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CRISTY: ‘… You have just been listening to our interviews with Robert and Gita Brinkley, followed by Gita’s reunion with Sadie Winters after twenty-three years. I think you’ll agree that it was very moving, and if we put ourselves in Sadie’s shoes for a moment, perhaps we can imagine how it must have felt to have this contact with Robert, who knew her mother.’

CONNOR: ‘It goes without saying that if any of you happen to know Janina Andris, or her brother Lukas, either from that time or later, we’d love to hear from you. There are photographs of them on our website, but do bear in mind that they were taken over two decades ago.

‘It’s possible Janina and Lukas returned to their homeland sometime in 2000 or maybe later, so this is a particular shout out to our overseas followers. If you guys have any information you think might help Sadie to reconnect with her family please get in touch through the usual channels.’

CRISTY: ‘We’re also keen to speak to Edwin Prosser, Mia Winters’ ex-husband – you’ll be hearing more about him in our next episode when Sadie reads out another chapter of her aunt’s story.’

CONNOR: ‘Someone else we’re trying to reach is Hilary Stokes who worked at Butlin’s in Minehead during the time Lukas Andris was there. As a reminder that was sometime in the late Nineties, early 2000s.’

CRISTY: ‘We also want to mention George Symmonds-Browne, who is thought to have been a key figure in Janina’s life back at that time. I’m sure someone out there must know him, and if so, please be in touch.’

CONNOR: ‘We’d like to thank everyone involved in the making of this podcast, our sponsors …’

Fading out the sound Connor looked across the room to Meena who was comfortably ensconced on the leather Chesterfield with Jodi and Aurora. Harry was perched on one arm, Clover on the other, while Cristy and Jacks were at their desks and Iz was busying herself filling glasses with champagne.

‘Terrific episode,’ Iz declared excitedly. ‘Everyone’s going to be looking for the missing people now so you’re bound to find them.’

‘The challenge,’ Jacks quickly put in, ‘will be sorting the nutters from the normal, and even the normals can be time-wasters or, worst of all, publicity seekers.’

Clearly taking this on board, Iz said decisively, ‘I think we need to bring someone in to help with the social media feedback. I know it takes up a lot of your time which I’m sure is better spent on following leads rather than trying to find them.’

Cristy was impressed. This was probably the first sensible suggestion she’d heard from Iz, her PR strategy notwithstanding.

‘Can we leave you to set that up?’ Cristy asked, smiling as Iz handed her a drink.

‘Indeed you can. There are specialists in the field who SLD have used in the past to great effect. I’ll get onto it first thing tomorrow.’

‘Cristy and Connor will still want to read their fan mail,’ Clover informed her dryly. ‘It’s what keeps them going, knowing all about the sexual fantasies they’re whipping up on a global level.’

‘You’re so funny,’ Cristy retorted. ‘Although I think it works for Connor.’

‘Yeah right,’ he grunted, ‘live for it, I do. Thanks,’ he said to Iz, almost smiling as she placed a glass on his desk and curtsied.

Glancing up from her adoration of the baby, Meena said, ‘You didn’t mention anything about trafficking in this episode. I thought you might.’

‘We will, when the time is right,’ Cristy replied, ‘but there’s no way Symmonds-Browne will be in touch if he thinks we’re going to expose his connections to Albescu, which is why we haven’t run the interview with Catherine Shilling yet either.’

‘Who’s Catherine Shilling?’ Iz asked.

‘The ex-detective sergeant we interviewed last week. We need to find Symmonds-Browne before we put it out there that he was involved in bringing girls into the country illegally or we don’t stand a hope in hell of ever getting him to talk.’

‘We know,’ Connor continued, ‘that he’s related to aristocracy and we also know how they protect their own when scandal comes calling.’

‘What level of aristocracy are we talking?’ Harry asked.

‘Near the top,’ Cristy replied, ‘but Symmonds-Browne is a distant cousin with no direct claim on the title himself.’

‘Shame,’ Harry retorted. ‘That really would have been a killing if you could pin a duke-in-waiting or lowly prince to forced prostitution.’

‘What does Sadie know about Symmonds-Browne and Albescu?’ Meena asked. ‘Have you told her anything yet?’

‘Only that Symmonds-Browne lived at the farm while her mother was there,’ Cristy answered. ‘She leapt to the obvious conclusion that he might be her father, but now accepts how unlikely that actually is.’

‘Because she knows her mother was probably trafficked into the country and forced into prostitution?’

Cristy nodded. ‘Understandably it’s made her feel very protective towards Janina who’d have been more or less the same age as Sadie is now when she came here.’

Iz said, ‘If you can tell me what you know about Symmonds-Browne I’ll see if SLD can help you get to him. We have a huge network of contacts, and a couple of our members are titled.’

Appreciative of the suggestion, Cristy quickly sent her an email with Symmonds-Browne’s known details and said, ‘Jacks! Are you still with us? What’s happening on your screen that’s so fascinating?’

Jacks looked up, shook his head and sat back in his chair. ‘Just checking initial feedback,’ he said, ‘but nothing doing so far. I mean, good reviews, in the main, but no one offering leads to the mispers.’

‘Mispers?’ Iz queried.

‘It’s what the police call missing persons,’ Clove explained.

Colouring, Iz said, ‘Of course. Silly me. Anyone ready for a top-up?’

Harry got to his feet, saying, ‘Time for me to go. I have a hot date tonight with your ex, Cristy. I told him to join us here for the party, but he thinks he’s not welcome.’

‘He isn’t,’ she assured him.

Laughing, Meena said, ‘If those two are gallivanting about the town, maybe the rest of us can treat ourselves to a meal somewhere very expensive?’

‘Count us in, wherever it is,’ Jodi piped up. ‘Little French? Though we might struggle to get in.’

‘Leave it to me,’ Iz instructed, and taking out her phone she made a few quick calls and said, ‘OK, we can’t get in.’ As everyone laughed she said, ‘But there’s bound to be somewhere that’ll take us at short notice on a Tuesday evening. It’s your city, any more suggestions?’

In the end they opted for a Deliveroo from one of the best Indian restaurants outside of Mumbai according to Meena, and had it brought to Jodi and Connor’s Southville town house so Aurora could be got ready for bed.

They were in the process of sorting out their chosen dishes when Jacks suddenly cried, ‘Result! Or it looks like one anyway. I’ll have to check it out, but it’s from someone called James Prosser claiming to be the son of Edwin. He’s just listened to the pod and found our email asking his dad to be in touch with us.’

‘And?’ Connor prompted when Jacks stopped. ‘Please don’t tell me the old guy’s snuffed it.’

‘No, he’s not saying that … What he’s actually saying is that his father wants nothing to do with us so can we please not mention his name again in relation to our podcast about the Winters sisters.’

Cristy and Connor exchanged glances. ‘I’m guessing he doesn’t go into why,’ Cristy ventured.

‘He doesn’t,’ Jacks confirmed.

Taking a quick decision, Cristy said, ‘Send him the story extract where his father appears at the Exmoor house. Tell him it’s due to be aired next week and this is us giving him the right to respond. Maybe that will change Prosser senior’s mind about speaking to us.’

‘On it,’ Jacks said, ‘but actually, Prosser junior is saying he’ll consider talking to us in his father’s place. Anyway, I’ll suggest a Zoom, shall I? We don’t want to be travelling all the way to the Outer Hebrides or furthest Scilly to find out he’s not really going to tell us much anyway.’

‘Good idea,’ Cristy said, and checked her phone as it rang. Her eyebrows rose and, putting the call on speaker, she said, ‘Sadie! Good to hear you. How was the drive back to Guernsey?’

‘Pretty straightforward,’ Sadie replied. ‘We got in a couple of hours ago. I thought I should tell you that Mia’s heard the latest pod and she’s saying that the Brinkleys are liars, and that I’m an interfering little fool for being so easily taken in by charlatans.’

‘OK,’ Cristy responded, drawing out the word. ‘And what did you say to that?’

‘I reminded her that she’d told you she was protecting me from the past, so if the Brinkleys weren’t part of it, maybe she’d like to tell me who was.’

‘But you do believe Gita worked for them …’

‘Of course, and that Robert met my mother. But there’s no point arguing with my aunt when she’s decided to go off on a rant about people trying to get money out of her and she’s convinced that’s what all this is about. Anyway, she said she was going to call you, I just wondered if she had.’

‘Not yet,’ Cristy replied, ‘but I hope she does.’

‘Where are you now?’ Connor asked.

‘I’ve just come up to the lodge. I hate leaving her when we’ve fallen out, but there was no getting through to her, so I’ll try talking to her again in the morning.’

Silently wishing her good luck with that, Cristy said, ‘Connor and I will probably be in Guernsey at the end of the week to speak to Corny. Are you still OK with setting that up?’

‘Of course. And who knows, Mia might be up for talking to you too. I wouldn’t take any bets on it, but she’s so unpredictable there’s no knowing what she might do. Of course, there’s always the possibility you’ll hear from her lawyers threatening to sue you if you don’t stop the podcasts.’

‘We’re kind of expecting it,’ Cristy told her, ‘but don’t worry, we’ve got lawyers too and she can’t shut us down as easily as she might think. I’ll let you know if she gets in touch. Meantime, we’ve heard from Edwin Prosser’s son who’s said he might talk to us in his father’s place. And, hang on …’ she said, as Clover put a screenshot in front of her showing a tall, well-built man with a shock of dark hair and eyes shielded by sunglasses, looking over his shoulder as he walked through a grand-looking doorway. ‘Is that …?’

‘George Symmonds-Browne,’ Clover finished. ‘Catherine Shilling just sent it.’

Cristy studied the shot more closely, feeling something decidedly strange coming over her as she took in the way he seemed to be staring right at the camera as if threatening whoever was behind it. There was a woman next to him, short with fair hair, but in profile so it wasn’t possible to make out her features. She didn’t appear particularly young, probably mid-forties, and the same went for the other man in the shot, although his back was turned completely so there was no knowing what he looked like.

Clover was saying, ‘Apparently Catherine Shilling asked someone, presumably still active in the force, to do some more digging on our behalf and they came up with this. She thinks it was taken in 2016, in a place called Vence, north of Nice, and could be connected to an investigation that was going on at the time into an organized crime network operating on the French Riviera.’

‘Oh my God,’ Sadie murmured.

‘I’ll give Catherine Shilling a call,’ Cristy said, ‘and get back to you if she can tell me any more.’

After ringing off she checked the time and decided it wasn’t too late to call Shilling now.

‘Hi, I was expecting to hear from you,’ Shilling said, as soon as she answered. ‘I don’t have anything else yet, hopefully tomorrow or the next day, but I expect you already know that the C?te d’Azur is as synonymous with criminal gangs as it is with the disgustingly rich.’

‘How did you come by the photo?’ Cristy asked.

‘Apparently it turned up on the UK national database back in 2016, probably due to Symmonds-Browne’s connection to the undercover operation in the late Nineties and early 2000s. It was most likely sent the Met’s way for cross-referencing of some kind and got entered into the system. Anyway, I’m assured it’s him, and I’ve already given you the location, so I’ll get in touch again if I manage to find out more.’

As she ended the call, Cristy said, ‘Better send the picture to Sadie.’

‘We’ve got other shots of him,’ Clover reminded her. ‘Mainly from an old Facebook page that hasn’t been touched since 2014, and nothing connecting him to anyone or anything much apart from a horse and a couple of dogs.’

‘Have you got them there?’ Cristy asked. ‘We could run a comparison with this shot from the police files.’

‘Easier done at the office,’ Jacks informed her. ‘I’ll get onto it first thing.’

‘And now we should eat,’ Jodi and Meena declared in unison, surprising themselves and making the others laugh.

A couple of hours later, home at last and ready to crash, Cristy checked her phone as it rang and felt a thud in her heart when she saw it was David. Did she want to speak to him now? Yes, of course she did, why was she even asking herself the question?

‘Hi,’ she said, clicking on, ‘this is a surprise.’

‘I hope a welcome one,’ he responded, ‘and not too late?’

Assuming he meant the time of night, not a point in their relationship, she said, ‘It’s fine. By the way, thanks for sending the info about the finances. I’m not sure where it takes us—’

‘It’s a very broad overview,’ he interrupted, ‘and I’m afraid it probably won’t get much better than that. Their dealings are extremely well protected, as is the case with most individuals of similar net worth. The managers at Crosswell Haigh wouldn’t be doing their jobs if something dodgy could be sniffed out that easily.’

Sinking down on the edge of the bed, she said, ‘You’re a wealth manager. Do you break the rules for your clients?’

‘You can’t ask me that and expect a straight answer when there are so many ways of interpreting said rules, particularly in the finance world. Incidentally, this isn’t why I’m calling, but I’m happy to carry on discussing it if it’s something that interests you.’

The dryness of his tone made her smile and remember how much she enjoyed his irony. ‘So why are you calling?’ she asked, knowing what she wanted to hear, while dismayed with herself for hoping.

‘I said in the email I sent with the finance report that Victor Dubois, the Winters sisters’ lawyer, told me something interesting that I couldn’t share until he cleared it.’

Disappointed and intrigued, she said, ‘Has he given the go-ahead?’

‘I’m afraid not. I’m bound by my word not to reveal what he said, but I don’t have a problem with advising you to ask Sadie about Lottie’s will.’

Giving that a moment, she said, ‘OK, thanks. I guess you’re not going to tell me whether or not it will change things.’

‘I’ll let you make up your mind about that once Sadie’s given you an answer.’

There was a pause, an awkward silence that they suddenly tried to fill at the same time.

‘You first,’ he said.

‘No, you. I was just going to thank you for the call.’

‘You’re welcome. And I was about to ask if you’ve made an arrangement to come to Guernsey yet?’

‘We’ll probably be there at the end of the week. I’m not sure at this stage how long we might stay.’

‘We being you and Connor?’

‘Yes. Oh, and thanks for offering to let us stay at Papillon . It’s really kind of you, but it’s probably best if we check into the Cobo Bay Hotel.’

‘I think you’ll find it’s closed at this time of year.’

‘Oh, well, there are other hotels, obviously. I don’t want to offend your mother, or Rosie, I’d love to see them, but under the circumstances it wouldn’t feel right for me to stay at the house. I’m sure your mum understands that.’

‘OK, if that’s your decision. Will you consider seeing me while you’re here, just the two of us?’

‘I …’ What was the best way to answer that? ‘Can I think about it?’ she said. ‘I just feel that we’ve …’ What was she trying to say? Why weren’t the words coming?

‘Let me know when you’re ready to talk,’ he said, and the line went dead.