When we arrived at her place, there was her pretty lace underwear lying on the floor. Looks like she had dropped them clean from a folded laundry pile...she had rested on her sofa. They were just as beautifully silken as her skin.From where I was sitting on the sofa, i could see shadows of her breasts on the bathroom wall. I had wondered if Francine had deliberately left her bathroom door ajar, so I could see her, somehow.Her shadows were just as lovely as she was and my mind and heart were. She was clearly very scared; crying, mascara running down her cheeks. I looked across at Jacqueline. She seemed to be coping all right. She seemed to be studying the women, trying to remember each detail for a description that might help the police later. I followed her lead as the Manageress made her way slowly across to the desk, keeping her hands up in the air and staring at the gun that was pointed directly at her.The safe was a big, Victorian thing with a great brass lock plate. The bunch. More

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