Jennifer's friend, Rachel, was perched on her bed and looked as surprised as her chum. "Is there something wrong?" she ventured tentatively.
The officer who appeared to be in charge spoke roughly, in English.
"Both of you, against the wall," he snapped, "Quickly!"
His uncompromising tone prompted the girls to acquiesce immediately.
The policeman rapped out an order in Chinese and his three colleagues began a detailed search of the room, ransacking cupboards and rifling through drawers as the young women looked on, wondering what on earth they were hoping to find. Neither girl used illegal drugs, so at least that was something they were unlikely to find.
The chief officer issued a further brief command to his men, who then set about searching the girls' suitcases, sifting through their clothes and personal items. Jennifer and Rachel both blushed involuntarily as the men examined their bras and used panties, seemingly unnecessarily turning their worn briefs inside out for closer inspection.
"Ah!" cried one of the men, and held something up for his Chief to behold. He had found something in Jennifer's case.
Almost immediately came a shout from one of the other officers, and he too held a small object aloft, chattering animatedly in Chinese to his superior.
Both the girls felt waves of apprehension wash over them as they realised why the police had come to visit them.
"You come with us now!" barked the Chief, pointing to the doorway.
Two hours later, the young ladies were sitting in the British Consul's office, now fully aware of the terrible plight they had landed themselves in.
The girls were friends and workmates in the local government offices of a small town in Surrey. Both in their early 20's, they had struck up a warm friendship some two years earlier, having the usual things in common that most young women share - fashion, music, boyfriends - and travel. Both were passionately interested in travelling and had enthusiastically investigated the usual tourist haunts of Spain, Greece and Italy. But, although they had enjoyed the commercial resorts, the girls had both decided that they should become more ambitious and adventurous, and had avidly scoured the brochures for somewhere really unusual for their next venture abroad - ideally somewhere wild and off the beaten track that they could be sure none of their friends had visited, affording them the satisfying opportunity of regaling them with wondrous tales of the exotic and obscure upon their triumphant return home.
And this is why they had decided on three weeks in Yang Shing Luan, a province in a remote part of north-east China. The travel agent had warned them that very little was known of the area, but it was considered reasonably safe, although tourists were virtually unheard of. However, the travel firm did have a local contact and the hotels were reputed to be of an acceptable standard, if a little on the basic side. This didn't bother the girls at all - they were looking for a new and unique experience, and this seemed to tick most of the boxes.
So, travel funds and visas arranged, a month later found Jenny and Rachel in the wilds of rural China.
True, the hotel was very basic and the food unfamiliar, but with the boundless optimism of youth, the girls were determined to savour the experience.
Of course, the area was peopled almost exclusively by peasant Chinese and not geared up for leisure visitors, but there was enough day-to-day bustle to entertain the English girls and many unusual sights and sounds - modern civilisation had not touched this region to any great degree, and most of the locals were still living exactly the same lives as their ancestors hundreds of years ago.
Only the hotel manager spoke English, and it was he who suggested that the girls may like to tour the ancient temple at Nang Wei, some twenty miles to the west. It was apparently of considerable historical significance and the hotel manager thought it would provide an interesting day out. The girls were enthusiastic, and a local taxi was organised to provide transport.
When they arrived at their hot and dusty destination, Jenny and Rachel were immediately fascinated by the temple. Of indeterminate age, it was partly ruined, but enough of the original architecture had survived to indicate that it must at one time have been magnificent.
There were no official guides, of course, but about a dozen local Chinese were also wandering around the holy place, staring in astonishment at the girls' western dress and in horror at the shortness of their skirts as Jenny and Rachel investigated the old building, taking hundreds of photographs on their digital cameras.
Rachel suddenly suggested that they look for a couple of souvenirs to take back home, and in the obvious absence of an official gift shop, they searched around for something suitable.
"Oh, look, these'll do," smiled Jenny, picking up a couple of brightly coloured stones from a small alcove in the temple wall. She slipped one into her handbag and handed the other to Rachel.
After a pleasant afternoon in the remote district and a meal of what appeared to be some kind of fowl and brown rice at a small local restaurant, they met their taxi at the pre-arranged time and arrived back at their hotel.
Then the police visit.
David Jackson surveyed the two young women in front of him, and sighed. He had been British Consul to this God-forsaken place for just over three years now, and had hated nearly every minute of it. Not that he'd had much choice about the posting. He had been suspected of accepting bribes to influence contract awards in his previous position in Belgium and, although the charges could not be absolutely proven, he was presented with an ultimatum by his superiors - either resign, with a significant loss of pension rights, or accept this posting in the Chinese wilderness.
"Didn't you stop to consider that everything in the temple might be sacred?" he began, eyeing the deflated girls keenly. "You may have thought that nobody was watching you, but westerners stick out like a sore thumb in these parts, and one of the locals shopped you. What on earth were you thinking of?"
Jennifer spoke first, her voice trembling with emotion.
"But....but we didn't think the stones were valuable. There were lots of them......and we only wanted a small momento each........"
"Yes," blurted Rachel, "We'd have willingly paid for anything we took, if necessary......but there was no-one to ask."
Jackson thought for a moment.
"Those "stones," as you call them, were part of a holy offering to the goddess Yang Ho Shek. They are thousands of years old and an integral part of the local religion. To even tamper with them - let alone steal them - is a very serious offence."
Both girls went deathly pale.
"But.....but surely, if we explained that we had no idea about their significance......they must know we're foreigners and don't understand the local customs......" mumbled Jennifer.
Jackson shook his head.
"I'm afraid it makes no difference. This is not England. The laws here are rigid and draconian. You two are in serious trouble."
The girls were close to panicking.
"But....but surely you can do something as Consul......explain to the police....." cried Rachel.
Again, Jackson looked grim.
"I have to tell you that in this province, the penalty for your offence is....." He hesitated. "Execution by firing squad, for a local..." Both girls gasped. "And up to thirty years imprisonment, without remission, for foreigners."
The girls began to sob uncontrollably as his words sunk in.
Jackson had told them the unvarnished truth. That was indeed the local law, and life was pitifully expendable in this remote district. But in his three years here, he had managed to strike up something of a rapport with the Chief of Police, and they had often dined and played mah-jong together with a few of the Chief's colleagues and their wives.
He regarded the two young English girls sitting across the desk, and began to consider whether he had enough influence to persuade his police friend to exercise a degree of clemency.
Of course, there would be conditions. The Chief, he knew, had long had a fascination with white girls, although he had spent his entire life in this remote region, and had never actually come into contact with any. But he had managed to acquire a small clandestine collection of European girlie magazines, and loved the full breasts and curvy bottoms displayed in the pages, such a contrast to the spare, bony build of the local girls.
Jackson himself was missing the U.K. and the opportunities for pleasure afforded by that country. Three years he'd been stuck here without setting eyes on a white woman. That is, until today.
He thought carefully. Maybe a solution could be found to suit everybody?
"Look," he said to the tearful girls, "I have a proposition that might just be acceptable to the Chief of Police, who I happen to be on good terms with. You will spend tonight at your hotel under house arrest, and will report to me here at 10.00 a.m. tomorrow morning. When you arrive, I urge you both strongly to be smartly dressed. Is that clear?"
Both girls nodded furiously, and Jackson summoned the guards to escort them back to their hotel.
As soon as the door closed, he reached for his telephone, and dialled.
"Kwok? Hello, it's David here. I presume you will already have been briefed on the two English girls who stole from the temple? I thought so. Now, I've just interviewed them, and I have a suggestion to put to you that I think you may find interesting......."
Next morning at 10.00 a.m. prompt, Jennifer and Rachel were led in to the Consul's office. As advised, they were both very smartly turned out and looked most attractive.
Jackson sensed the tension in the air as the guards retreated and closed the door behind them, both girls eagerly scanning his face for any hint of good news.
"Well, ladies, as I mentioned yesterday, I have had discussions with the Chief of Police, and explained your position to him. I have stressed that you are both extremely remorseful and made it clear to him that you were under the impression that you were not doing anything wrong. In the circumstances, he has agreed to treat the matter as "off the record," as we say, and your punishment will be carried out in private by the Chief himself. However, there is a further condition. My stay in this area has been a long and lonely one, and to acknowledge my part in negotiating for your punishment to be commuted, I shall require you to show your......er, shall we say......gratitude. Do you understand?"
The girls looked at each other nervously.
"Th.....thank you so much for doing this for us," whispered Rachel, "I know we couldn't bear a long prison sentence in China. But.......but what do we have to do?"
Jackson spoke gently, but firmly.
"In a few minutes I intend to lock the door and pull down the blinds so that we won't be disturbed. I'm sure that neither of you is totally naive, so I know you will both understand when I say that you are going to entertain me. Is that quite clear?"
Both girls nodded silently.
"And......and how will the Police Chief punish us.....when we see him?" queried Jennifer, her voice tremulous.
"He is going to apply the lightest penalty that the rules here permit, namely twelve strokes each with a specialised bamboo cane across your bare bottoms. From what I've heard, the strokes are very hard and delivered without mercy."
Both Jennifer and Rachel gasped in horror, instinctively clinging to each other, their blood running cold as the dreadful words registered.
Jackson let them consider for a minute or so.
"Are you agreeable?" he asked, "Remember, it's really a small price to pay if you weigh up the alternative."
Both girls nodded, without speaking.
"Good," said Jackson, walking briskly to the office door and locking it, then pulling down the window blinds.
He turned, and motioned to Jennifer.
"You first," he smiled, "Strip down to your underwear."
Jennifer stood up nervously, flushing deeply, and discarded her smart suede jacket, folding it neatly and placing it on her chair. Next came her blouse, her fingers trembling slightly as she unfastened the small buttons down the front, then pulling the garment off her shoulders and placing it on top of her jacket. Breathing deeply, she then quickly unzipped her short dark pleated skirt, letting it drop and stepping out of it as it pooled around her dainty ankles.
Jackson spoke softly.