Midday

Dani checked her watch, it was just after midday when the white van pulled up and parked behind her car.

Despite her misgivings about getting involved, Dani had called the firm that previously helped her retrieve a painting from a client who was loath to return it. They are a respectable company that played very much within the rules. But the boss had flirted with her endlessly and Dani thought it worth asking his advice on how to get James’ photo back. He then put her in touch with a Serbian man, Miroslav, who he described as running a ‘rather unconventional security company’. He later elaborated that given the right money, Miroslav would get Dani the Mona Lisa if she wanted, although she was pretty sure James would swap the Mona Lisa for his mother’s photo in a heartbeat.

After an initial phone call and then a meeting at a coffee shop, Dani was certain that Miroslav was the right man for the job. He was a huge, bulky Serbian guy with a crew cut and a long black leather jacket who looked every inch of the cliché Eastern European gangster that he probably was. The right amount of money turned out to be two thousand pounds. Dani thought it cheap and didn’t haggle.

They had parked a little way up the street from James’ father's house so as not to raise attention. Dani got out of the car and greeted Miroslav, handing him the money in a brown envelope.

“Thank you,” he said, tucking the envelope into his jacket pocket without checking the contents, “This is Branko.”

Branko stood a few inches taller than Miroslav and wore the same black leather jacket and crew-cut hair. A small scar running across his right brow completed his menacing aura.

Branko never said anything to Dani when he was introduced, although he did smile at her so she put his lack of words down to having no English. It didn’t matter though, Dani would be doing all the talking, Miroslav and Branko looked the part, which was what mattered the most. If her companions’ uniform of choice was the gangster look, Dani’s was far more formal. She wore a very business-like grey trouser suit with sensible short-heeled black shoes and tied her hair up in a bun. To finish off her look she had a clipboard and leather briefcase.

“You know the plan, just follow my lead,” she said and the two men followed her down the street.

The bedroom Jessica had selected for Dani was already clean and tidy but that didn’t stop her from going over it again, mainly because the cleaning frenzy conveniently distracted her from worrying about James. Although James seemed quite calm, Jessica knew he was well aware that a lot depended on his conversation with Lucy today. She was grateful Sarah was there though, her being close by when James told Lucy about the harem should help to make her feel safe and not like she was being recruited into some sort of cult.

That thought made Jessica giggle, James was the most unlikely cult leader you could imagine.

And even if she did say yes, which was far from certain, Lucy's joining would create another problem. Jessica had made a big thing of insisting that Dani live in the house full-time but Lucy was moving into a new flat and would not be able to live with them until her lease ran out in twelve months. And on top of all that, she worried how James would take the rejection if Lucy said no.

Behind these thoughts, Jessica had another worry that plagued her mind, Emily. For reasons that now escaped her, Jessica had made bold claims to James and Dani that she could recruit Emily into the harem. With hindsight she knew it was a damned silly thing to do, she didn’t have the faintest idea how to even broach the subject with her, let alone have any confidence she would join them.

Around midday, Jessica was on her hands and knees, needlessly scrubbing the toilet in Dani’s ensuite when her mobile rang. Hoping it was James she quickly pulled off her yellow marigold cleaning gloves and looked at her phone, the name on the screen was Emily.

“Hi!” said Jessica chirpily, “How’s things?”

“Not good. I’m afraid I can’t make our session tonight,” said Emily, her voice breaking up slightly as she spoke.

Jessica hid her disappointment, “Oh don’t worry, we can rearrange for another day, it’s no big deal.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure I can do it another time, I’ve just...I’ve just…” But she couldn’t finish her words, emotions got the better of her and she broke down and cried.

Panic rose inside Jessica, “Emily, are you okay? What’s happened, are you in danger?”

“No, no, it’s nothing like that. The company I work for has gone bust, we’ve all lost our jobs.”

“Oh Emily, that’s terrible news, I’m so sorry. I’m sure you’ll get another job. And you can still do your fitness sessions, that should bring some cash in until you get the redundancy payment.”

“I won’t get redundancy, I’ve been there less than two years so I don’t qualify. I’m supposed to get my salary tomorrow but they’ve got no money to pay us, and my rent is due.”

“Can’t your landlord give you a little leeway until you find another job?”

“No. I rent a room in a house on a week-by-week basis, if I don’t pay they’ll kick me out, there’s a massive housing shortage, they’ve got a list of people waiting for rooms. I’m going to have to move back home with my parents in Shropshire.”

“Well I might have another option for you.”

“What sort of option?”

“Jump in a cab and come over here, I’ll pay the fair. We can talk about it over a cup of tea.”

“Oh Jess, I couldn’t do that, it’s fine, I can…” but the tears once again stopped her ability to form a sentence.

“Emily, please, come over here, let me help you.”

“Okay,” she said, sobbing hard, “I’ll come over now.”

“Good girl, I’ll put the kettle on.”

“Well this is a new one on me,” said Sarah, sipping her coffee. “I’ve heard of poor quality housing with slum landlords but I’ve never heard of non-existent housing.”

“Sarah, you’re not helping,” said Lucy.

“Sorry. Look, it’s midday, that’s close enough to lunchtime for me. Shall we eat while we’re here?”

“I could eat,” said James, scanning the menu in the café.

“I should have known it was too good to be true,” said Lucy, ignoring the menu.

When they’d pulled up in the residential road not far from Liverpool Street station James suspected straight away something was wrong. Lucy had mentioned that the flat was affordable on her meagre wages but James knew that the cost of housing in this part of London was as high as the skyscrapers that dominated the city. Then the issue with the numbers started.

Lucy was given the address as 249 St Martin’s Road. But the numbers didn’t go higher than 147. For half an hour they marched up and down the street searching for the house, then they spent another half an hour trying to get hold of the online estate agent Lucy had dealt with, who was suspiciously unavailable. It wasn’t until the old woman appeared that their suspicions were finally confirmed.

She bore a striking resemblance to Miss Marple and had come out of her house to put them out of their misery, or start their misery, depending on how you viewed it. They were just the latest in a long line of people who had turned up in the street searching for the non-existent house. The police were involved Miss Marple told them, but from what she knew of it the conmen were based abroad and out of the reach of British justice. Apparently the police were trying to shut the website down, but beyond that, there was little they could do. She handed them a piece of paper with the number of the officer investigating and a web address for a charity that supported victims of fraud, then she disappeared back into her house. After that they headed to a nearby café to talk things over.

“Are you not eating?” Said Sarah.

Lucy scowled at her, “I’ve lost my appetite.”

“Well, you never know what may turn up out of the blue,” she said, winking at James.

“I might have an option for you,” he said nervously.

Before Lucy could answer, Sarah said, “This is where I give you two some privacy,” and then she left the table.

“Where’s she going? And why do we need privacy?”

“There’s something I wanted to ask you,” he said.