Ben’s jacket wasn’t helping to protect Margot Segal much from the night chill, and she was shivering and looked faint. ‘Wait here,’ he said to Roth, gave him the bag and sprinted for the car. Less than two minutes later he screeched up at the mouth of the alley. They got Margot Segal into the back, and dumped in the bag with the guns.

She murmured, ‘I’ve never been in a police car before.’

Ben thought, And you still haven’t. He jumped back behind the wheel, Roth bundled into the passenger seat and they were away with the heater blowing on maximum.

‘Where to?’ Roth asked.

Ben wanted to take her to a hospital but was worried about all the questions that would be asked, especially when the real police turned up. A hotel was out of the question, because of the same inevitable suspicions when two tough-looking men turned up with an older woman in a nightdress who looked exactly like someone who’d recently been kidnapped and held hostage. The only option he had was to return to his place, and take his chances that it was still safe.

They were there within the hour.

Thierry had not returned. Ben wasn’t expecting to see him again. The guy was a disappointment. Ben carried Margot Segal into the bedroom and laid her down on the bed. By then she was alert enough to be talking more as the feelings of relief began to hit home. ‘Is this the protective custody you told me about, Inspector Dardenne?’ she asked.

‘It’s only temporary, until we find something better,’ he assured her. ‘You’ll have everything you need, I promise.’

‘Couldn’t I go back home?’

‘The moment it’s safe, you will. And you can call me Jacques, all right?’

‘Thank you, Jacques,’ she replied softly, and Ben felt like a bastard for deceiving her. As he removed her shoes and went to work cleaning up her feet with cotton pads and antiseptic cream, she described the terrifying moment when the kidnappers had attacked her in her home.