HEADING out on her daily morning run, in the quiet tree-lined suburb of her family home, student Anabel Segura had no sense that she was in danger.
But two men were lying in wait in the affluent area of La Moraleja, Madrid, Spain, and watching her every move.
Minutes later, the sinister pair snatched the 22-year-old in broad daylight, holding her at knifepoint and bundling her into a white van.
It was the beginning of one of Spain’s most horrifying and drawn-out kidnapping cases, gripping the nation for years to come.
The investigation would lead police on a desperate hunt. The truth, when it came, was worse than anyone imagined.
Now, over 30 years on, the full recordings from the kidnappers are being aired on a new Netflix documentary series, 900 Days Without Anabel.
Across three episodes, the story of Anabel’s abduction is told through key police who worked her case, alongside members of her community and journalists.
At the spot where Anabel was taken, on April 12th 1993, police found only a few scattered belongings left behind in the struggle.
“Where the van had been parked, a Walkman, a white T-shirt, and a young woman’s sweater were found,” Juan J.B., a key member of the police investigation, tells documentary-makers.
The only eyewitness was a school gardener. But without a license plate or solid leads, the case began as a dead end.
Police scoured thousands of white van registrations and kept a 24-hour watch on the Segura family home, hoping for a breakthrough.
For the family, the wait was agonizing.
“It became an obsession for us to find Anabel, wherever she was,” says Jaime Barrado, head of the national police’s kidnapping group. “Finding someone with the information at hand was harder than finding a needle in a haystack. It was a nightmare the family were going through.”
Two days after Anabel’s disappearance, her kidnappers finally made contact.
Her father, José Segura, a wealthy businessman, had enlisted the help of his friend, senior lawyer Rafael Escuredo, to act as a mediator. Police tapped the family’s phone, listening in on every word.
Speaking to Rafael, a cold voice warned: “She is fine for now. She’s not lacking anything. Her safety is up to you.”
The demand was staggering -150 million pesetas, the equivalent of nearly £1.6million.
The kidnappers instructed Rafael to put the cash in a gym bag and await further instructions.
“If you fail, or we find out you involved the police, your daughter will suffer,” the caller threatened.
For José, even as a wealthy man, the sum was an immense burden to pull together but he didn’t hesitate.
Eight days after the abduction, Rafael made the drop-off under a motorway bridge. The bag was stuffed with the full ransom.
Police were stationed around the area in camouflaged cars. But a helicopter flying overhead alerted the kidnappers that they were being watched.
“They didn’t show up because of the police,” says Barrado. “No one wanted to say it, but it was clear. We didn’t know if Anabel was OK. It was devastating.”
Two weeks later, the kidnappers called again, furious.
“We don’t want a repeat of what happened two weeks ago, you understand? Police, helicopters—you won’t have another chance,” they said.
A second ransom attempt was arranged. This time, the bag of money was left by the side of a road. Yet again, the kidnappers failed to collect it.
“It was constant anxiety and unease,” said dad José. “Above all, the feeling of helplessness. There was nothing we could do but wait, day and night for the phone to ring.”
In June 1993, 71 days after Anabel’s abduction, her parents were given a glimmer of hope when the kidnappers sent a cassette tape in the post.
On it was a trembling voice: “Hi Mum and Dad, it’s June 22nd. I just want to tell you I’m OK, all things considered. They’re not treating me badly, but I really want to be home with you, and I miss you all a lot.”
The tape also carried a chilling threat: “If all our demands aren’t met in the delivery of the ransom, thirty days after receiving this tape, we will execute her. I repeat, if the demands aren’t met she will be executed.”
The family clung to the hope that Anabel was still alive. But her father, José, wasn’t convinced.
“After listening to the recording, José, without letting his wife, who was crying at the time, speak, immediately said: ‘That’s not Anabel,’” recalls Barrado.
The kidnappers went silent. Months passed without any news.
By September, over 150 days after Anabel’s disappearance, protests had erupted on the streets. Thousands marched, demanding justice for Anabel.
“Most people didn’t see it as just another kidnapping,” said Juan Carlos Cuesta, deputy chief of the national police kidnapping squad. “They saw it as their own family had been taken.”
Desperate for a lead, police visited every prison in Spain, playing the recordings to see if anyone recognized the voice. They appealed to the public for help.
By November 1993, police released the kidnapper’s voice to the media.
They received over 30,000 calls. From those, 1,600 were deemed credible.
But by April 1995, the second anniversary of her kidnapping, there were no arrests;
In a TV plea, a tearful Jose said: “I am willing to do whatever it takes to bring Anabel back to us and my family feels the same way.
“Whether within the law, or if need be outside the law. All we want is to have Anabel back.”
April 12 1993 – The student is snatched from the street near her home
2 days in – Kidnappers demand a ransom of 15- Pesetas (£1.6m)
8 days in – Agreed drop of ransom cash fails after police helicopter spotted
2 weeks in– Second drop fails as kidnappers didn’t turn up
71 days in – Tape containing fake message from Anabel and threat of execution arrives
150 days – Protests erupt in the street, demanding justice for Anabel. Police release kidnappers voice and got over 30,000 calls
899 days in – Investigators track down Emilio Monas, his wife Felisa and accomplice Candido Ortiz. They admit they killed Annabel just six hours after the adduction and her remains are found in a shallow grave
1999 – Emilio and Candido each jailed for 43.5 years jail. Felisa was jailed for six months
10 May 2021 – Memorial for Anabel Segura was held next to the Civic Centre that bears her name
A final breakthrough came when of the callers – a resident in Toledo – told the police: “That is Candi’s voice, the plumber of my town”.
The information led them to plumber Cándido ‘Candi’ Ortiz and, through their investigations his childhood friend Emilio Monas Guadix, a 35-year-old delivery driver with a history of violence.
Police discovered Guadix had worked with his brother Alfonso, who had fallen out with him. They persuaded Alfonso to speak to Emilio’s wife, Felisa García.
It was Felisa who delivered the devastating truth.
“She admitted she had pretended to be Anabel in the proof-of-life tape,” recalled Cuesta. “Then she told us, ‘They killed Anabel. Anabel is dead.’”
Felisa also implicated her husband and his accomplice Ortiz in the murder.
A Chilling Confession
On September 19, 1995 – 899 days after Anabel disappeared – police arrested Emilio and Cándido in a well-coordinated sting operation.
Cándido broke down immediately. “I knew this was going to happen,” he said. “Believe me or not, I was waiting for you to catch me. I couldn’t live with it anymore. We killed her. We buried her in a place nearby, but you’ll never find her.”
A day later, Emilio led investigators to Anabel’s shallow grave at an abandoned brick factory in Toledo, around 70km south of Madrid, where they had taken her after her abduction.
She had been killed just six and a half hours later after attempting to escape her captures. The men confessed they had no secure place to hold her and panicked, strangling her before burying her nearby.
At their trial, Emilio showed no remorse, chillingly referring to the kidnapping as “a deal.”
Both men were sentenced to 43.5 years in prison. Felisa, who impersonated Anabel, also faced additional charges.
The nation mourned Anabel’s death. Protests and public outrage continued for months.
In her memory, a cultural center was established in Alcobendas, Anabel’s neighbourhood in Madrid. The Centro Cultural Anabel Segura still stands today, a place for hope and healing in her honor.
But the pain of her loss remains.
“She was a wonderful girl and honestly, because of the police investigation I had to do something I never would have wanted to do,” said Jose, after her body was found.
“But I’m glad I did. I read her diary and she was even better than I thought she was.”
