From:		Dan@Fry.ishma.iq
	Sent:		Sun 11/07/04 14:05
	To:		connie.burns@uknet.com
	Subject:		Thank God!

Where the hell have you been, Connie? You promised you’d keep in touch as long as I put you on the plane, but all I’ve had is silence for nearly two months—zilch…00000000—until a miserly 15-word email 2 hrs ago. I’m so damned angry with you. I’ve been sick to my stomach with worry since you left.

FYI: I’ve been bombarding London for info, only to be told they know less than I do. Harry Smith had to ask a colleague on a tabloid for your parents’ address because your next-of-kin details are out of date. All your father will say is that you’re “out of London” and he’s passing on messages. So why haven’t you answered any of them? Where are you? What’s going on? Have you seen a doctor? I wouldn’t have kept my mouth shut if I thought you were planning to deal with this on your own. Have you any idea of the stick I’m getting?

I assume you used my private address to avoid the office finding out. Well, OK, except you’ve told me nothing apart from your new e-address and the fact that you’re “fine.” I can’t/don’t believe that. You must talk to someone. London had a counsellor lined up for you—they were willing to give you all the protection you wanted—but you blew them away. Why? Don’t you realize what the consequences are likely to be? I still have nightmares about Bob Lerwick being shot in front of me, and that was ten years ago.

At the moment I’m beating myself up for not forcing you to accept help here. I thought I was doing the right thing by keeping it quiet, but now…

It’s turning into a hell of a mess, frankly. I’ve been interviewed three times by a cynical US cop working with the Baghdad police (Jerry Greenhough) who’s concluded the whole “abduction” was a scam. He seems to think you’re planning to demand huge sums in compensation or write a best-selling “fiction” about something that never happened.

Write to me, Connie. Better still, phone. My number’s the same.

Love, Dan