Chapter 26

"I'm sorry, Amanda. I'm afraid that's out of the question. My name is not Wilson; I'm Detective Sergeant Jim Penrose of Amersham CID. I'm in charge of the investigation into your disappearance."

"Oh." She sounded disappointed.

"I have to fly back to the UK as soon as possible. We need to locate the clinic that treated you. I don't suppose you could tell me where it's located."

Amanda shook her head. "All I remember is that it had a large garden at the front and tall trees to shelter it from the road. Sometimes, I could hear cars driving past through my window."

"Thanks. Not much to go on but every little helps."

He escorted her and Olivia upstairs. Uniformed men swarmed everywhere, opening drawers and cupboards in search of anything pertinent.

"What's going to happen to the Baron and all his men?"

"They'll be taken into custody and face trial for their crimes. I don't expect them to see the light of day for a good number of years."

"I'm still coming to terms with it all. It's like a bad dream."

"I'm going to phone my colleague in a minute, tell her that we've found you and get her to go and see your mum and dad. They'll be so pleased to know you're safe."

"Thanks, Mister Penrose. You're very kind. About last night..."

"Yes," he replied tentatively.

"I won't say anything."

"Thank you, Amanda," he replied gratefully. "I was operating undercover but it will save me a certain amount of embarrassment."

"I guess you wouldn't want it to be known that you fucked a prostitute."

"Amanda. That's not it at all. You're a beautiful young girl. You've got your whole life ahead of you. None of this was your fault. I certainly don't think of you as a prostitute."

She nodded. A woman police officer reached for her hand. "We go ambulance," she told Amanda in faltering English. Amanda followed and then stopped.

"Mister Penrose?"

"Yes, Amanda."

"Something I just remembered. The clinic. I was there before, two years ago."

"You were?"

"Overnight. I was ... wetting the bed. They treated me for it."

"Don't suppose you remember the name.

"Sorry. Mum might know though."

"Thank you, Amanda."

She looked longingly at him. "Thanks for coming to find me."

"My pleasure, Amanda. It was my pleasure."

After the third attempt, Penrose gave up trying to contact Angela. Neither her mobile or home phone was being answered. The only clue was a brief text message to inform him that she felt ill and had taken to her bed.

Hammond handed Susan over to the Italian authorities, who planned to release all the girls as soon as they'd been interviewed by detectives. The Italians claimed jurisdiction, leaving Hammond and himself slightly sidelined. Hammond had contacted the airport and confirmed their return flights for later that afternoon. With nothing further to do, they packed up and prepared to return home.

The flight was uneventful and landed just fifteen minutes late at terminal five of London's Heathrow airport. Hammond offered to put him up for the night but Jim desperately wanted to check on Angela, having still not managed to get in touch with her.

He recovered his car from the car park and arrived at her apartment just after eight o'clock in the evening. Using his spare key, he let himself in but found no sign of her, or any indication that she'd been ill in bed. He started to fume, surmising that she'd decided to renew her relationship with Joanna. Racing over to the Pierces, he decided to kill two birds with one stone: inform them of Amanda's release and shame them that they'd chosen to spend the time having sex instead of following progress in Italy.

Ringing the bell, he waited an eternity before the door cracked open and George Pierce peered nervously around the jamb.

"Yes? What do you want?" he asked tentatively.

"Where's Angela?" Penrose demanded, pushing open the door and sending George staggering back. The man was dressed in tightly fitting leather shorts and a matching jacket, open at the waist. His hand held a short whip. He blushed and tried to usher Penrose back out of the door.

"I'm busy," he muttered.

"Where is she?" Penrose screamed, racing up the stairs. "This is the last fucking straw. Angela, this is it. We're finished."

Penrose stormed into the bedroom where Joanna hung naked by her wrists from an eyebolt screwed into an overhead joist. She drooled around her gag. Her body was covered with bright red marks from where the whip had landed. He stared at her pierced nipples and then down at her sex. Two small weights dangled by a chain from a ring threaded through her clitoral hood. The air was laden with sex and Joanna's arousal plain to see. She stared at him in dismay, ashamed to be discovered in such a compromising position.

George entered behind him. "Now look here..." he protested.

"Where's Angela?" he asked, calming down slightly.

"We've not seen her for a few days. She texted us to say she was feeling under the weather. Joanna took some flowers over for her yesterday but there was no answer at the door."

"I've just come from there. The place is empty. There were even some dirty dishes in the sink. I thought ... Shit ... I'm sorry."

"Go and sit down in the lounge. We'll just get changed," George told him.

Jim skulked downstairs and sat glumly, realising what a fool he'd just made of himself. George and Joanna appeared ten minutes later, dressed casually and sheepish now that their secret life was revealed.

"I'm sorry, George. I shouldn't have just barged in the way I did. It's just I feared that..."

"I know about Angela and Joanna," George admitted.

"You do?"

"When you come home from work and find your wife bound and gagged and all dressed in latex, you begin to wonder what's going on."

"I saw the pictures on Angela's phone."

"The last few weeks have been amazing. Our sex life is better than at any time I can remember."

Putting Angela's disappearance to one side for the time being, he tackled the most important issue. "Sit down both of you," he instructed. "I have some fantastic news."

"Amanda?" Joanna gasped hopefully.

"She's currently at the British Embassy in Milan, after being interviewed by the Italian Police."

"She's alive."

"She's in good health and I hope to know tomorrow when we can expect to see her home."

Joanna burst into tears and George held her while she recovered her composure.

"Thank you," George uttered. "You can't imagine what this means. We'd started to accept the inevitable but this is..."

"I know. I spoke to her while I was over there. She's very confused. She's been through a lot. You're both going to have to be very attentive to her when she comes back. There'll probably be counselling and psychotherapy..."

"What happened to her?"

Penrose explained what he'd determined and the Pierces listened in horror without saying a word.

"Will she ever be our little girl again?" Joanna asked.

"I don't know. Until we've evaluated her, we've no idea if there's any way to undo the damage."

Joanna shook her head. "It's not fair. Why her?"