The Kidnapping of Chloe Ayling: Sex Slave or Scammer? | #441

I did 200 days of Jua Lingo Italian and then I woke up one day and I was like, I don't

care about this anymore, I never would have known from your confidence.

It's all fallen out of my head.

My friend's mum was here from Sardinian, she doesn't speak much English at all and I

know so deeply in my soul how it feels to just be in a situation where everyone is speaking

a language that you understand but you can't interject.

But like, essentially what I'm trying to say, I have been around more Italian than usual

recently because of Michael's mum.

Nothing, nothing, I answer in Spanish, it's completely gone.

Well that's the only Italian word you have to say today.

Okay, do you promise?

Apart from places.

That one I can probably manage.

We can do it.

Okay.

We, two podcasters, both alike in dignity, have a tale that absolutely gripped the UK back

in the summer of 2017 and it is, if you hadn't guessed from my Shakespeare, answer is you're

already saying it, in Fermilano, where we lay our scene, a 20 year old glamour model called

Chloe Ailing, calmly walked into the British consulate and reported her own kidnapping.

I am obsessed with this case.

Chloe claimed she had been snatched from a fake shoot by a mafia style criminal network,

placed for sale into sex slavery on the dark web and kept hostage for a week.

After realising her abductor had a bizarre Romeo and Juliet fantasy that cast her as his

unwilling leading lady, Chloe managed to convince her hapless captain to let her survive beyond

the final curtain.

It was a story so outlandish, it was almost impossible to believe, but Chloe, she was already

gearing up for an encore.

And hours after touching down in London, she was smiling and posing for the paparazzi

in her mum's front garden, calm and seemingly unruffled by her tragic ordeal.

Now of course the bloodthirsty British press swiftly smelter at, was Chloe Ailing truly

a victim, or was this just a big fat publicity stunt of Shakespearean proportions?

Only a decade and a conviction later, doubt still lingers over Chloe's sensational story.

So today we are digging through the chaos, the clickbait and the media smear campaign

to uncover what actually went down.

They say all the worlds are stage, but in this case the line between reality and fiction

is blurrier than ever.

I'm Saruti.

I'm Hannah.

And this is Redhanded and the unbelievable case of Chloe Ailing.

Let's start by meeting our key players.

Leading lady is of course Chloe Ailing.

Born and raised in Coldston, South London, that is where Linda Casey is from, isn't that

funny?

That's very weird.

That's the other episode we're going to record today for a picture of Hannah's episode.

That's very weird and actually I went for dinner with my friend the other day and she's

up.

We're moving out of like, you know, Pete London, we're looking at Coldston and I was

like, I have no idea where that is and now I do.

There's a word for when you learn a new word and then you start hearing it everywhere.

Or a new town.

Yeah.

I don't know what that is.

Maybe that's the word I'll know and then I'll keep hearing that.

Anyway, it doesn't matter.

We're in Coldston.

Wow.

Apparently a lovely little town which is why she wants to move there.

Lovely little town.

It's Croydon.

Well, to be fair, when I was researching Linda Casey for that documentary I did.

That's what people say is that like it's, it's country enough but it's 20 minutes into

Croydon.

Sure.

It looks like a nice little market town.

I'm sure it's fine.

I just think all market towns are the same.

Yeah, because they are.

What do I know?

Anyway, Chloe grew up in an average working class home with her Polish single mum, Biata

and Chloe did well at school and she had plans to study law.

But after giving birth to her son Ashton in her late teens, Chloe swapped the textbooks

for cameras and opted to pursue a career in modeling instead.

She signed up with Supermodel, which sounds really ominous, an agency run by lawyer slash

part time DJ Phil Green.

Chloe's mum and mates weren't exactly sold on Phil who to be fair had a bit of a creepy

uncle vibe.

Any part time DJ I would say, yeah.

But Chloe trusted him to look after her and to raise her profile because this girl wasn't

content with your bog standard local catalogue gigs.

Chloe wanted social media stardom and to be a household name.

I think this is the era when there was definitely like a cohort of girls slash women who were

going into the glamour industry who wanted I guess to replicate what Katie Price slash

Jordan had done and you know, say what you want about her, she is most definitely a household

name.

Sure is.

She's a lot smarter than people.

Let on.

I didn't witness this and neither did you, but we went to the podcast show last year or

the year before in London and the rest of our team went to go see Katie Price do her

session.

I'm sure even outside of the UK people know who Katie Price slash Jordan is, right?

You guys I think she is.

So yeah, they went to go see her do her talk about her new podcast and they were like,

yeah, it was wild.

It was like exactly what you would expect from her.

And then at the end, there was a guy in the audience who stood up, you know, when they

were like doing the Q and A's and he was like, I haven't got a question, but I have written

a rap or a poem or something.

I can't remember which one it was for you Katie.

Can I read it out to you?

And the team were like, she just looked him dead in the eye and said, no, which you've

got to love.

I do.

You've got to love it so much.

No.

And may I remind you of the period of my life where I sold her diamond tape ridles at

horse shows?

You don't have to remind me.

I think about it.

It's my Roman Empire.

I think about it at least once a week.

I've got a picture somewhere.

Find it.

I'll find it.

That's what I think Zoe is going for.

That's what her ambition is.

She wants me to sell bridles for her at Olympia.

And she wants slightly unhinged men to write her poetry that she can just rub off.

Slightly.

But we never heard her.

It might have been a masterpiece.

How would we know?

And while she was too short at five foot six to make it on the hook tour runway scene,

tell that to Kate Moss.

She's five four and from Croydon.

She's five four.

Yes, she's tiny.

More reason that like she was such a huge deal, obviously, before the Coke, because she

was tiny.

And she was the first model to like super duper make it who wasn't massively tall.

See, I have a bit of a, I don't really have much of a chip on my shoulder about my height.

But this weekend, I was doing some calculations.

And I now do have a chip on my shoulder about my height because apparently, if you take

an obviously, this is very like she's five six, sorry Kate Moss is five six.

Fair enough.

This is obviously very generally speaking, but typically if you take the parents of a child,

you can work out on average, obviously there are anomalies, the height that the children

are going to be.

Right.

And I worked it out and I should be taller.

Yeah, but your mum did sniff a lot of petrol.

Yeah.

And electric, you have that much of a crack in your hand.

I'm outraged.

I've been short-changed at least two inches.

Short-changed.

At least two inches.

I worked it out.

Do you know how you work it out?

You add that height plus mum's height.

And then if it's a girl, you minus five inches and then divide it by two.

If it's a boy, you add the heights together, you add five inches and divide it by two.

And that's the height that your children will be.

And I was like, I should be five four and I'm not outraged.

You can have a few of my inches.

I don't need them.

Please.

Anyway, let's get back to this.

Chloe was five six just like Kate Moss and she also had other assets.

She had gorgeous long blonde hair, pretty smile, curvy figure.

She was practically built for your dad's favourite bit of his morning routine.

Page three.

Wasn't it wild when we as a country had page three and nobody really saw a problem with it?

This is what I was thinking.

I feel like that's definitely yes.

But then I'm like, it's way worse the ship we have now.

And we all like pretend that's okay.

What the pedophiles?

The pedophiles.

And like only fans.

And like that's just there.

But that wasn't for sale at the news agent.

But it's like for sale like on this phone everyone has.

Do you not think I was thinking the same thing?

I was like, page three for our non-NUK listeners.

Let me just explain in case they are wondering what the fuck we're talking about.

Starting in the 1970s,

Page three was a thing where national tabloids, like the sun and the daily mirror,

feature top-plus female models on, you guessed it, the third page,

with a cheeky little teaser on the front cover.

And it was definitely in the UK like a cultural phenomenon.

Everyone in this country who is above the age of,

I don't even know how older people now, above the age of 20,

knows what page three is.

I think it might be more than that.

I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

Okay, let's just keep going.

Look, I no longer celebrate the passage of time.

I think it's on cheek.

Sure.

So just meet me where I am.

So okay, I can tell you when it was scrapped.

It was scrapped in 2019.

So yes, 25.

Okay.

So yeah, it was scrapped in 2019.

And yes, I think there is definitely a thing when it was scrapped of like,

oh my god, I can't believe we allowed that to happen.

And I get it because it was literally just like,

you'd go get petrol and there'd just be like,

I think that's the difference for me.

Like, only fans is consumed in the privacy of your own heart.

Sure.

Whereas page three was like, in your face, you know,

you can go anywhere.

No, you're right.

It couldn't.

And you'd often see it where there'd be like, in the stands outside

and like somebody would have ripped a couple of the pages

and then there's just like a pair of tips

that everybody's looking at.

But you know, harmless, probably now given all the hardcore pornography

that children are considering.

So yes, this is where Chloe got her.

Chloe got her first big break two years before it was scrapped.

So in 2017, this was Chloe's first ever professional gig.

And that was no mean feat.

According to her agent Phil Green, part-time DJ,

in the glamour modeling world, being a page three girl

was like being on the cover of Vogue,

except during page three of the Sun,

and like men who have got like saucer draw grease on their hands.

Oh no.

That's what's happening in my head.

I also like, I can only think of Phil Green as the top-top guy.

Oh.

So she's got budget Phil Green.

I'll see.

In my mind, he's Phil from Phil and Gerstie,

which like Paul Phil.

Anyway.

So admittedly, the reporting in page three in these newspapers

wasn't quite as chic as Vogue.

Reporting.

Yeah.

In big, big air quotes.

But Chloe's first shoot did have this charming little write-up.

Curvy Chloe is making her page three day view today

and what a frilly thriller she is.

The 19 year old Sari Sweetie is studying to be a lawyer,

but has always had a secret yearning

to appear in briefs in your favourite paper.

It's not bad copy.

It's pretty good.

Frilly thriller.

That's how good.

Now you might be cringing.

We're not.

We are actually quite appreciated that.

And Chloe certainly did because for her,

this was a stepping stone to the fortune and fame

that she had been dreaming of.

Chloe actually went on to do several page three shoots

and rapidly became one of Phil's most requested models,

which opened the door to more well-paying gigs,

earning her up to £600 a day.

At just 19 years old,

Chloe was flying high.

But she wanted more.

So, when a request came through her agency

for a solo glamour shoot in Paris in April 2017,

Chloe leapt at the chance.

The gig involved modeling custom-sized motorcycle leathers

and the photographer,

an Italian guy called Andre Lazio,

had asked for Chloe specifically.

After not top-shop Phil Green did his usual checks,

which was a quick Google search.

And said everything seemed legit.

Chloe was excited to explore a new city

and finally see the Eiffel Tower.

Achbu apparently was voted the most disappointing

tourist attraction in the world.

Yeah, well those Japanese businessmen all get Paris syndrome

because it's so disappointing, don't they?

They sure are.

The fact that all her expenses would be paid for

with a hotel stay before the morning shoot,

that was just the cherry on top of the Quassal.

But Chloe's trip was interrupted when chaos hit

the city of Le Moul.

A policeman was shot on the Champs-Elysées

in a terror attack,

so Metro stations were shut,

and there was a heavy police presence everywhere.

Advised to wait at all out in her hotel,

Chloe didn't feel particularly freaked out.

In those days she felt invincible,

like nothing bad could ever touch her.

Still, fate had a spanner in the works for Chloe.

The next morning she got a call to say

that the shoot had actually been called off.

The studio had been raided

in the fallout of the terrorist instant,

so instead of her and makeup,

Chloe was being bundled straight to the airport.

After a hiccup with her prepaid taxi,

the photographer Andre,

a skinny guy in sporty sunglasses,

came to her rescue and covered the fare.

They chatted for a few minutes,

and Andre said that he hoped

they would be able to reschedule the shoot.

Paris not working out was a bit of a bummer,

but Chloe wasn't the sort of girl to wallow.

Instead, she turned it to her advantage,

notching up a few tabloid column inches

back in the UK with her account

of being caught up in a terror attack.

Cut to a few months later,

when another email pinged into Phil Green's inbox,

the leather shoot was back on,

and this time it was going to be

a Andre's new studio premises in Milan.

While Chloe was buzzing,

her mumbiata was a bit less enthusiastic.

She didn't trust Phil,

and she couldn't shake the feeling

that something was wrong.

She begged Chloe not to go to Italy,

but, with stars in her eyes,

Chloe went anyway.

Just like in Paris,

she was put up in a swanky hotel

and the shoot was booked for the next day.

Everything seemed totally familiar and above board,

until the morning of Wednesday 12th of July,

when everything changed.

And what we've got for you now

is Chloe's account of what happened next.

After a quick breakfast at the hotel,

Chloe got a taxi to the address

that she'd been given,

confused about which building to go into,

she rang the number on Andre's emails

and asked for directions.

A guy calling himself Daniel answered,

telling Chloe to head inside and wait for Andre.

As Chloe made her way in,

something felt a bit off.

Photo studios are usually noisy

in full of movement,

but this place was dead silent.

Spotting a handwritten sign

that just said the word studio,

Chloe approached the next door.

And then, a gloved hand

suddenly clamped over her nose and mouth.

Chloe couldn't breathe.

She kicked and struggled,

but then another man appeared in front of her,

clad in a black ski mask

and holding a syringe.

She watched the needle sink into her wrist,

and then everything went black.

The next thing Chloe knew,

she felt like she was underwater.

Her mouth was taped,

and her hands were cuffed.

She groggily realized

that she was enclosed in something,

rubbery and thick.

Chloe heard a foreign language radio blaring,

and that's when it hit her.

She was bundled up inside a bag

in the boot of a moving car.

Dressed in only the pink velvet bodysuit

that she put on under her clothes that morning,

Chloe was sweating so much

that the tape slipped from her mouth easily.

She started shouting as loud as she could

hoping to get the attention of the driver,

in case they didn't know she was in there.

And then, the car stopped.

Two men in ski masks,

unzip to the bag,

and stared down at Chloe

before pouring sparkling water in her mouth.

Chloe didn't know what they wanted,

but she realized they were trying to keep her alive.

Bizarre, at one point,

one of the men removed his mask

and got into the boot with her,

almost spooning her.

Chloe desperately tried to ask him

where they were going and who the driver was,

but he simply told her in broken English

that he didn't know.

This guy was strangely gentle with her,

pulling up her top to cover her modesty

and calling for the driver to stop

so they could undo her cuffs for the rest of the journey.

Finally, after several hours,

the car slowed to a stop for a final time.

The unmasked man ordered Chloe

to climb back into the bag

or be drugged again.

Paralyzed with fear,

Chloe complied

and let them carry her into a house.

It was dank and cold.

The shutters were down,

so Chloe had no idea where she was.

She was led up a set of concrete steps

to an upstairs room

with a sleeping bag on the floor

and cuffed by her wrists and ankles

to a wooden chest of drawers.

Chloe laid on the sleeping bag

for what felt like hours.

She heard male voices arguing downstairs

and the sound of a door slamming.

And then a man walked in

who Chloe didn't recognize at first.

He told her,

I don't know if you remember,

but we briefly met in Paris.

And then it dawned on Chloe,

who was Andre, the photographer.

Smirking, he said his name was actually MD.

And he definitely wasn't a photographer.

None of them ever are.

Don't trust them.

He sat on the bed

and started telling Chloe,

what had apparently gone down?

And buckle up everyone

because this is going to be a wild fucking ride.

I do often wonder, often is strong.

I have previously had this thought.

What happened to the page three photographers?

Where did they go?

Paparazzi.

Yeah.

Yeah, you're right.

They all became part-time DJs probably.

Anyway, the mysterious MD told Chloe

that he was a high-ranking operative

of an Eastern European Mafia organization

called Black Death Group.

Yeah.

If they tell you, no, they aren't.

And look, the problems start immediately, right?

Now, who is to blame for the problems we're going to come to later?

But we're going to stick with the story for now.

What I would say at this point is,

if I had been abducted by a bunch of men

and they start taking their masks off,

I'm like, I'm dead.

Yep.

I'm dead.

No one takes their mask off

if they're not going to kill you later,

unless something weird is going on,

which we'll get back to,

unless it didn't happen.

Or they're nuts.

So many questions.

Let's continue.

So, Black Death Group operated through the Deep Web,

which is even worse,

even shadier than the Dark Web.

And they were involved in all sorts of horrible stuff,

drugs, arms deals, assassinations,

and obviously sex trafficking look classic.

And Chloe listened in horror

as MD casually explained

that the group would routinely sell kidnapped girls

between 14 and 20 years old.

Virgins sold for the most,

and most of the buyers were wealthy,

Saudi Arabians.

Yeah.

So basically, it's the plot of taken.

So it would appear, yes.

I'm just saying this doesn't happen.

No, no.

That's what it absolutely does fucking happen.

I just find it odd that you would kidnap somebody,

take your mask off,

and then bond villain style

explain to them your entire business.

Yeah.

I don't know why.

Including age range of girls you traffic.

Just a little flip chart,

a pointer.

I don't know.

I don't know why this is happening.

Here is my passport.

This is my mum's maiden name.

Anyway, once these girls were sold,

the Black Death Group would pass

these girls around as sex slaves,

until inevitably the men who bought them

got bored of her.

At which point,

the girl would most likely be fed to their pet tigers?

Yeah.

That's not us making a joke.

That's what Chloe says MD told her.

Right.

But then MD revealed

that there had actually been a bit of a cock-up

with Chloe's abduction.

He grumbled that the stupid Romanians,

the two goons who had brought her to this house,

had misunderstood his instruction

that Chloe must not be taken

with Chloe must be taken.

And so they took her.

It's always someone's first day.

Now, according to MD,

the Black Death had a rule

that mothers shouldn't be trafficked.

But before you go thinking

this is some sort of nice

code of ethics situation,

it was actually just because

having a baby quite significantly

devalues the worth of a sex slave

on the Black Market.

That, I believe.

Yes.

So Chloe said was absolutely spinning

as she tried to process

everything she was hearing.

If it was all just a mistake,

then surely she could just go home.

Right?

Well, no,

because they've told you

their entire business

and their entire criminal organisation

and they've taken their masks off.

But there was a bigger problem

because MD told her

wasn't going to be that simple.

Chloe had already been advertised.

She was officially up for sale.

And what MD showed Chloe next

was complete nightmare fuel.

She had her own advert

on the Black Death Group site,

selling her like an old top on Vinted.

Wrapped in the Black Death Group Signature

Creepy Branding,

which is like,

Plague Doctor Clipper,

that someone's put together

on Microsoft Paint.

Yeah.

They really lean

into the Plague Doctor

as their logo of choice.

Again,

why are you showing her the advert?

Why is any of this happening?

Why are you advertising

your criminal enterprise

with a logo?

I mean,

you've got to stand out

in a busy people trafficking crowd.

They're putting it all on the deep web.

The Saudis are sat at home,

checking it out,

and they're like,

oh, yes, the Plague Doctor,

they do good girls.

Apparently.

And I know we're making light of this.

I genuinely believe

that this sort of horrible, horrible thing happens.

Of course it is.

It's not even a question.

It's just what's actually going on here.

Is the question.

The ad featured chilling photos

of Chloe lying unconscious

and drugged on the floor

along with her name,

age, and her measurements.

And right there,

in black and white,

the advert stated

that Chloe was up for sale

at a sex slavery auction

on Sunday,

with a starting bid of

$300,000 US dollars.

Chloe had just five days left

of freedom

before she was going to be sold

into sex slavery.

But then,

came a hint of hope

in the form of MD himself.

He claimed

that when he saw Chloe's advert,

he was furious

about the mess

and had personally stepped in

to handle it.

Now he told Chloe

while he didn't usually

deal with the girls himself

because that was

far beneath his pay grade.

In this case,

he was taking a stand.

With everything he said,

MD positioned himself

as Chloe's ally,

the one person

in the fearsome black

death group

who was willing to fight her corner.

And while he said

he wanted to facilitate her release,

he claimed

that it was sadly

already too late

to simply pull Chloe

from this auction.

Her advert had already

generated high interest

and they couldn't

risk upsetting

their very valuable clients.

The price had been set

and it had to be paid.

Luckily,

MD had a solution

up his creepy sleep.

He told Chloe

that if her people

could raise the starting

bit of $300,000,

he'd let her go.

Chloe's heart sank.

She knew there was no way

that her agent

or her family could afford

that kind of money.

So, at MD's urging,

she named the three

wealthiest bloke

she could think of

in her circle.

Her investment banker friend

called Rory McCarthy,

celebrity agent David Reed,

and Paul Baxendale Walker,

former porn star,

an owner of Loaded magazine.

It was a desperate stat

in the dark,

but it was all Chloe had.

MD told Chloe

that he would pass these names

onto her agent, Phil Green,

with the hope

of getting the ball rolling

on or raising that money.

All there was left to do

was wait.

Now, while all

this is going down,

back in the UK,

Chloe was due

to land at Gatwick

on Wednesday night.

But of course,

she never arrived.

Her frantic mum

called Phil Green,

Chloe's agent,

who didn't take it that

seriously at first.

Shrugging that maybe

Chloe's phone had died

and maybe there

just been a delay

with her flight.

And in that single interaction,

I think I honestly

understand why Chloe's mum

wasn't Phil's

biggest fan.

Like Chloe's gone off

on her own.

She's still very young.

She's only 19.

She's gone off on her own

to a solo shoot

in a different country.

And he's just like,

Meh?

Don't know.

But the next morning,

things took a terrifying turn.

Phil got an email

from MD.

There was absolutely

riddled with typos,

but had a crystal

clear message.

Chloe was being held

for ransom.

Phil panicked

and got the police involved,

who took over his

computer and communicated

with MD from then on,

pretending to be Phil,

part-time DJ,

part-time agent,

full-time creep.

Meanwhile,

the Italian police

investigation kicked off

in Milan,

with the coolest

sounding crime-fighting

duo ever.

Serena Ferrari.

That's a great name.

And

Gianluca Simon Tacci.

It's okay.

So Serena Ferrari

and Gianluca Simon Tacci

were the lead investigators

on the Chloe case.

And their search

yielded immediate red flags.

At the building

where Chloe was dropped off,

they found her phone shoes

and clothes.

To no surprise,

a few basic inquiries

revealed that it wasn't

a legitimate photo studio,

at all.

Following the paper trail

from the building rental,

they discovered that the phone

number had been registered

with a Polish passport

in the name of Daniel Zawada.

But after checking

with Polish authorities,

it quickly became clear

that the idea was fake.

So the police,

no matter how good their names,

had no leads as to

where Chloe was

and time was running out.

That auction approach

is...

Yeah.

Now in captivity,

MD finally got a reply

from Phil

to his ransom email.

All it said?

Received.

It was a gut punch

for Chloe, who felt like Phil

clearly didn't give a shit about her.

Even MD was shocked

by what he perceived

as a lack of urgency

from Phil the agent.

So we fired off

multiple follow-up emails

demanding more cash.

As she counted down

to when she would be auctioned off,

Chloe could only pray

that somehow her camp

would scramble up the funds

before it was too late.

And while they waited,

MD seemed happy

to keep Chloe entertained.

So he doesn't just leave her

in this room

and go about his

nefarious black death business

because, remember,

he's a very high-up

member of this criminal organisation.

He just hangs out with her.

In this farmhouse,

he's got her locked up in.

He would spin endless yarns

about his exploits

in the notorious black death group.

He even boasted

about his extensive

military training

and claimed

that he'd risen

to become a level 12 operative

out of 20,

giving him special status.

MD also told Chloe

that he was an assassin

who had killed thousands

of people delivering his news

as casually

as if he was describing

a video game.

Thousands.

Thousands.

You don't do much.

And as he left a plate

of food by Chloe's head,

he let her into another little secret.

His method of choice

was poison.

Lame.

If you're going to choose,

obviously,

actually, what would you do?

If I was going to be an assassin,

if you were going to be an assassin,

what would be your calling card?

Mm-hmm.

I try to probably pick poison.

Poisoned up.

That's a good one.

But then everybody can see the dart

and they know.

Yeah, I want them to know.

Oh, you want them to know

I want them to know that it was me.

A big red fluffy feather.

A big red.

It's a big red.

So yeah, well,

Chloe's listening to all this.

She's thinking that it's a weird combination right.

It feels like MD is simultaneously trying to scare her,

but also trying to impress her.

But,

according to Chloe,

no matter how afraid she was,

she never once let it show on her face.

Even MD was surprised by how stoic she was,

remarking that she was handling it better

than the other girls

who would scream and tearfully beg for mercy.

Because if there is one thing

that Chloe ailing is not,

it's a crybaby.

Ever since she was a kid,

she hated showing emotions in front of people

and she definitely wasn't about to start now.

So,

throughout her entire ordeal,

Chloe remained calm, cool and placid.

And while that composure may well have held

the key to her survival in that tiny room,

back in the real world,

it might just prove to be Chloe's undoing.

As the hours blurred into days,

MD's treatment of Chloe

began to gradually shift.

He started by loosening the physical restraints,

undoing her handcuffs

and letting her move around more freely upstairs.

Still,

he always was sure to remind her

that there was no point trying to run

because they were in a remote location in Germany

and if Chloe escaped,

then the other black death

operatives in the area would kill her on sight.

He reminded her

that no police knew she was there

and that there was nowhere to run.

But the truth was,

making a break for it

didn't even cross Chloe's mind.

In her eyes,

MD wasn't just her Jailer.

He also held the key to her freedom.

And as far as kidnappers go,

MD was almost genuine.

But the truth was,

making a break for it

didn't even cross Chloe's mind.

She was almost gentlemanly.

He let Chloe take showers

and use the bathroom on her own

and gave her a fresh set of clothes.

He treated her

with a level of respect

that felt deliberate,

often reminding her

that the Romanians

wouldn't treat her in the same way.

If she'd been a bitch

and kicked off,

MD claimed that he would have

let them shove her

in the barn outside,

like they normally did with the other girls.

MD made Chloe feel

like she had a special level of protection

and as rough as it all was,

it could have been a hell

of a lot worse if he wasn't there.

And so, slowly,

an uneasy sort of trust

began to form between the pair.

MD trusted that Chloe

wouldn't run or raise the alarm,

and in return,

Chloe trusted that MD

wouldn't hurt her.

So, when he asked

if she wanted to swap

the sleeping bag

for the bed beside him,

Chloe accepted.

From the second night of her captivity,

they slept side by side,

under separate blankets.

And after a few days,

Chloe clocked something else

about her captor.

MD didn't just see her

as a hostage anymore.

He liked her.

He really liked her.

MD told Chloe she was beautiful,

and once even leaned in for a kiss.

Chloe instinctively

was spoiled,

but she didn't scream or get angry.

She says that she knew

outright rejection

could tip the balance

in a very bad way for her.

Instead, Chloe stalled

and said she just wasn't in the right headspace.

But after she was released,

she'd be more open to seeing

where things went.

MD apparently lit up at this.

Chloe had given him hope

that after this was all over,

he might just have bagged himself

a glamour model girlfriend.

A fanfiction?

Yeah.

And at that moment,

for Chloe,

everything shifted on its axis.

Suddenly, this wasn't just a kidnapping.

It was a love story.

Romeo had found his Juliet,

well, at least in his

delusional mind.

As for Chloe,

she suddenly realised

that if she ever wanted

to see her mum and her son

ever again,

she would need to keep

MD's twisted fantasy alive.

It was a decision

that would get her

a lot of flak down the line.

But Chloe has always maintained

that she wouldn't change

a thing about what she did

in captivity

because it had worked.

Back in the UK,

the days stretched on

with fading hopes.

By Saturday morning,

the ransom negotiations

had stalled completely.

An awful filigree

and could offer was

a measly 20,000 quid.

And that had been

put in by Chloe's wealthy

bankermate rory.

After submitting the offer,

they were met with radio silence.

The day of reckoning

loomed closer.

Dread set in.

And around 3am on Sunday,

another email landed

from MD with just three short words.

She's gone.

Mate.

Officers feared that they had

completely fumbled the bag

on this tricky case.

Had Chloe been sold?

Or worse?

Was she already dead?

They had no idea

that in that ramshackle house,

Chloe was still very much alive.

And she could almost

taste her freedom.

With big old fluttery heart eyes,

MD told Chloe

that he had a new plan

to get her out.

He said he would deal

with his superiors

in the Black Death Group,

selling several of his own properties

worldwide and paying

a substantial sum

in exchange for Chloe's freedom.

The only snag?

Chloe would have to

stump up $50,000 herself,

to be paid within a month

of being back in the UK.

Now to our South Sideers,

that sounds insanely suspicious.

What kind of kidnapper

just lets their hostage go

with some sort of IOU note?

One that doesn't exist.

But Chloe was so desperate

at this point

that she says she just

didn't question anything.

Ever helpful,

MD even had an ingenious suggestion

for how she could raise the money.

He reckoned

that the story

of Chloe's impossible

kidnapped would give her

tons of exposure

in the form of modeling gigs

and showbiz work

that could comfortably

cover her debt.

Mental?

Absolutely.

Compelling?

To Chloe's exhausted brain?

Yeah.

So she accepted the terms

and committed herself fully

to MD's utterly bonkers plan.

According to MD,

the last thing they needed

was a release letter

from his superiors

in the Black Death Group

laying out the terms

of Chloe's release,

because if there's one thing

that large-scale

mafia-like organisations

love,

it's paperwork.

Madfrap.

A very meticulous paper trail

of what they're doing here.

Gotta get the admin right.

So,

while they waited for it

to land in his inbox,

MD said that he'd take Chloe

to the local village

shop to buy pair of shoes.

On Sunday morning,

Chloe took her first

faltering steps

outside the ramshackle farmhouse

where she'd been

cooped up for almost a week,

and froze.

Stretched out

before her,

where the Italian Alps,

a view so perfect,

could have been

a desktop background.

Under different circumstances,

she'd have been blown away.

That's when MD admitted

that he had told her

a teensy little white lie,

they weren't in Germany.

They'd never left it to thee.

But he did drive

down to the village anyway,

and MD told Chloe

that she had to act

like his girlfriend.

He warned that the

Black Death Agents

were watching their

every move,

and they would kill her

if she caused a scene.

It was a surreal

experience for Chloe

as they stroll through

the village,

like an ordinary pair

of young lovers.

Feeling the sun on her skin,

trying on trainers,

eating fresh fruit

from a market stall,

none of it seemed real.

Chloe said that she felt

hypnotised,

like a machine being

controlled.

The only thing

she could focus on

was complying

with MD's commands,

and playing her role

perfectly.

After returning to the house,

the long-awaited,

release letter

finally came through,

and it gave the go-ahead

for Chloe to be set free.

But, like MD had warned,

there were a hell of a lot

of teasing-sees.

Chloe had to pay

50k in Bitcoin

within a month

of being let go,

which she would finance

through media exposure

and selling her

survival story.

She was also expected

to promote the Black

Death Group

in her tell-all interviews,

which, like,

why?

Why, as like a

secret mafia organisation,

would you want somebody

to promote your group?

I don't know what that

even means,

but, you know,

I haven't read the

paperwork.

And if that's not

confusing enough,

things only get worse.

The number one rule

was that Chloe

must not, under any

circumstances,

involve police.

Think about that

for a second.

How was she supposed to

go around telling

everybody what had happened

to her this tragic

audio she needs,

the story she needs

like to get the headlines

about being a survivor

of a sex-trafficking ring.

But, she's also

not allowed to

have any sort of

legal investigation

take place.

But, Chloe didn't

have time to worry about

the logistics.

This was it.

In the early hours

of Monday the 17th

of July, six days

after she was first

snatched from the

empty warehouse,

Chloe Aaling was

on her way back to Milan.

During a long car ride

from the countryside,

MD explained

what needed to happen

next.

He would drop her off

a 20-minute walk

away from the British

consulate.

She was going to go in,

identify herself as

Chloe Aaling,

the kidnap model,

and say that she had

called a friend

who had kindly

brought her to Milan.

But, not stuck around

to come into the consulate

with her.

Couldn't even be asked

to walk her to the door

of the British consulate.

Yeah, I'll come pick you up,

but I really have

got a hell of a day.

I'll drop you off

about 20-minute walk

away. Is that all right?

You got these new

trainers.

Chloe was not

to say, then,

he was a captain.

In this version,

he was just a good

Samaritan.

But then things

all went a little bit

pear-shaped.

The journey

went a lot quicker

than MD expected.

So they arrived in Milan

at half-seven,

a whole two hours

before the consulate

opened.

MD got jittery,

not wanting to leave

Chloe unsupervised for so

long.

So he took her for breakfast

and then walked her

to the consulate himself,

and he went in with her.

Together, they passed

various layers of security,

including armed guards,

until Chloe reached the

desk and declared

who she was.

Missing model Chloe Aaling,

had been found.

And the consulate

knew exactly who Chloe was.

She was a high priority

interpol missing

persons case.

But they played it cool,

and asked Chloe to come

to be interviewed

in a private room,

alone.

This rattled MD,

who insisted on coming

with her,

but was, of course,

denied.

Inside, a little

room with the consulate

staff,

Chloe could see MD

staring at her

through the glass door,

and she felt herself

sweating.

Now, at first,

Chloe stuck to the

story that MD

was just a friend who

would help her.

But then, Chloe says,

she suddenly thought,

fuck it,

and told them everything.

The next thing she knew,

MD was being arrested

by police and led away.

Her six-day ordeal

was finally over.

But, now,

a whole new nightmare

was about to begin.

At the police station,

Chloe was grilled

for over 15 hours

by Ferrari and Simon Tachy.

Chloe says that this was

actually the most

terrifying part of the

whole thing,

because while she was

technically free,

in her head,

she still felt like a

prisoner.

The Black Death

agents were still out there.

At any moment,

they could find out she'd

spoken to the police

and broken their

golden rule.

Without MD,

she had no one to

protect her from them.

Chloe felt like

she'd signed her own

death warrant.

And then,

came a huge curve

for that Chloe

had never even considered.

The possibility

that not everyone

might believe her.

Because, you see,

Chloe had left out

a pretty important detail

in her police interviews.

She didn't mention

the trip into the village

to buy shoes with MD.

And now,

the stony face prosecutor

wanted to know

why she'd lied about it.

Because, remember,

she's being held captive,

he takes her down

to buy trainers,

he takes her back to

the farmhouse,

and they wait for

the release letter

to come from, you know,

head office.

And then,

he brings her to the

consulate.

So that is a separate

trip that she doesn't

tell the police about.

But investigators had found

the CCTV of the pair

of them in the village,

and they'd also

spoken to the lady

from the hiking shop

where they had bought

the trainers,

who said that they

just seemed like a

normal couple.

Chloe says,

she didn't mention this

trip at the time,

because she'd already

been held for hours

and questioned again

and again by this point.

And she said she knew

it would trigger

a lot more difficult

questions that she

just didn't have the

energy for,

she just wanted to go home.

But the police were

asking her,

why hadn't she

run?

How could she explain

how cozy they look

together?

Deep down,

Chloe probably sensed

that if she had told them

about this particular trip,

it probably

would have made her

story seem even

flimsier.

And she was right.

Her emission

cast a giant

black cloud over her

entire account,

with the prosecutor

even asking her,

how can we

believe anything you say?

It hit Chloe

like a ton of breaks.

She hadn't even

thought about the

possibility of people

not trusting her version

of events.

And now a single

pair of trainers threatened

to destroy everything.

Chloe was forced to stay

in Milan for over a week

while the investigation

continued.

She was moved to a safe

house, a woman's

refuge hostel

with grim conditions

that made her feel even

more like a prisoner,

even though

officially she was

classified as a victim.

And even after a

kind woman from the

British consulate took

her under her wing

and helped her find

a secure apartment,

Chloe was constantly

on edge.

She was convinced

that black death was

still out there,

and could strike

at any moment.

All she wanted

was to go home.

But first,

she would have to return

to the scene of her

captivity.

The police took Chloe

back to the farmhouse,

a dilapidated old

place in the tiny hamlet

of view near to her

inn, and they

asked her to show

them where everything

had happened.

True to form,

Chloe stayed calm

and collected,

but her body language

gave away how

shaken she was to be

back there.

Chloe recalled every single

detail of the house,

with impressive accuracy.

It all checked out.

And that was the

turning point for the

Italian authorities.

Finally, they felt

confident that Chloe was

telling the truth.

But there was one last

hurdle before Chloe

could go home.

She bravely spoke

at a pre-trial hearing

for MD on the 4th

of August,

where the judge praised her

testimony as extremely

precise, specific,

and detailed.

This pre-trial hearing

is where Chloe began to

realise for the first time

that maybe things

weren't quite what they

seemed.

She had always seen MD

as her saviour,

the guy who had stepped

in after her bungled

abduction,

and fought to free her

at great personal

cost.

But now in court,

she heard a very

different story.

Chloe learnt that the

photos of her

drugged at the sham

studio were taken

on MD's phone.

So, not quite the

dumb Romanians that had

done it.

And then slowly,

the sickening truth

fell into place.

MD was actually one

of the masked men

who were taken her.

He hadn't come to say

her.

He was the reason

she was in the house

of his place.

And there was one more

question Chloe was

finally about to learn

the answer to.

Who actually was

the mysterious MD?

Does out.

He was a Polish guy

called Lucas Herber.

A computer programmer

by trade.

He was 30 years old

and happened to live

near Birmingham.

So obviously,

the million-pound question

was, was he really

a notorious dark

web criminal?

And we will get to that

when we get to his

trial, but sure answer,

no.

No, he was not.

It looked as if he had

fabricated the whole black

death web of lies as a part

of some bizarre fantasy

in kidnapping Chloe.

The only other person

involved was his brother,

Michael, the unmasked guy

from the car.

For Chloe, this was a

mind-fuck of epic proportions.

She wasn't being hunted

by international criminals.

She wasn't, in some

sort of high stakes

mafia plot.

She could finally stop

looking over her shoulder.

Or at least that's

what she thought.

Because Chloe had a big

shitstorm coming her way.

Back in London,

Chloe didn't have time

to enjoy her reunion

with her loved ones.

She'd literally just stepped

off the plane

when the paparazzi

were already swarming

her mum's front lawn.

According to Chloe,

this is not what she wanted.

If it were up to her,

she'd have kept the

whole thing a secret.

Now that might be hard to

believe, since we know

that Chloe wanted to be

famous.

But it does make sense that

even someone who wants

fame may not want that

fame for the worst

trauma they had ever

endured.

According to her.

But ultimately, Chloe

didn't have much choice

in the matter.

The story had already

broken in Italy due to

their custom of sharing

high-profile case

information with the media.

So it was only a matter

of time before I hit the

UK press.

Peering out of the windows

of her mum's modest

semi, it looked like

that time was now.

So on the advice of her

banker friend,

Rory, Chloe decided to

give them what they

wanted, a statement

and some snaps,

in the hopes that they

would finally leave.

She stepped out into the

garden dressed in a

skimpy vest-top and

tiny shorts.

Her hair was

voluminous,

and she was

immaculately made up.

She looked every

inch the glamorous

page three girl,

and not what anyone

had expected from a

traumatised

kidnapped victim.

Chloe read out a

short statement where she

described the

terror of her

ordeal.

Her words were

powerful.

But her delivery

didn't quite match.

We've got it for you now.

I've been

through a terrifying

experience I

feared for my life,

and I'm

incredibly grateful to

the Italian

and the UK authorities

for all they have

done to secure my

safe release.

She sounded monotone,

flat and

unaffected, almost like

it was a rehearsed

script, which like,

if I was giving a

press conference,

I would practice.

I would absolutely

plan what I was

going to say,

and I think the way

she speaks,

and she uncomfortably

sort of laughs at

points.

This is what was

sort of like,

setting people on

edge of it.

And also like, as a

nation, if I had to

pick a type of

person that would not

be graciously received

by the British

public, it would be a

page three model.

Yeah.

After she finished

speaking, Chloe did

what Chloe does best.

She started posing.

She went for photos

treating the ad hoc

press conference like a

glamour shoot.

Chloe says that she was

just so relieved to be

home that she couldn't

help smiling.

But people's

bullshit detectors

were ringing.

And from that point on,

there was a massive

red flashing question mark

above Chloe Ailing

and her story.

The tabloids, as you can

imagine, were brutal

from the get-go.

Aggressively pushing the

narrative that Chloe was

a fraud and the whole thing

had just been a

publicity stunt.

Journalists even

tracked down her ex

a man named Connor Keys,

who only found

the flames further by

claiming that he

basically raised their

son single-handedly,

while Chloe, quote,

just loves the camera.

Chloe's career as a

glamour model was also

taken as evidence that

she must be

fame-obsessed,

vapid, and morally

bankrupt.

The general consensus

was basically,

of course,

she's not a real victim

because she gets her

tits out for cash.

We love that one.

Yeah.

And look, we'll talk

about theories at the

end.

But I think it's important

remember, she's 19

years old.

Yeah.

And she is at the centre

of a media-feeding

frenzy when this story

breaks.

Like, can you think of a

more exciting story

for the press to talk

about?

She handles it badly,

but she got fucking

part-time DJ Phil Green

in her corner, like,

yeah.

It's all just handled

so, so poorly.

I think it's also not

lost on you guys

listening.

It certainly isn't

lost on us.

The incredible level

of irony here,

that the very same

tabloids at a

booked Chloe,

four page three,

repeatedly,

were now launching a

vicious crusade

to drag her down.

They even dredged up

the CCTV footage

of her walking

with Herba in that

village,

and twisted it

into evidence

of this whole thing

being a hoax,

despite the fact

that Italian authorities

now completely

believed Chloe.

And, yeah.

There's a lot

of headlines,

but here's one actual

headline from the Daily

Star.

Kidnapped Page

Three Girl

made it all up.

They're just saying

that without any

evidence.

That's just their

theory that they're

printing as a headline.

Now, the times later

called out the

misogyny and classism

at play.

And Chloe herself

saw racons that she

would have been

believed had she been

like a teacher instead

of a Page Three

model.

So, cast in a role

she couldn't run

from.

Chloe found herself

as the villain

of the piece.

Chloe A-ling ain't no

quitter.

She decided to fight

back and try and take

control of the narrative,

dumping her old agent,

bargain-bun-filled green,

who she rightfully

blamed for not doing

adequate checks to

protect her.

Chloe joined forces

with flashy celebrity

agent Adrian Sington,

and decided that it was

time to tell her

side of the story.

And hey, if she could

capitalize on her

15 minutes of fame

however unfortunate

and make some money

in the process,

why not?

It's quite literally

the only way the game

is played.

As Adrian put it, she

could either become

the poster girl

for modern slavery,

or she could make

money.

And Chloe, unsurprisingly,

chose the latter.

She signed a 30K deal

with the mail on Sunday

for an exclusive

tell-all interview

before embarking on a

whistle-stop tour

of all the major

morning TV shows,

including a particularly

vicious grilling

by Pierce Morgan

on Good Morning Britain.

They did also come out

that you lied to the

police.

I brushed it off,

I didn't lie.

We did lie.

I brushed it off.

We didn't brush it

off, you lied.

I was tired.

I just said, I don't

know what the problem is.

Your idea of brushing

it off, you lied.

Well, the police still

believe me.

So I shouldn't,

a few random people.

My point is, it doesn't

help you.

I think we should be able

to judge you.

Well, if I was just a

30-year-old woman,

like not a model,

do you think people would

have the same opinion?

No, I don't think

if you're going to conduct

media interviews where you're

being paid money and

you're doing a book

of thousands of pounds

before there's even been a

trial.

I think we're perfectly

entitled to ask you

difficult questions.

Yeah, that's fine.

I can answer all of them.

Yeah.

So you're not being unfairly

judged.

No, I don't mind.

I can answer all of them.

You're sitting here

because you're promoting

yourself, right?

Yeah.

I think doing the rounds

of the TV shows like this,

if Chloe thought she was

going to win people over,

it absolutely blew up in her

face.

In fact, the more publicity

she did, the more

the narrative that she just

did this all for attention

and the story was fake.

And look, we just

listened to a clip there

of her on Good Morning

Britain.

That's pretty much the same

thing that happens again and

again.

She's very young still

and she's speaking very,

very quickly and without

much emotion.

And I think it's like,

it's unusual for us to see

people who are not media

trained in these circumstances.

I'd like, I'll be honest,

I don't mean this a shade

like often people you see

on social media, often

people you see going on

these sort of shows,

even if they're not

media trained are very

charismatic,

are very confident.

She just isn't those

things.

And I think that works

against her so significantly.

People are just like,

she kind of speaks in a

weird way.

She kind of presents herself

in a strange way.