Mike, the younger of the two officers, lit up a cigarette. "Who'd have thought the wigger was the thief, heh?"

"I've told you often enough, boy, to always keep an eye on the quiet ones. Call in and update the desk."

The young officer picked up the handset, sent his callsign and waited. The radio crackled and a conversation began. The lad confirmed that they had detained me and that they had the evidence. He informed the desk that they were on their way to Shallcross to collect two more prisoners.

I was relieved when the sergeant steered the vehicle onto the main highway after negotiating about five miles of bumpy side roads. The back bench seat was hard and uncomfortable. My ears pricked up when I heard a zip being opened. I craned my neck to see the young officer bending over my bag with his hand in the side pocket. That's where I kept a bar of dark chocolate.

When he held up an A5 envelope I knew instantly that I was in deeper trouble. He turned the envelope so that both men could read the words that were written on the front with a black felt-tip pen.

SET OF FIVE

2000 Rand or

500 Rand each.

"Did you open this, Sarge?"

He shook his head. "Never seen it before. Is it sealed?"

"Nope."

"Take a look."

The lad lifted the flap and pulled out what looked like one or several photographs. When the officer turned the top one around my heart missed a beat. "Fuck! This girl's selling porn."

"Shit that's her!" Both men gawped at the photograph. The car swerved slightly, causing the sergeant to correct the steering.

The first picture was of me performing cunnilingus on Cathy. It was the picture that started the whole mess. The second picture was of me performing cunnilingus on Debbie.

"Fucking hell. The wigger loves black pussy," Mike said.

The sergeant took that picture from the lad only to reveal one of me lying on my back holding my knees down on my chest. The background had been fuzzed out to hide the location, but a black cock was clearly visible half embedded in my anus. I remember the occasion. It was taken in Mr Keita's study, but Kerry had gone to great lengths to hide the identity of the man and room.

"Black cock as well," the sergeant muttered, swapping photos.

"Watch the road, sarge."

The last two pictures were taken while I was performing my gymnastic routine without panties on. They were carefully selected and trimmed so that no one was in the background. The first was of me with my right leg in the air and the second was my final handstand. They both were incredibly lewd close-ups of my face and my splayed sex. Kerry was going to a lot of trouble to get revenge on me in spectacular fashion.

I could have died or melted into the patrol car's back seat as the pair silently examined the photographs. The lad, Mike, glanced at me over his shoulder, then back at the pictures.

"Put them back in the envelope, Mike, we'll be in Shallcross soon."

My mind was in a whirl. Detained with no one to help me, I decided that I should keep quiet and not make any more comments until I had a lawyer. The road was getting bumpier, and the evening was drawing in. I could tell we were getting near to their destination by watching the satnav on the car's dashboard.

Finally, the sergeant pulled up outside a single-story brick-built building that was in a dreadful state. I could just about read the sign above the door - 'Police & Shallcross Community Centre'. The paintwork was flaking, the handrails and bike stands were rusting and the walls were covered in bold graffiti. I spotted the word 'pig' several times among the colourful spray-painted swirls and psychedelic images.

The officers climbed out and surprised me. The sergeant came to my door and opened it. He leant across me and released the belt. "We're stopping for a break. It'll give you an opportunity to have a piss."

I needed the toilet, so I didn't object. He grabbed my arm and waited for me to swing my legs out. Having seen a flash of light blue he hauled me up, then we followed Mike through the station's single glass door. The entrance to the police department was on the left. This time it was a pair of double wooden doors that had small windows in them.

They pushed through them, past an empty desk and stopped outside an open door to an office. The walls were glass above waist height, so I was able to see the officer get to his feet and come over to meet us at the doorway.

About ten feet down the corridor were, I presumed, the prisoners that the officers had come to pick up. A young black man and a young black woman were sitting on benches on opposite sides of the corridor. Their hands were cuffed behind their backs and their ankles cuffed to a metal bar beneath the bench.

The new officer ran his eyes over me. "What have you got there, Zunga?" He was another sergeant, so used the man's name or nickname.

He squeezed my elbow. "This girl is the prime suspect for the Durban Girl's Academy heist. Vice will be interested in her as well. She's a filthy little bitch."

The station officer frowned as he studied me more keenly. "She's remarkably clean for a filthy bitch. Are you sure?"

"Fuck yes, Sir. We've seen the photographs. She's into porn in a big way," the young officer added.