Rado Mitruczek was one of the 'old guard' of modern art in the former Eastern Bloc going back to the 1950s when he emigrated to Czechoslovakia before the 'Prague Spring'. His battles with authority over freedom of expression were the stuff of legend.

And it was mostly legend.

Rado's wrangles with censors were mostly theater... both the artist and the bureaucrats got a lot of mileage and cachet within their respective communities of supporters over the 'culture wars'.

When the wall fell and the world changed, Rado reinvented himself as the maverick who helped weaken the wall and ushered in freedom of expression. The only problem was that Rado didn't have a lot to express. His real art was the performance of battling the monoculture. Once he was free to create anything he wanted, he had no idea what to do with that freedom.

He eventually drifted into commercial work and material that was arguably fetish photography. The backlash from conservative commercial clients filled the void left by the old culture ministries, and the controversy over his racy images and live performance pieces only increased attention to his works and his client's products, so he remained the polarizing figure in the culture even though he was now well in his 70s.

It also seems his dalliance with fetish photography kindled a taste for more... exotic hedonistic pleasures... which he got away with because he was a cultural icon and seen as a 'harmless old man' although the stories of the terrifying ordeals he put his models through under the guise of 'making art' were notorious in some circles... like Katherine's.

Dennis recounted the tale of Katherine's incident with Rado on a paid modeling shoot, which turned out to involve a planned threesome with his current wife, who confessed to Katherine in a rare moment alone, that she was desperate to leave and free herself from performing in his decadent and increasingly dangerous 'art projects', but could see no way out.

Rado had messed with her mind like the best cult leader. The only out she could see was suicide, and Rado had her convinced that she would only be incarnated into the afterlife as something even more unpleasant.

Katherine talked her into leaving and got her away while asking Rado to demonstrate one of the bondage devices he wanted the women to use in his 'performance piece'. Katherine sealed him into his own 'mummification chamber' and left with Gemma, his latest common-law wife and 'muse'.

Once they were safely out of the country, she called the authorities who found Rado in his compromising situation. But he still had friends in high places, and it was agreed to keep things quiet because the guy was a cultural icon.

Instead they pursued Katherine for kidnapping.

A contentious meeting with authorities at a neutral country's embassy enabled Gemma to tell her story of forced submission and psychological duress, and the authorities were eager for this sordid matter to just go away.

Katherine quickly agreed to Rado's 'settlement' as long as it was only enforceable if she ever returned to his country, which she knew would never happen.

As a postscript, Dennis reminded me that I met Gemma... at Katherine's Monterey estate where she oversaw the help as staff supervisor.

I had been unaware of the connection or backstory, but suddenly recalled Dennis referring to Casa Keller as an 'endangered species' refuge. I was beginning to realize that there was a lot more to Katherine Keller than I had ever imagined.

Rado Mitruczek was a dapper looking old guy. He reminded me of a guy selling 'complete' classical music collections on late night TV.... or, who was that old movie guy?.... Douglas Fairbanks Jr?.... he had that kind of old school dapper air. I began to think all the stories about him were wrong, or at least exaggerations... he seemed like a harmless old guy from another era.

Until he took me into his 'private workshop' to show the exhibition he was working on for me. It looked like Dr Mengele's toolshed. There were gizmos and devices I could only guess about, but it all seemed quite flamboyantly unsavory. I did ask him about many items, and he seemed quite proud of each of his creations, bragging at the different ways they could bring a 'model' to a horrific near death experience, shuddering and exclaiming that mere orgasm paled at the sensation of being 'on the brink of infinity'. OK, beloved cultural icon or not, this guy was seriously disturbed... and extremely dangerous. I can't even bring myself to repeat the 'art projects' he bragged about in grotesquely lurid detail. Fortunately, I didn't have to, because the smartphone I had in the pocket of my fashionably sheer blazer was streaming my entire 'pre-performance briefing' to an avid Ustream audience, which Dennis, Mikey and I made sure also included local authorities and members of the news media.

I kind of counted on the fact that a 70ish guy would be unaware that someone could possibly be livestreaming from the phone in her pocket. That gamble seemed to be paying off.

Rado kept trying to offer me a drink and I kept refusing, finally relenting to accept a glass but avoiding actually drinking it, covertly tossing the liquid into an empty pocket in my trendy bright neon plastic purse.

Once he thought I had imbibed he lit up, describing his grand exhibit, called 'last week's model' and brought me into his studio where five or six stunning young women … or more accurately, older girls... were sealed in what looked like giant vacuum packed plastic packages with names, measurement info, price and 'expiration date' printed on large labels affixed to the bags.

I couldn't tell whether they were amazingly realistic mannequins or actual flesh and blood people. But none moved and seemed frozen in their expressions, so I presumed they were amazingly lifelike figures.

Rado showed me the large empty plastic sack attached to some vacuum pump device that looked to be from a science fiction movie. I noticed that it had MY name and measurements, and by the 'expiration date' contained a large red “Expired' stamp.

He explained how I was to be covered in green and black velour dust – resembling mold, and posed in a large bin like a disposed doll. I was getting really uneasy and wondering when the authorities watching the livestream would see enough and end this harrowing encounter. To stall for time, I told him I didn't think I could remain as still as his mannequns. He flashed the most menacing smile and explained that they weren't mannequins.

At my alarmed reaction, he just waved his hand dismissively and said they were fine... better than fine in fact. There was this biootoxin...used in sacred rituals by an obscure indigenous rainforest culture, that would completely inhibit muscle and motor function in its subjects, while not crossing the blood brain barrier and not affecting the nervous system, so they in fact had heightened sensory stimulus of their virtual encapsulation. Their respiration and heartrates slowed to imperecptible levels, giving the continuous sensation of suffocation without actually depriving the slowed metabolism of enough oxygen to do any lasting damage.

I was stunned and appalled by what I was hearing, and if the authorities didn't come knocking soon, I was going to subdue this old sadist myself. Rado clucked that my beverage contained enough of his 'full body botox' to render me the pliable last piece in his perverse 'artwork'. He kept looking at me for signs that it was beginning to have its effect, and muttered about how long it was taking to affect my 'freakishly large' frame, making no effort to hide his growing annoyance.

At some point, those watching the stream had seen enough and the door intercom sounded. Words were exchanged and Rado left to sign for a package. Only the delivery person was undercover police and Rado was taken into custody.

Unfortunately, I found I'd been locked into his 'toyroom' as we later learned he called it. It took a few hours for authorities to get through his 'defenses' and release me ...AND send my drink off for lab analysis, after which he was also charged with forced detention and attempted rape.

While waiting to be sprung, I did have a long while to examine all his 'toys' and talked to the girls imprisoned in the vacuum sealed plastic pouches, assuming – based upon his earlier brag, that they were all lucid and extremely aware of what was going on.

I talked calmly to them about people coming soon to get them out and undo whatever that evil bastard had done to them. I told then of my scheme of using my phone and manipulating him to brag while authorities were watching and recording.

I knew they were motionless and did resemble lifeless mannequins, just as Rado bragged. But one thing he did not mention, or maybe had not noticed, was that the pupils of their eyes changed their dilation as I talked of Rado's twisted 'art project' and their imminent rescue and release. I was overwhelmed at the thought of what these girls were enduring, and I hoped I did Katherine proud by seeing that this twisted son of a bitch was stopped once and for good.

This whole incident just provided more fodder for the tabloid press about 'Katherine's Kinky Kidnapper' and made it look like a salacious stunt on my part.

If this was the sort of stuff the real Katherine had been dealing with since about 16, no wonder she was a bit of a misanthrope.

Things kind of got back to normal once I was able to leave the country and get back on the promotional tour. Whatever plea settlement he made with authorities, I ...or rather, Katherine... was absolved of any further obligation stemming from the earlier incident, and in fact my little 'model audition livestream' managed to verify all the earlier allegations Katherine made but was unable to prove.

“Well, at least now Katherine will be free to return here if she ever wants to.” I smiled to Dennis.

He shot me a sad look. “Once she's free to go anywhere. Have your spies been able to find anything yet?”

I turned to Mikey. “Have you heard anything from Matt or your creepy internet friends?” I smiled.

“They're NOT creepy. Just curious. ….well, kind of nosy... a bit beyond nosy... okay, maybe a little creepy... but in a good 'information wants to be free' way ….even if it is really personal information...”

He cleared his throat self-consciously and got back on topic.“Matt's been following some of HatueShot's co-owners, and he has a guy in the mailroom that sends him phone photos of all envelopes to or from her agent... postmarks, return addresses and stuff. My resources are tracing cellphone records. I think one guy has a second family his 'official' family doesn't know about, and there are some occasional... probably just casual hookups... but so far no pattern. Some of these may involve where they're holding Katherine, but so far they don't look any different from casual short-term hook-ups. We may need to wait for more data to see a consistent pattern. Tracing expenditures, we're finding no regular payments that would indicate prolonged stays at a rehab facility ...or some sort of ….” he scowled “...asylum or forced-stay type facility”

“Well, keep at it.” I said. “We have to find out where she is. Why she's still there. And depending on what we find, how to get her out.”

“OK, cuz. As long as you're not asking for much!” Mikey grinned.

I shot him a smile. “Yeah, her life is really growing on me, and I'm shocked when I stop and think about it how easy I took to it. But more and more I'm reminded of the woman whose life I've ...borrowed.... without her permission. There's some guilt at stepping into her lavish life while she's God-knows-where.... but mostly I want to find out what happened to her, and ideally meet her and compare notes and find out how we both ended up where we are and how to set things right.”

I got the warmest smile from Dennis. It really seemed that they battled like cats and dogs, but when I realized how long they had been together and learned more about the many things they had been through... I began to think that maybe they battled like ….siblings.... okay, there was no blood between them, but they both grew up together on the streets, and when Katherine's career took off, Dennis was with her every step of the way.

I finally screwed up the nerve to ask him about it.

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

He shook his head. “Don't think so. Maybe the guy who got my mom pregnant had other kids with other girls... but... if I need a life saving transplant, I think I'm screwed.” he smiled.

Typical Dennis. Humourous, but very very dark. I did get out of him that his mom raised him... sort of... but she was a bit of a mess herself and died when he was about ten. He lived on the streets until he got caught shoplifting and ended up in the social care system. Some time in an orphanage, and foster care, which he really didn't take to. Running away and back on the streets again. He preferred living by his wits than being a cog in the system, and he was much better at not getting caught.

He bumped into Katherine over a turf dispute regarding a restaurant dumpster, and they eventually formed a truce that quickly became an alliance. Katherine was 'discovered' by a photographer and soon left the streets behind her.

She took Dennis on the ride, saying they made a good team. He was good at reading people and figuring out their actual intentions, and she was good in front of the camera and, it turns out, at the negotiating table, since she didn't seem to know the meaning of fear and was willing to live back on the streets if she didn't get her way.

Along the way, Katherine ...collected... people. Mostly people who had been broken by life or the system... she provided them shelter and security and ...mostly a sense of routine... which mattered a lot for people who had been knocked around so much by life that they never knew what the next day would bring.

Dennis had joked that the Monterey villa was really Katherine's “Gamine Preserve' ...where kids who had been chewed up and spat out by an industry that viewed them as interchangeable objects could find stability and work on developing a sense of self ...and 'home'.