‘I was convinced I wouldn’t return from Amsterdam alive. But I reasoned that they could kill me anytime they wanted, so what choice did I have? We met in a suite at the Pulitzer Hotel and he told me his plan. You see, whatever else Nazim al-Kassar might be, he isn’t just some mindless idealist. Above all he’s a businessman. A very serious businessman. He always kept an eye to the future, seeing ahead to the day when ISIL would be defeated in open warfare, and the jihadists would need to look to other tactics. Working from the inside, infiltrating lucrative trades like mine and using every penny to further their cause.’

Segal went on, ‘And that was how it began. For the last four years they’ve been using me to bring illegally obtained antiquities into Europe for them to sell to raise funds for expanding their jihadist networks in France, Germany, Sweden, Denmark, Britain, everywhere. With my reputation and contacts, they were guaranteed a secure and steady trade route from various ports of the Middle East into Europe. I made sure that all the paperwork was always in order, but giving false destinations for the items, using straw buyers who were either bribed to take part in the fraud or were sometimes fictitious. Over the years I brought in over eleven million euros’ worth of merchandise for them.’

‘Taking a nice commission for yourself, I’ll bet,’ Ben said.

‘I wouldn’t have accepted a single cent of that money,’ Segal protested. ‘Not even if it had been offered. Which it wasn’t. While they’ve been getting rich, the bastards have sucked me dry, like vampires. I’m close to losing everything I worked so hard to build. I can barely afford the rent on the Paris offices any longer. The house is remortgaged, too.’

Margot stared at him in horror. ‘Our beautiful home?’

He shrugged. ‘What else could I do? They made me their dhimmi, their slave. I was powerless to stop it. Don’t you think I wanted to? Two years ago, I plucked up the courage to tell Nazim, “That’s it, I’m done.” Some days later an envelope arrived at the office, addressed to me personally. It had photographs inside.’

‘Photographs?’ she asked him. ‘Of what?’

‘Of you, my darling,’ Segal confessed. ‘One taken while you were out shopping. The other at home, in the garden. There was no note, but none was needed. The warning was clear. If I didn’t keep helping them, they would kidnap or kill you.’

Margot swallowed. A tear rolled down her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but she had no words.