‘It was as you said. I got caught up in something bad, not realising what was really happening. When I discovered the truth I ran, fast.’

‘How old are you?’

‘Twenty-eight.’

‘Who knows you’re in Italy?’

‘Nobody. I have no family.’

‘What about your work colleagues?’

‘None. I’m not in work just now.’

‘There must be someone in England who’ll think it strange if you don’t return by a certain date.’

‘There isn’t. I live alone in a small rented house. I didn’t know how long I’d be away, so I told my neighbour to expect me when she saw me. I could vanish off the face of the earth and it would be ages before anyone noticed.’

She said the last words in a tone of discovery, as it was borne in on her how completely isolated she was. It was something she had vaguely recognised, but it was only now that the reality was brought home to her.

And if I’d had my wits about me, she told herself, I wouldn’t have admitted it to him. Now he knows how totally I’m in his power.

In the silence she could sense him surveying her, probably thinking how dull and unsophisticated she was for her age. It was true. She knew nothing, and it had left her vulnerable to Bruno Vanelli. Vulnerable in her heart and her life, in ways that she was only now beginning to understand.

When she’d met Bruno she’d been mostly ignorant of the world and men, and he had guessed that and played her like a fool.

Which was what I was, she thought bitterly. A fool.

‘Tell me about that suitcase you were so anxious to recover,’ the judge said. ‘Is there anything incriminating in it?’

‘No, I just didn’t like losing my clothes.’

‘Anything there that can identify you?’

‘Nothing.’

‘How can you be sure?’

‘Because of Uncle Josh.’

‘Uncle Josh? He’s travelling with you?’

‘No, of course not. He’s dead.’

‘He’s dead but he tells you what to pack?’ he recited in a voice that strongly suggested he was dealing with a lunatic.