Ben said, ‘But Nazim already had his threat against Margot to keep Segal in line.’

‘Sure, in theory. Only when Nazim had Margot kidnapped he didn’t know that her husband had been wishing her dead for years. Literally. Because Margot was the one with the wealth. Her father made a ton of money in cement when she was little. She was an only child and inherited a few million bucks when he died. Whereas Julien has been squandering cash hand over fist all the time they’ve been unhappily married, and depending on her to keep him in his glory. He spends more than he earns, has run up heavy debts and is technically broke. Margot getting kidnapped by a bunch of murderers was the best thing that could’ve happened for him, because if they’d killed her he’d have gotten rich on her fortune and the life insurance. With her out of the way, he was planning on running off with the new love of his life. Sadly, not to be.’

Ben blinked. ‘Romy Juneau?’

‘You got it. The guy was madly infatuated with her. Our agents found a whole stack of love letters in her apartment. Whether she felt the same way about him, I guess we’ll never know. Personally, I have my doubts. Anyhow, now that Romy’s gone and Margot’s back in the picture, I guess Segal will be the perfect lovey-dovey husband for a while longer.’

Ben’s head was spinning from all the intrigue. ‘Enough of Julien Segal. What happens to Ibrahim al-Rashid?’

‘Use your imagination, man,’ Roth said casually. ‘The usual. What else?’

‘Torture?’

‘And then some. But we prefer the term “extraordinary rendition”. You should be proud. We never woulda got the bastard without you.’

Ben pictured a seventy-year-old man being systematically taken apart by CIA spooks in some dingy cellar in a nameless foreign country, and he felt sickened. ‘You’re a real piece of shit, Roth.’

Roth spread his hands. ‘Yeah, well. You know how it is. But don’t be too rough on us. I mean, we’re buying you a nice new car. The very latest B3 Biturbo model, to replace the one that, needless to say, was never anywhere near the water treatment plant in Alençon.’ He smiled. ‘Least we can do by way of a reward, right?’

‘Stick your reward up your arse,’ Ben said. ‘Am I free to go now?’

‘Free as a bird. Consider yourself and your two compadres officially off the hook. Actually, you never would’ve gotten onto it, if the cops hadn’t come charging in and fouled everything up. Same old.’

‘Good enough,’ Ben said. ‘Just a few loose ends, before I walk out of here and you never see me again. First, Roxane. How is she?’