had taken those precautions. At first glance the place was in darkness. However, a glimmer of light escaped one of the heavy curtains drawn across the front windows. A night light? But Melody knew better. If Mia was being held somewhere in the chateau, it was a good bet that her captor would be there too. Was it Murgatroyd? Karl had vanished into the sea during the struggle with Miles deVille. The fate of the two men was unknown. Melody choked back a sob at the thought of Miles lost. So there was probably only one person to contend with. None of the other gang members could be involved, for she had just escaped from them. The grounds were empty and silent. Brod and the police were on their way. The risk was minimal. She would take a quick look through the window, then wait for the cavalry to arrive.

*

Meanwhile, Mia Chantal had succeeded in slipping the handkerchief from her face and ejecting the gag, which now lay in her lap. She waited quietly. There was no point in calling for help. Her attempted negotiation with Murgatroyd had been an unsuccessful bluff to persuade her captor not to gag her. She licked her lips and savoured what she knew would be a short-lived pleasure. Her struggles had no effect on the bonds that held her to the chair.

There was a sound at the door. Mia held her breath as she heard footfalls on the hallway carpet. Murgatroyd re-entered. ‘I see you’ve disobeyed orders. Never mind. There’s fog outside. Any cries you attempted will not have travelled far.’

‘I didn’t try to yell.’ Mia tried to infuse as much disdain for the man in her voice as she could. ‘My mouth’s far too dry for that, you despicable ...’ The young woman proved her point, and at the same time spoiled the effect by breaking into a coughing fit.

Murgatroyd smiled. ‘You’re a feisty slip of a girl. But it won’t help you.’ He cocked his head in a listening attitude. In the silence, Mia heard the front door open and close. Murgatroyd rocked back on his heels, his hands thrust deep into his trouser pockets and leered at her. ‘You have an old friend. He’s looking forward to seeing you again.’ A figure appeared in the doorway, its face clearly lit by the ceiling light in the room. Mia felt sick to the stomach.

‘Hoo well, here we are again!’

*

As she approached the chateau, Melody heard the crunch of a vehicle’s tyres approaching on the gravelled driveway. Her heart in her mouth, she crouched down in the bushes at the edge of a flower garden below the window. From that obscured position, she had only an impression of someone stepping out of the car and entering the house. A minute later another figure appeared from the vehicle, a flitting shadow thrown by the porch light. When the figure entered the building, the light went out.

Cautiously Melody sidled to the window. A narrow slit of light glowed at a point where the two heavy curtains met, and through that tiny aperture she saw a woman’s ankles. They were bound together with heavy rope to the leg of a chair. Their slimness and the shapely calves above them almost certainly identified the prisoner as Mia.

Melody shook her head. Mia bound, probably gagged, with at least two jailers watching over her. There was little that she could do to help her friend. If there had been only one captor, she might have tried to do something. Best to wait for the KAS to arrive. And best too for her to take up a more protected position back in the trees.

As Melody stepped onto the neatly mowed lawn, she heard a faint sound behind her. Before she could turn, something heavy struck her on the nape of the neck and everything went black.

Melody did not know it, but she was lucky not to have concussion or, worse, a broken neck. The tree branch with which Jasmine struck her was thick but waterlogged and covered with lichen. Its effect on the young woman was like that of an expertly applied cosh, though that too was only a matter of good fortune in Jasmine’s unpractised hands.

*

‘This is far enough, Johnny. We’ll go the rest of the way on foot.’

‘Okay, Kid ... Hudson, pull off the road, mate. We’d better put a few branches over the car, make sure no one sees it and stops to ask questions.’

‘Sure boss.’

‘Don’t keep calling me that! We’re mates, okay?’

‘Yeah, sure boss.’

‘Ohh, I dunno ...!’

‘Give the chap a go, as you Aussies say, old feller. That’s a sort of compliment.’

‘Yeah, sure, Orly mate. But it’s a different ball game now. We’re our own bosses, not under Murgatroyd’s pay any longer.’

Johnny Montague turned and squeezed Molly’s arm. ‘Comin?’

‘You bet, as you Aussies say.’

‘Or, pronto?’

Molly Fusil chuckled then, grim-faced, she stepped from the van and stood back while Brentford, Orly and Hudson camouflaged it with a variety of tree branches. She patted the heavy Luger automatic at her side. The fire of impending battle lit her eyes.

Johnny Montague looked at Molly appreciatively and chuckled to himself. Here we go kid. You’re quite a woman. A man could easy get used to having you around. But it’d be a dangerous life. That’s for sure.

Four men and one woman walked towards the gates of the chateau that reared out of the mist.

*

‘Sergeant Behre and Sergeant Jenn are ahead of us. They picked up the highway when we were still in the city.’

‘Good. Oscar, tell them to wait for us before going in ... You okay back there, Boss?’

‘I’m quite comfortable, Broderick. And please do not call me boss. We’re colleagues.’

‘Okay Boss.’

A faint sigh came from Devereau from where he sat in the back seat of the squad car. With unusually practiced hands he spun the chamber of his police issue revolver.

*

Oh my poor head!

Melody’s first impression as she regained consciousness was that her head ached dreadfully. Her second impression was that she felt cold all over. She was lying on a mattress of some sort. This was by now a familiar sensation. Cold, on a mattress, she thought muzzily. She did not attempt to open her eyes. Someone hit me. I’m probably bound and gagged though I can’t feel anything at the moment. This was not entirely true. Her body felt strange. It was somehow dissociated from her senses. Mia? Are you here too? She opened her eyes and managed slowly to focus them. The room where she lay was lit and the first thing she saw was the stonework of the wall against which the mattress on which she lay had been placed. Blank walls are rarely enlightening except in Zen retreats so Melody tried to turn her body to see what else there was around her.

It was then that she discovered several things at once. She was bound. Her arms were pinned under her and a thick cloth was wedged tight behind her teeth pulling at the corners of her mouth. The ache at the back of her neck was not helped by the large knot tied there to hold the gag in place. With an effort she rolled to her other side. It took a few more seconds to register that the floor was paved with stones that matched the walls. She must be in one of the cells of the old chateau, perhaps where she had been held before. A table and a chair over by the wall looked familiar. Then her eyes opened wide in alarm.

In the centre of the room on the cold flags sat Mia Chantal, her head bowed in an attempt to work a gag out of her mouth. Her wrists were tied high up behind her back between her shoulder blades. They were held by only a few turns of cord but in that position it was enough. It must be very painful, thought Melody with one part of her mind. But what most upset her was seeing that Mia was completely naked. She was not even wearing panties. And in that instant Melody realised why she was feeling so strange. She too was just as naked under ropes that trussed her in a network from head to toe. It explained why she felt cold, plus the fact that without clothing to offer some cushioning the ropes embedded in her limbs and body were cutting off circulation.

Looking down, Melody saw that she was trussed very differently from the way in which Mia was tied. Had two different persons bound them? Her arms were not tied at such an acute angle. Her bound wrists were in the usual place close to her buttocks. There were other differences. Mia’s ankles were crossed and her legs were bound above the knees with two separate pieces of cord. Melody’s ankles were tied and cinched together side by side instead. Mia’s upper body seemed to be harnessed with one long piece in such a way that there was a sort of halter above and below her bosom. It not only held her upper arms and crossed wrists immovable, it also lifted her firm neat breasts, highlighting the satiny tips of her nipples and the slightly darker aureola at their base. Mia’s nipples were erect from the cold and the pressure of the ropes.

Melody’s face grew hot. She did not need to remind herself that Mia was one of the most beautiful women she had ever seen. But the exquisitely chiselled planes of her body, no longer screened by elegant clothes, gave Melody delicious and unsettling feelings.

Mia raised her head and looked at Melody. Then she began to work her way towards the mattress. It was a laborious progress, for all Mia could do was to plant her feet on the floor and lift her buttocks forward, and so move very slowly towards her goal, like an inchworm. More than once, the young woman lost balance and fell onto her side. It was a struggle each time to regain her position with her arms completely useless high up behind her. Sweat glistened on Mia’s skin despite the cold of the cellar, and a trickle ran between her breasts to be absorbed by the band of cord just below them. But at last Mia reached the edge of the mattress and tumbled with a grunt to Melody’s side.

After several long breaths, Mia lifted her head and looked into Melody’s eyes. ‘Gnn yy unn’and mm?’ Melody nodded, entranced, her brows knit with puzzlement. ‘Ggg. Mmm c’nn ylll bb w mm. Nngg cnn ugg oun’ ese ggs.’

It took a moment for Melody’s brain to translate: ‘Can you understand me?’ Only just, thought Melody. ‘Good. And can you ...’ Melody shook her head no. ‘Can’t yell ...’ Melody nodded uncertainly. ‘We can talk around these gags.’ Melody nodded.

They were bound differently but they were gagged the same way, with thick cloth strips tied between their teeth, probably torn pillow cases. The cloth had enough bulk to fill the front of their mouths and entangle their tongues. It muffled but did not choke. The gags also dried out their mouths, so that it was impossible to make any real attempt to scream or call loudly for help even if help was likely to arrive. And Melody reminded herself that Brod and the KAS would were somewhere on the road behind her.

After several attempts herself, Melody started to get the hang of it, and with many false starts and misunderstandings the two young women managed to carry on a soft, murmuring conversation with their mouths at each other’s ears. It was strange, not to mention difficult, communicating in this way, but it was also comforting. It’s always been good to share these dangers together than trying to handle them alone, thought Melody.

‘How di’ y’ ge’ here?"

‘I g’ awa’ f’m Molly ‘n the gang. Took th’r car. Had a hunch you were here. Was at the window w’en someone hit me from b’hind.’

‘That was J’smnn.’

‘Mmph?’

‘She told M’g’tr’d and K’l that she hi’ ‘n the tr’nk. Yss, K’l’s ‘ere. The’ decid’ t’ h’v s’me fun s’ the’ ord’d mm t’ strip ‘n th’n K’rl tie’ m’ li’g th’s.’

‘Nuuuh!’

‘The worst is, it was Jasmine’s idea. And she was the one who tied you up while you were still unconscious. B’fore they took us down here, Jasmine made a deal with Murg. She wants to replace Molly. The big dope was flattered.’

‘What’re they goin’ t’ d’ wi’ uzz?’

Mia shook her had resignedly. ‘We’ extr’ b’ggage. Don’ l’k googg M’l’dy.’

Mia closed her eyes and lay quietly, spent from the effort to talk and breathe through the gag at the same time. Melody watched tears pool and gather under her friend’s eyelids to course slowly down her cheeks. She lifted her head and nuzzled Mia’s face. Mia opened her eyes. The grimace behind her gag may have been a smile. She rubbed her shoulder against that of Melody. Both women were cold and starting to shiver.

*

‘There’s no light Johnny. The place may be empty.’

‘Where else would Melody Hazard be going? We lost her rear lights only a mile from this place. She has to he here for sure.’

‘Boss! Boss!’

‘Don’t call me .., Okay, what it is Hudson?"

‘Look ere, Boss. The Merc. As good as new.’

‘Yeah? ... Yeah, didn’t do a thorough job of hiding it did she?’

‘That’s a fine alternative getaway vehicle,’ whispered Orly.

‘Your right. Hudson, cover it better so’s no one will see it next time. Yeah Molly?’

‘This means Melody Hazard must be in the Casa Medroso. Come on Johnny. Orly, keep your gun handy.’

‘Wha- ? How did you know?’

‘I’ve got eyes in the back of my head, didn’t I tell you?’

*

A loud clanking sound startled the two prisoners to attention, and the door grated open on rusty hinges. The cellar they were in must have been one of the unused sealed ones that Melody had passed ages ago during the escape from the chateau. Their three captors stood framed in the doorway. Karl, looking wild eyed and weather-beaten, carried what appeared to be a large sack over his arm. Jasmine beside him was holding several thick coils of rope. Murgatroyd stood in the background and watched with an avuncular grin on his pudgy face.

‘We’ll show you how it can be done,’ said Jasmine in a businesslike tone. She cast a glance at Karl. ‘Just watch what I do, and follow what I do,’ she added patronisingly. Melody and Mia both wondered whether Karl missed that or simply did not care. As if Karl needed lessons in tying women!

‘Throw the tarp down and spread it out. That’s right. We’ll do Miss high and uppity Hazard first shall we? You take her shoulders, I’ve got her legs.’ Between them, Jasmine and Karl lifted Melody and lay her along one edge of the heavy tarpaulin. ‘Let her head stay out. I want her to see what’s coming.’

Melody watched in anguish as Karl and Jasmine lifted Mia and placed her at her side. Their eyes met. Mia registered weary surprise, nodding silently, acknowledging the look of concern in Melody’s eyes. Without further ado, Melody and Mia were rolled over and over within the stiff scratchy cloth until all of it encased their bodies. They were face to face. Thighs pressed against thighs, breasts against breasts, sex against sex. Thick ropes were then tied around their ankles and legs, and about their waists and chests, so that the joint cocoon could not be unwound. The two young women’s bodies were crushed so tightly together that they could scarcely breathe. Melody knew that Jasmine was motivated by cruelty by not wrapping their heads and faces as well, wanting them to see what was going to be done to them, but she could not help feeling grateful. It would have been sheer horror to be completely sealed in the heavy unyielding fabric, even with her dear friend as a close fellow-victim.

When she had finished, Jasmine removed their gags. ‘Enjoying this?’ she asked. Melody made a face and shook her head. Jasmine continued. ‘You’re so fine high and mighty that I couldn’t resist bringing you closer.’ Jasmine giggled. ‘What do you think Karl, Murgy? Aren’t they two lovely babies, all snug together?’ Karl giggled. It was a maniacal sound. Sir Murgatroyd grinned broadly. ‘If they are such friends, they might as well die together,’ Jasmine continued.

‘Why don’t you just shut up and get on with it?’ Melody burst out angrily. ‘You might do whatever it is you’re planning for us, but you won’t get away with it. The police are on the road right now!’

Jasmine laughed gaily but there was a hint of hysteria in her voice when she added, ‘I don’t believe you. That’s an old line! This place is far away from any people. And Murgy is so clever, they won’t think of looking here again.’

‘I wouldn’t be so sure of that,’ said Melody defiantly. ‘If you harm us it will be worse for you. They’ll throw the book at you.’ It was Melody’s last ploy, she knew. The look of jealous hate in Jasmine’s eyes almost made her quail, but she forced herself to be brave.

‘That’s enough!’ exclaimed Jasmine shrilly. She bunched up the handkerchief that had been Melody’s gag earlier and forced it between her teeth and all the way into her mouth. Melody did not resist. There was no point in fighting the inevitable. Jasmine turned to Mia and did the same to the dark haired beauty. ‘Karl, find me something to hold the packing in place.’

With a suppressed giggle, Karl produced a razor sharp knife from a sheath under his jacket and cut two strips along the canvas at Melody and Mia’s shoulders. Jasmine took one of the pieces and looked at it thoughtfully.

‘Make a knot in it,’ said Karl with a knowing look.

Jasmine followed Karl’s movements and, when the knot had been tied in the centre of the thin canvas strip, she drew it into Melody’s mouth and tied it hard against the back of her neck over her hair. The sharp-edged cloth filled the space behind her teeth and forced the cotton packing deeper, triggering the gagging reflex. Melody bucked involuntarily until she was able to control the choking. Her sweat mingled with that of Mia who had turned her head aside. Melody felt weak and sick, and she was mortified at having very likely hurt her friend.

Karl now forced Mia’s gag into her mouth. Mia fought silently throughout the ordeal until the first knot was tied at the back of her neck. She gave a faint grunt as Karl tightened the bandage between her teeth and doubled its knot. It stretched Mia’s jaws and caused a gagging reaction in her too. Karl and Jasmine ignored the sounds as they scrambled to their feet.

‘You said there was another cellar under this one?’ asked Jasmine.

‘Yuh.’

‘Murgy dear, help me with the Misses Muck. Karl, go and get the heaviest chains you can find, and bring them down.’

Karl gave Mia and Melody a distinct leer as he went out the door.

Murgatroyd and Jasmine between them carried Melody and Mia into the corridor and along it for some distance before turning down a narrow staircase. The steps seemed to be cut out of the cliff itself on which the chateau stood. There was no door to the cellar room they entered. Feet splashed on a stony surface that had also a layer of sand. The surface was uneven and seemed to slope upwards.

The two friends were placed on the sandy floor. Melody, who lay on top, had to lift her head to see her captors. Mia was forced to turn her head to one side. She had a more limited field of vision. The light was dim, with a bluish watery hue, but it was possible to make out the figures standing over them. From somewhere not far away Melody could hear water gurgling.

Their two captors stood silent, watching them where they lay. Jasmine sniggered. Then the sounds of heavy footfalls could be heard and a few moments later Karl appeared through the open-way. In the crook of an elbow he carried several coils of massive chain. It looked like the sort used for mooring boats. He dumped the chains on the floor.

The three captors worked together in subdued haste, not saying a word. It was hard to sit Mia and Melody up together in order to wind the chains around their bodies because they were lying face to face, and because of the stiffness of the cloth in which they were encased. In the end, Murgatroyd supported the two women while Karl wound one length of chain around and around their upper bodies. There was enough of it to go round three times. Then Mia and Melody were lowered to the floor.

‘You’re probably wondering why we’re going to so much trouble,’ said Jasmine. Murgy was all for taking you both into the trees and quietly strangling you. But I thought that was too quick. If I can’t have the diamond, no one will have it. Your secret, Melody Hazard, will go with you to your watery grave. And Karl of course wants his revenge on Mia Chantal who has made such a fool of him in the past. Your fates are sealed.’

Murgatroyd and Karl, who had scarcely said a word throughout the proceedings, laughed soundlessly in the background. Both men were wild-eyed. That was more frightening than if they had joined in loudly gloating over their victims.

What does she mean by a watery grave? Melody craned her neck in an effort to see more of their surroundings.

Jasmine laughed, a little hysterically. ‘This place used to be an old mooring ramp. Didn’t it Karl? Karl knows. When it comes high tide, the seawater enters through that narrow hole.’ She indicated a sluice at the foot of the sloping floor. ‘It will come up, ever so slowly, to your feet first, then higher, and higher. You’re anchored down by the chains. No one will find you because no one apart from us knows that this place exists.’

The trio began to walk to the steps. Melody found herself struggling frantically, making gugging noises through her open mouth. ‘Scream all you like. Nobody will hear you, but we’ve made sure by tightening your gags. That’s to remove all hope. You will both die by slow drowning. But till then you will remember Jasmine Morris, that little shop girl you laughed at behind her back. That little girl who would be rich by now if it was not for your carelessness!’

Melody now knew with scarcely a doubt what had happened to the Duck’s Egg Diamond that had so mysteriously disappeared. Jasmine’s parting words almost clinched the inference. But she would not be alive to put her hunch to the test.

Jasmine’s hysterical laughter diminished up the steps and faded. Melody looked down at Mia who was lying silent beneath her gazing up at the ceiling. Mia was clearly having difficulty breathing, not only because of the cruel gag that bound her mouth but also because of the tight canvas that mummified her, and because she and Melody were so tightly wedged together.

They were at the edge between life and death. Water was already lapping at their feet, creeping higher with each wave through the narrow sluice to the old landing where they lay.