‘You’re in over your fucking head, Matti,’ she says. ‘What did your new fella tell you about his job?’

‘Don’t call me Matti,’ Jacob says.

Myriam smiles slightly and Jacob can almost see what she’s like outside of this sick, terrifying situation. She’s almost beautiful, with her soft, clear features and smooth, olive skin. Her symmetrical mouth and determined nose. They don’t fit her ruthless manner. Then her smile disappears, and she’s coldly menacing again.

‘Okay, Jacob,’ she says, with air quotes. ‘Let me guess, he told you he’s a photographer?’

Jacob nods, reluctantly. She seems pleased.

‘Ask to see some of his photographs,’ she says. ‘Ask him where they’re published. If you doubt the truth of what I’m about to tell you this evening.’

‘What do you think he’s done?’ he says.

‘Your boyfriend is a terrorist,’ she says. ‘Or worse than that. He doesn’t do the deed himself. He’s what they call a “lighter”. That means he doesn’t carry out or even plan terror attacks. But he’s the one who transports the plan. Do you understand?’

Jacob shakes his head. ‘Excuse me?’ he says, convinced he misheard or that she’s joking.

She just looks at him with a blend of impatience and contempt. ‘Your boyfriend is a terrorist,’ she says again. ‘Is that so hard to take in, Matti? Maybe you didn’t run into them very often in the housing projects of Eskilstuna?’

‘It’s impossible,’ Jacob whispers. Terrorist. The word echoes in his mind. ‘How do you know that?’

‘We know because we keep an eye on these things, Matti. We put together puzzles with our colleagues in the other Western intelligence services. Trade information. I’m sure this is overwhelming for you, but you’ve landed in the middle of something much bigger than you can imagine.’

He looks up at her. ‘What do you mean?’ he whispers.

She doesn’t answer, just stands up and walks with her hands behind her back over to the balcony door and looks out.

‘Often a terrorist attack is planned in the Middle East by ISIS. But the perpetrators of the attack are already in place in Europe; it’s too risky to fly people in. There’s no shortage of willing brothers who want to kill the infidels already in place. But someone has to bring the plan to them, because often several different cells are involved and most of them don’t even know about the others. Nowadays, terrorists don’t use email for the most sensitive information – only human couriers will do. We’ve gotten too good at picking up any chatter online, and they know that.’

Jacob rubs his hands over his face. Lighter. Chatter online.

‘Something’s up right now,’ she continues. ‘Something big is being planned in Europe, I can’t say more than that. And your new boyfriend is mixed up in it.’