Cold Open
Go on, Nylah, go on!
Chloe Ayling reached down, unhooked her beagle’s leash, and watched her romp through the park. It was a perfect London day in April 2017.
Then, her phone rang.
SFX: ringtone
It was her manager, Phil Green.
Chloe was one of his models. Phil founded his agency, creatively titled “Supermodel Agency,” in 1987. The goal was to get his girls into magazines, and eventually famous. Often, this involved…less savory gigs. Jelly wrestling. Fetish shoots. One of Phil’s preferred techniques was to take a new client to a public place like a grocery store and stage an “upskirt” photo.
Chloe’s friends and mother Beata didn’t like Phil. Chloe’s original life plan was to become a lawyer. But then she got pregnant at 17 and gave birth to her son, Ashton.
She had no regrets. Ashton was perfect. But, needing to pay the bills, and possessing long blonde hair and conventional good looks, Chloe turned to modeling just after she turned 19.
She was too short to be a fashion model, but there was plenty of other work available. Commercial modeling, like appearing at trade shows, auto races, or county fairs. Or “glamour” work. Like being a “Page 3” model, appearing topless in one of Britain’s tabloids
Chloe didn’t mind risqué gigs. She was offered a Page 3 spread shortly after joining Phil’s agency. It paid well, and sometimes she could travel—although she hated leaving Ashton and Beata.
Chloe, I have a great job lined up for you. In Paris. You have been specifically requested by the photographer.
Chloe was floored. She’d never been to Paris.
The photographer was an Italian named Andre Lazio. He was shooting an ad for motorcycle leathers. Chloe couldn’t say “yes” fast enough. A few weeks later, she took an early morning flight to Paris and spent the day sightseeing.
But that, night Chloe heard a commotion outside.
SFX: gunshots, French police/ambulance sirens
She called her mom, then Phil. Apparently, Islamic extremists shot and killed a police officer near the Champs Elysses. Phil told her to stay in the hotel. She went to bed and tried to put it out of her mind.
The next morning, Chloe got another call from Phil.
Andre’s studio was ransacked last night. The shoot is canceled.
Chloe was disappointed but understood. Andre sent a cab to take Chloe to the airport. But there was a hiccup. Chloe hadn’t brought money, expecting a daily stipend. So, Andre had to come to the airport himself to give her cash.
The Italian photographer was clean-shaven with short blonde hair.
I’m so sick of Paris, he told Chloe. I’m thinking of moving back to Italy.
With that, Chloe flew home. A month went by. She celebrated her 20th birthday. Then, she got another email from Phil.
Andre relocated to Italy, but he still wanted to do the motorcycle leather shoot, in a week—actually, the day before Chloe was heading to Ibiza to get some beach shots for her Instagram. She’d just combine the two trips.
Excited, she flew to Milan. The morning of her shoot, a taxi brought her to the address for the photography studio–really a warehouse.
Chloe approached the entrance…but it was locked
Strange. She called Andre’s number.
Hello?
Chloe didn’t recognize the voice.
Hi, who’s this?
Daniel.
Where’s Andre?
Andre doesn’t get here til 9, but I’m in the studio, so just come in.
“Daniel” told her to walk down the street to another building. Inside, all it was quiet and dark–which was also strange. Usually, modeling photoshoots are busy places with music pumping.
Hello?
Chloe felt a gloved hand cover her mouth and nose. She couldn’t breathe!
A second person appeared—a bearded man in a ski mask. The first man wrestled Chloe to the ground. The bearded man pulled up Chloe’s sleeve and took out a syringe. Chloe struggled with all her might, but he injected her. Soon she fell unconscious.
On this episode: glamour models, human trafficking, and the darkest parts of the dark web.
I’m Keith Korneluk and you’re listening to Modem Mischief.
You're listening to Modem Mischief. In this series we explore the darkest reaches of the internet. We'll take you into the minds of the world's most notorious hackers and the lives affected by them. We'll also show you places you won't find on Google and what goes on down there. This is the story of Chloe Ayling and Black Death.
Act One
65-year-old Steven Currence took one last sip of scotch to ease his nerves. He’d been expecting this guest but he still had no idea if he could trust him—what they were doing was highly illegal. They had been communicating online for months and this was their first in-person meeting.
Steven opened the door to a man in his 30’s.
Come on in. I’m, uh, Steven.
I’m Travis.
Basement’s this way.
Steven led Travis through the dumpy apartment. It had once been a rental property of Steven’s, but he’d sold his house and moved here after his wife’s suicide six years before. Travis noticed the many empty liquor bottles strewn about. As they passed Steven’s bedroom, he also noticed two sets of chains bolted into the floorboards.
They went downstairs to the basement.
It was unfinished, the bare concrete floors dominated by large wooden crosses with
leather restraints, on the walls hung whips and even more chains.
Well, this is my dungeon. I’m putting cages over there.
Impressive setup you’ve got here.
This is where I’ll keep the girls when I’m not around. Otherwise I’ll keep ‘em in my
bedroom—you saw the chains. Like I told you online, I’m not lookin’ for love. They’re
here to serve.
Sounds good. Bring the money to Phoenix like we agreed and you’ll have your girls.
Satisfied, Travis left.
A few weeks later, Steven made the 19-hour drive from his home in Billings, Montana to
Phoenix, Arizona, where he planned to purchase two women from the Malaysian
website CollarMe.com,. He brought two sets of custom shackles, 8 U-bolt clamps, and $10,000 in cash--$5,000 for each girl. He’s refinanced one of his remaining properties to pay for it.
When he arrived at the warehouse and went inside, he was greeted by several men in suits with badges.
Mr. Currence, I’m Special Agent Ryan Blay with the FBI. We’d like to talk to you.
Among the agents, Steven recognized Travis, who was wearing a Phoenix PD badge.
When Steven Currence was arrested in September 2015, about two years before Chloe Ayling was abducted, it was part of a larger sting operation to arrest people willing to buy women online.
The FBI received a tip from an American bondage site about a Malaysian website called CollarMe.com. CollarMe.com claimed to be auctioning off women to anyone around the world. The feds quickly determined that the site was a scam--it cost $600 just to enter the supposed auction, and the scammers never actually sold a woman.
But scam or not, people clearly wanted to enter these auctions. This discovery gave the FBI the idea to launch a sting operation to catch potential customers of online human trafficking.
The FBI set up an ad for a similar auction and received over 100 inquiries. Eventually they narrowed it down to four who were serious enough to show up with cash in hand. All were middle-aged American men like Steven.
This case was one of the first times the FBI arrested people for attempting to buy other people over the Internet—human trafficking.
On this show, we’ve covered various types of crime that happen on the dark web. The dark web is a collection of websites only accessible by Tor browsers, which obscure a user’s IP address. Tor was originally intended to help political dissidents access the web without government surveillance, but the dark web soon became a hive of scum and villainy.
In the early 2010’s, dark web marketplaces like the Silk Road, which we covered in episodes 1 & 2, and AlphaBay, which we covered in episode 13, rose and fell. Both sites primarily sold drugs, as well as guns, stolen credit cards, hacking tools, and fake IDs. But both sites drew the line at hitman services, child pornography, and human trafficking.
After the Silk Road and AlphaBay, more and more sites began popping up on the dark web, with even less scruples.
The dark web was and is a haven for drug dealers. It’s also a haven for child pornographers. The FBI and other law enforcement agencies have arrested many child pornographers on the dark web.
For example, in 2008, an Irish dark web user named Eric Eoin Marques created “Freedom Hosting,” a dark web site that hosted images and videos of prepubescent minors, violent sexual acts, and bestiality—including about 2 million not previously known to police.
But when it comes to murder for hire or human trafficking, things get murkier.
Do sites on the dark web offer hitman services? Definitely. A better question is, “Are those services actually available?”
In 2023, a Tennessee truck stop employee named Melody Sasser became enraged when her hiking buddy and possible love interest David Wallace moved to Mobile, Alabama and got engaged to another woman. She went on the dark web, found a site called “Online Killers Market,” created a user account named “CatTree” and ordered her romantic rival’s death.
Online Killers Market’s server was based in Europe. Soon, the FBI got a tip about what Melody tried to do and nabbed her. It’s unknown if Online Killers Market was a legitimate crime site, a scam, or even possibly a satire site.
Melody Sasser wasn’t an anomaly. Since the dark web has existed, various people have tried to hire assassins on it—but there’s never been any evidence that anyone has done so successfully.
Then there’s human trafficking—specifically, the supposed kidnapping of people and selling them into slavery via the dark web. Like we saw earlier with the CollarMe.com arrests in Phoenix, there’s clearly demand. Other, similar sites have existed and continued to exist.
But are criminal gangs actually abducting people and selling them online? By the summer of 2017, when Chloe was taken, most experts thought that dark web human trafficking was an urban legend.
Of course, that didn’t help Chloe’s situation.
Sfx: car driving
When Chloe woke up, she found herself trapped in blackness, handcuffed, and with duct tape around her mouth. She was still woozy from whatever the two masked men had injected her with.
As she felt around, she discovered she’d been crammed inside a black duffel bag. She didn’t know how long she’d been unconscious, or how far away from Milan they might be. She didn’t know if she’d been raped. Or what these two masked men wanted.
She could barely breathe. Feeling around in the dark, she discovered the bag’s zipper was partly open.
Sfx: zipper
She struggled to widen the opening and finally stuck her head through.
She could see that she was in the trunk of a car.
Still groggy from whatever they injected her with, she banged against the trunk.
Sfx: banging on metal
The car jerked to a stop. The trunk opened,
Sfx: trunk opening
Two masked men stood above her—one of whom had a beard.
The summer heat had made her lip sweaty, and the duct tape slipped off.
Where are we? What’s happening? Where am I? WHAT’S HAPPENING?
Neither men responded or spoke to each other. One replaced the tape, shoved Chloe’s head back into the bag, zipped it back up, and shut the trunk.
The car began moving again. But soon, the tape slipped back off and Chloe unzipped the bag’s zipper.
Sfx: zipper
Sfx: banging on metal
The car stopped again.
Sfx: trunk opening
This time, Chloe managed to slur out the word “Thirsty.”
One of the men carefully poured water into her mouth, then replaced the tape. He undid her handcuffs and re-cuffed her arms behind her back. Mercifully, they also allowed her to have her head and shoulders out of the bag.
Sfx: trunk shut
The men got back in the car and drove again.
Chloe realized that since she had been taken, the men had removed most of her clothes, including her jeans, jacket, shoes, and cap. All that was left was her pink bodysuit. Her hair was down, too.
Because of the heat, Chloe was still thirsty, and the new position made her arms ache. The sweaty tape came off again, but this time Chloe stayed quiet.
Maybe 30 minutes later, the car stopped once more.
Sfx: trunk opens
This time, one of the men carefully climbed inside the trunk and got in with her.
Sfx: trunk shuts.
Chloe could see that he’d taken off his ski mask, but she didn’t get a good look at him. The car started as he settled in, almost…spooning her.
Chloe kept her panic at bay.
What’s happening? Where am I?
You not get hurt. Don’t worry.
He spoke English with an accent. She couldn’t place it, but it wasn’t Italian.
She asked the man a series of questions: where were they going? Who was driving the car? Would she be let go? The man said he knew nothing.
Getting nowhere, Chloe began to cry.
Don’t cry. Nobody hurt you. Don’t cry.
Can you take off my handcuffs?
Sfx: banging on trunk
Sfx: trunk opens
I need keys.
Sfx: handcuffs unlocking.
They rode the rest of the way in silence. About 30 minutes later, the car arrived at its destination.
Sfx: car stops, trunk opens,
We have to put handcuffs back on you, or…
The man in the trunk made a syringe injection motion. Chloe put her hands behind her back.
Sfx: handcuffs locking, zipper
The man handcuffed Chloe again and put her back in the bag. She felt herself be picked up and carried uphill.
Sfx: key in lock, door opening
She was set on the floor.
Sfx: zipper
As her eyes adjusted to the light, she found herself in the kitchen of a rural farmhouse.
Two men were in the kitchen with her.
One of them wasn’t wearing his mask. He was clean shaven. She’d never seen him before.
The other man was still wearing his ski-mask. He was also clean shaven. Where was the man with the beard? What was going on?
Chloe didn’t know which of these two men had been in the trunk with her, which had been driving the car, which one had injected her, or even how many people were involved in this operation. Questions raced through her mind but she knew better than to ask.
I need the toilet
Sfx: handcuff unlock
The unmasked man led her to the bathroom. Her legs were so stiff she could barely walk. The bathroom had no door. No Mask stood guard as she used it. But if anything, he seemed kinder and more sympathetic than the masked man, who glared and never spoke.
He brought Chloe upstairs to a bedroom, through a doorway with beaded curtains.
Sfx: beaded curtains.
There was a bed, a dresser and a sleeping bag on the floor. He pointed at the sleeping bag, and Chloe sat on it. He handcuffed her hand to her ankle, threading it under the dresser and around its leg, pinning her in place.
I have to leave now for other job.
Please stay. Please.
The boss is coming.
He got up and left.
Sfx: beaded curtains.
Chloe waited. Was the masked man still here? Who was this boss? Would she make it out of this alive?
Some time later, she heard a muffled argument downstairs, but couldn’t make out what they’d said.
More time passed. She heard footsteps.
Sfx: beaded curtains.
Another man entered the room. He also wasn’t wearing a mask.
I don’t know if you remember, but I briefly met you in Paris.
Finally, Chloe placed him.
Andre the photographer.
He smiled. Yes. Only my name isn’t Andre, and I’m not a photographer.
The reality hit Chloe like a hammer: Paris, Milan…it was all a setup to kidnap her.
Those stupid Romanians weren’t meant to take you. They can’t understand English.
Chloe was stunned. Romanians? She wasn’t supposed to be taken?
Can I just go home?
The man smiled again, almost apologetic.
I’m afraid not. You’re up for auction.
Chloe’s heart nearly stopped. Would she get out of this alive? Would she see her mother and son again?
Act Two
You probably have questions, “Andre the photographer” continued. Yes, Paris was originally a setup to take you. I was coordinating, with two Romanians under me. The day before they were to take you, they showed me your Instagram. There was a photo of you with your son. And that’s against the rules. We don’t take mothers. So, I canceled the operation. Then I emailed the Romanians and told them you mustn’t be taken. But they mistook “mustn’t” for “must.”
That was it? A misunderstanding? It was almost absurd.
Then…why did you rebook me for Milan? Why did you tell me to go to the studio if I wasn’t to be taken? You sent so many emails.
I know nothing of these emails. The Romanians must have been using my Andre account.
This couldn’t be happening. It was all so insane.
Andre continued.
I was on holiday in Rome when I saw your advert and realized what was happening. I drove right here. I can’t tell you where you are, but we are no longer in Italy. We are in a remote place. There are no shops or people for miles.
Chloe knew he was trying to scare her. It was working.
The bosses in Berlin will decide what to do with you.
How many of you are there
Andre sighed.
I don’t know. Thousands. We are like the mafia, only bigger and entirely secret. We operate in every country in Europe. One of our operations is kidnapping women and selling them to wealthy Arabs. We are called “Black Death Group.”
Chloe had never heard of it before.
We are a 20 level mafia organization, he continued. Those Romanians were level ones. I am level 12. “Andre” is not my name. They call me “MD.”
So…what happens now, MD?
We can’t upset the clients. Your starting auction price is 300,000 pounds. That must be paid.
I’m not rich.
What about your manager, Philip Green?
Chloe paused. He knew about Phil? How much did they know about her?
He’s not rich either.
Think of three people who might be able to help. I will give you a moment.
MD left the room. Fifteen minutes later he returned and Chloe gave him the names: her close friend investment banker Rory McCarthy, talent agency CEO Dave Read, and Loaded magazine owner Paul Baxendale-Walker, for whom she had modeled.
Good. MD left to get Chloe a blanket. When he returned, he began to talk. He seemed to enjoy it.
Black Death Group is a criminal organization. It isn’t just trafficking. It’s drugs, assassinations, everything. All on the dark web. I’m an assassin. I kill people all the time. Poison. Less messy that way.
He almost seemed bored relaying this information.
You’re lucky you won’t end up like the other girls. Those Arab sheikhs do all kinds of horrible things to you, then when they get bored they feed you to their tigers.
Other girls? Arab sheikhs? Tigers? On and on it went.
Eventually, MD left and returned with a plate of food. Chloe was starving, but remembered what he said about poison. She didn’t eat.
Finally, it was dark. Chloe needed her energy for whatever lay ahead, so she shut her eyes and willed herself to sleep.
The next morning, Chloe’s manager Phil Green received the email in his London home. The email from the Black Death Group told Phil that Chloe was taken and was up for auction—unless Phil could raise the money to ransom her. Phil recognized the three names Chloe had given to her kidnapper.
He was stunned. He replied with one word: Received.
Phil called police in Milan and explained the situation. They seemed skeptical. Then he called the UK consulate in Milan. They were more receptive. Finally, he called the UK police. Soon, the East Midlands Special Operations Task Force turned Phil’s home into a command center.
The investigators weren’t quite sure what to make of the email. In it, the kidnapper referred to himself as a midlevel assassin for something he called “the Black Death Group.”
A quick Google search pointed to a supposed dark web criminal organization with a similar name: “Black Death.”
References to Black Death first appeared on Reddit in 2015, and Vice journalist Joseph Cox investigated.
At the top of the page, Cox found an illustration of 13 medieval doctors in birdlike plague masks. Black Death claimed to be a criminal organization whose presence on the dark web began in 2010.
On Black Death you could buy weapons, drugs, bombings, assassinations, new identities, and even something called “identity destruction,” which is where you hire a hacker to ruin someone’s reputation by, for example, planting child pornography on their computer.
But the most extreme service it provided were auctions where you could buy kidnapped women.
Cox contacted Black Death to see if it was legit. It quickly disappeared and moved to a new location on the dark web. The following year, Europol investigated the group and concluded that it was most likely yet another scam.
Yet here was a kidnapper claiming to represent Black Death—or “The Black Death Group” as he called it.
Did Black Death actually exist? Investigators didn’t know. They just had to get Chloe back. Meanwhile, Phil hoped he could get the money for her ransom.
At about the same time, Chloe woke up on the sleeping bag on the floor in the farmhouse. Her first thoughts were for her mother and son. Her second was that right now she would be in Ibiza taking bikini photos, if yesterday unfolded like she planned.
Sfx: beads clacking
Your manager replied to my email. All it said was “Received.”
That was it? Did Phil even care?
MD could see Chloe was losing hope.
It’s OK. My boss might let you go if your family pays whatever they can afford.
Not reassuring…but not nothing.
The day passed slowly. Chloe didn’t eat, although MD did give her water. That night, MD offered to let her share his bed in the next bedroom.
I’m not going to hurt you. There are rules. If I touch you, Black Death Group would kill me.
Chloe saw she didn’t have a choice, but she still believed he wouldn’t hurt her. As far as she knew, MD was the only one keeping her alive.
But as she settled into bed next to him, he turned over and whispered.
Remember, if you try to escape, I will have to kill you.
Finally, as MD drifted off to sleep, Chloe let herself cry.
The next morning was a Thursday. Chloe’s auction was Sunday. MD checked his email again. No word from Phil.
To pass the time, they played games. Hangman and Battleship. As they played, MD opened up more about his life.
MD used to be a soldier. Black Death recruited him and allowed him to start at Level 8 because of his military experience. Assassination paid well. MD said he was worth $15 million and owned 20 properties. He’d killed thousands of people.
Chloe could see that MD was trying to impress her. So she acted impressed. Internally she was furious, but she saw this as her best chance to survive.
MD confided that he wanted out. He hated that Black Death Group abducted women, because his mother was once kidnapped. But he’d have to give the Black Death Group all his properties and $1.5 million to do so.
But you could help me, he said. If we let you go, you must promote Black Death Group. Talk about it in interviews. Bring attention to the group. It would be an invaluable recruiting tool.
It seemed ludicrous, but Chloe agreed.
When Chloe woke up on Friday morning, Chloe felt weak. She hadn’t eaten since Tuesday.
As opened her eyes, she saw MD staring at her.
You’re so beautiful. May I kiss you?
Chloe felt a mixture of disgust and fury. But she also saw an opportunity.
Maybe. I can’t kiss you now, but maybe once I’m free. Once this is over, maybe we can see each other again.
The ploy worked. Now, MD was determined to do anything possible to convince Black Death Group to set her free.
As the day passed, Chloe spoke about her mother and son. Her goal was to humanize herself in MD’s eyes. The day came and went, with no reply from Phil.
The next morning, Saturday, the day before her auction, MD got a reply from Phil. One of the three people Chloe named in her email had come through with 20,000 pounds—far short of the 300,000. According to MD, his boss CK was furious.
For the first time, Chloe broke down and cried in front of her captor.
It’s OK. I won’t let them do anything to you.
As the hours passed, Chloe’s auction drew nearer. MD went out to check his email. When he returned, he had a letter from his Black Death boss, CK.
You are being released as a huge generosity from Black Death Group.
Chloe felt a surge of elation but tried not to show it. She read the letter. It warned her that she had to pay the remainder of her ransom in Bitcoin. She didn’t even know what Bitcoin was
When she finished reading, MD spoke
I’m going to take you back the day after tomorrow. The police are going to want to talk to you. The first thing you need to do is shut down any investigations. Tell the police to drop it. Remember: we know where you live, and where your mother and son live.
The next morning, Chloe woke up to moans. MD had an erection and was in pain because of it. He told her to take a shower while he “sorted himself out.”
When she was finished, MD took Chloe outside to his car. It was the first time she’d been outside since Tuesday. She noticed houses a few hundred yards away—apparently this farmhouse wasn’t as remote as MD claimed.
Twenty minutes later, MD and Chloe arrived at a town called Viu, a small village that mostly catered to skiers.
Chloe considered trying to reach out to someone and ask for help, but was too afraid of what MD would do to her—plus, she didn’t speak the language. As they walked through the village, MD took Chloe’s hand in his. She didn’t pull it away—anything to keep him happy.
MD bought her a pair of running shoes. Then they stopped at a small grocery store and bought fruit. Chloe devoured it.
MD brought her back to the farmhouse. It was the scene of her captivity, but now that she knew she was going home, it didn’t feel quite so oppressive.
When MD’s alarm buzzed at 4 a.m., Chloe was already awake and out of bed. Adrenaline coursed through her veins for all the long drive back to Milan.
The British consulate was a cluster of offices in a Milan office building. They approached a door guarded by two British soldiers. Chloe pressed the intercom button.
I need to speak in private.
Do you have an appointment?
No, it’s an emergency. I want to talk in private.
SFX: door buzzer.
Inside, there were two women behind the desk. They seemed to recognize her. One approached.
Hello. I’m Nicoletta. Are you Chloe
Chloe nodded.
Nicoletta looked at MD.
Who is that?
Chloe remembered all the threats MD had made to her safety, so she replied, He’s a friend.
I need to take you to a private room now.
MD stood up.
I’m coming with her.
You aren’t allowed.
MD could see there was no point in arguing.
OK. I’m going now.
No. Stop. We need you here.
The guards blocked his way. The consulate staffer brought Chloe into a private room.
We know who you are. We’ve called the police. You’re safe now.
But Chloe couldn’t relax. As far as she knew, Black Death was watching her every move. If she made one wrong step, they would kill her.
Act Three
About an hour later, Nicoletta guided Chloe through the Milan police station to an interview room, where two female detectives were sitting behind a desk. One stood and smiled.
I’m Serena Ferrari. This is my colleague Gianluca Simontacci.
Gianluca nodded. She was sitting behind a computer and typing everything said in the room.
We just want to ask you a few questions.
“A few questions” really meant a 15 hour interrogation. The detectives grilled Chloe on every detail of her ordeal, and she answered truthfully, even though she’d promised MD that she would shut down any police investigation. Even though telling the truth could cost Chloe her life. She just hoped that telling the truth would get her home faster.
Finally, at 1 am, the Italian prosecutor arrived.
I’ve interviewed witnesses to your kidnapping, including a woman who sold you shoes in the village of Viu. You never mentioned this?
So what? It’s one detail.
Why should I believe anything else you say?
Chloe was furious. But the prosecutor wouldn’t be the last to doubt her story.
When can I go home?
At the conclusion of our investigation, however long that takes. We’ll be keeping your passport until then.
Once again, Chloe was trapped.
Mercifully, the consulate arranged for Chloe to have a mobile phone. She wasn’t happy with her manager Phil Green—he’d sent her on this job, and he’d done nothing to vet the client besides Googling his address and asking for samples of previous work—but he was her lifeline
After Chloe filled him in on all that happened, Phil promised to do all he could to get her home. She hoped he meant it.
She called her mother Beata. While Beata was relieved to hear her daughter’s voice, she was also unsatisfied with Phil’s handling of the situation. After their first call, Phil hadn’t updated Beata on the investigation—not that the police were telling him anything. He’d also slept in while Chloe was missing.
Chloe was taken to a shelter for female crime victims. But still feeling exposed and in danger from Black Death, she called Phil and had him arrange for a hotel.
Finally, she felt somewhat safe. She ate real food for the first time in a week—pizza, naturally. Otherwise, she never left her hotel room unless she was needed for the investigation.
She wondered what was happening to MD, the man who had tried to protect her. He’d been beaten up in prison, she learned. She’d also seen his real name on police documents: Lukasz Herba. A Polish national. He’d never mentioned being Polish.
On Friday, four days after her return, the prosecutor told her she’d be going home, only to change his mind and say he’d need at least another week.
Chloe felt like she was going insane.
She got a lawyer, who sped things along. Finally, the prosecutor agreed to allow Chloe to go home, but only after she identified Lukasz in court, and revisited the scenes of her kidnapping so the detectives could record her testimony about her ordeal.
She didn’t want to face him, and the prosecutor agreed to allow her to testify from behind a screen.
On the day she was brought to court, she sat behind the screen as Lukasz was brought into the room. Chloe’s heart was pounding.
The proceeding began with Chloe identifying Lukasz as the man who held her captive. Then, she told her story—everything that Lukasz told her, that the Romanians abducted her by mistake, that he saw her ad online and came to her rescue.
Were you aware that Mr. Herba purchased two ski masks weeks before your abduction?
N…no.
And were you aware that this photo…
The judge displayed Chloe’s kidnapping photo, in which she was knocked out on ketamine.
Was taken on Mr. Herba’s phone?
The realization dawned on Chloe…Lukasz was involved in the kidnapping. Chloe had first seen Andre/Lukasz when he was clean shaven. Lukasz must have grown a beard after the Paris episode, kept it during the kidnapping, and quickly shaved it off before revealing his face to her.
All of which meant he lied. So what else had he lied about?
After her court appearance, the Italian detectives shared their theory of the case with Chloe.
Lukasz never served in the military. He lived in the UK, in Birmingham—and he’d told Chloe he’d never been to the UK, another lie. He worked as a delivery driver for DHL.
He wasn’t part of a vast underground criminal organization. He’d never killed anyone, or committed any violent crimes prior to this. In fact, police looked into Black Death, or “the Black Death Group” as Lukasz called it, and determined it didn’t exist.
But Chloe knew at least two men kidnapped her. Who else was involved?
Lukasz had a brother, Michal. Police believe he helped Lukasz plan and orchestrate the kidnapping, but eventually had a change of heart and fled to England. Police also believed it had been Michal who spooned Chloe in the trunk of the car.
Most likely, the plot all began when Lukasz, a lonely man prone to pathological lies, noticed one of Chloe’s tabloid photos and became obsessed with her. Most likely, he actually believed that he could make Chloe fall in love with him by kidnapping her and then pretending to save her.
Chloe felt sick to her stomach. Could this be true? Was her captor nothing more than a crazed fan? Was her life no longer in danger? Her mother was unconvinced and encouraged her to keep acting as if Black Death were real.
A few days later, Chloe reluctantly returned to the Milan warehouse where she was taken, then to the shoe store in Viu, and finally to the farmhouse. When they passed through the beaded curtain into the room where she’d been handcuffed to the dresser, she cringed.
Sfx: beaded curtain
She hoped it was the last time she’d ever hear it.
Now that Chloe had satisfied the prosecutor’s demands, her passport was released and it was time to go home.
But her ordeal wasn’t over.
After Chloe’s court appearance, the prosecutor gave a press conference announcing her kidnapping. This caused a media frenzy—like there always is when an attractive young white girl goes missing.
When Chloe returned home, dozens of reporters crowded her mother’s house. Her tearful reunion with Beata was brief. Chloe needed to make a statement to the reporters.
[What she said]
Then there was Phil. Before, he’d offered Beata radio silence. Now, he was calling nonstop with media requests and contracts to sign.
Chloe didn’t even want to talk to him. A friend introduced her to a press agent named Mark, who owned the Kruger Cowne agency. He was much more polished than Phil. Chloe signed a 12 month contract with him.
While she sat in Mark’s office, Phil called. She handed the phone to Mark.
Chloe won’t be working with you any more. It’s not necessary to contact her again.
That was the last she heard from Phil. Chloe decided to be selective with her media appearances, agreeing to an exclusive interview with the Mail on Sunday.
But this strategy backfired. Other outlets with nothing new to write about began speculating about Chloe’s case. Some began suggesting that she made the whole thing up as a publicity stunt to further her career. Among other things, they pointed to the fact that Chloe was seen holding hands with Lukasz in public.
Chloe was furious. She did what she had to do to survive. Who had any right to question her? Worst of all, the contract she signed with the Mail on Sunday forbade her from commenting until her interview.
She gave her interview to the Mail, who were sympathetic, but the speculation continued. So she gave a couple more, which were less sympathetic, including one in which Piers Morgan grilled her.
But deep down, Chloe didn’t really care whether the public believed her. She cared whether an Italian jury did. As the months went by, Lukasz Herba’s trial approached. Chloe hoped she’d get justice.
Act Four
Lukasz Herba went on trial in February 2018. Finally, his full story came out.
When Lukasz was first arrested, he told investigators he’d been forced to do the kidnapping by his Romanian neighbors. He also claimed he needed the ransom money to pay for leukemia treatments.
When both of these claims were proven false, Lukasz and his lawyers came up with another defense. Inspired by British tabloids, they claimed Chloe concocted the whole affair to further her modeling career.
The jury wasn’t buying it. Lukasz was sentenced to 16 years and nine months in prison. His brother Michal was later apprehended and also sentenced to 16 years. However, both brothers later had their sentences reduced on appeal.
Chloe did indeed become more famous after her ordeal, parlaying her kidnapping into a book deal and an upcoming BBC miniseries. She’s also appeared on Celebrity Big Brother and now works for an adult website.
Is Black Death real? In the end, we don’t know. It’s almost certain that the version Lukasz told Chloe about was fictional. It’s also likely that its original iteration, a dark web website that claimed to auction women, was a scam.
To date, it’s never been proven that anyone has been sold on the dark web.
But that’s because human traffickers don’t need to use the dark web—The regular web works just fine. According to the UN Office on Drugs and Crime, 40% of all human trafficking victims in the United States are recruited online. It’s just disguised as at-will sex work.
So, you don’t need to lurk on the dark web to find human traffickers; people are being trafficked all around you.
CREDITS
Thanks for listening to Modem Mischief. Don’t forget to hit the subscribe or follow button in your favorite podcast app so you don’t miss an episode. This show is an independent production and is wholly supported by you, our listeners and the best way to support the show is to share it. And another way to support us is on Patreon. Just go to patreon.com/modemmischief or click the link in the show notes. You can also support us through a paid subscription on Apple Podcasts. For as little as $5 a month you’ll receive an ad-free version of the show plus bonus episodes exclusive to subscribers. Modem Mischief is brought to you by Mad Dragon Productions and is created, produced and hosted by me: Keith Korneluk. This episode is written and researched by Jim Rowley. Edited, mixed and mastered by Greg Bernhard aka Black Death Breath. The theme song “You Are Digital” is composed by Computerbandit. Sources for this episode are available on our website at modemmischief.com. And don’t forget to follow us on social media at @modemmischief. Thanks for listening!