‘And these fakes you’re talking about, they were just decoys. Why would they go to the trouble of bringing in worthless plaster imitations that nobody would want to buy?’

‘That’s a good question,’ Ben said. ‘The answer is, because of what’s in them. Statues cast out of moulded plaster plates are hollow. Something that large, it would have a lot of empty space inside.’

She looked at him.

‘You told me that you don’t know much about archaeology, Margot. But every kid I knew grew up hearing the legend of the Trojan horse. I’m sure you did as well.’

Her expression was blank. ‘Yes, of course I know the story, but—’

‘The Greek army spent ten years besieging the ancient city of Troy before they had the plan to create a huge wooden horse. When the Trojans came out the next day to find the Greeks had all sailed away, they thought they’d won and brought the horse inside the city as a trophy of war. Unknown to them, it was hollow inside, and filled with enemy soldiers who sneaked out the following night, threw open the gates and let in the entire Greek army.’

‘He’s right, Chérie,’ Segal told his wife.

‘But what’s inside?’ she asked, bemused.

‘Not Greek soldiers, that’s for sure,’ Ben said. ‘And not a jihadist invasion force toting automatic weapons, either, because they’re already here. It’s a shipment of drugs. A lot of drugs. I’m guessing that the world of antiquities import is too dully respectable a trade to have yet attracted the suspicion of Europol’s narcotics division.’

Segal hung his head. He looked utterly defeated. ‘So you knew.’

‘We came across the processing plant in the hideout where they were holding Margot,’ Ben told him. ‘The place was empty, apart from a pile of boxes containing about fifty thousand plastic bags, waiting to be packaged up full of narcotics.’

‘I have no idea where it is,’ Segal said. ‘You think Nazim would trust me with that kind of knowledge? But what I do know is that fifty thousand kilos is a conservative estimate. Nazim’s target figure is actually more like sixty-five thousand, split over multiple shipments. Each of the fake Lamassu contains about four and a half thousand kilograms, which was the most weight they could hold without breaking up.’

Roth whistled. ‘Holy shit. Nine thousand keys is almost ten US tons. A kilo brick of cocaine is worth about twenty-five grand, street price. Heroin costs even more, about thirty-eight dollars a gram. Times nine thousand kilos, which is nine million grams, that’d come to …’ He paused for a moment as arithmetical wheels spun inside his head.

Ben got there first. ‘Three hundred and forty-two million dollars.’

‘Crap on a cracker. We’re in the wrong goddamn business, amigo.’