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from beginning to end.’ And so Mert went through his Looking Glass tale, finishing at about three o’clock in the morning. They wanted to know everything – about the spooks, the carding with Sadun, the DarkMarket exploration, the girlfriend – and not one detail was left out.

The thugs finally went to sleep, except that one was always awake to ensure that whenever Mert nodded off, they could rouse him with a shower of kicks and punches.

At midday on Monday, Şahin called, and Çağatay placed him on speaker phone. By this time Mert’s will had been broken. He assumed he was going to be killed. He was not surprised when Şahin told him to repeat everything he had already said. It was all filmed. At the end, Şahin spoke. ‘Okay, now is the time for your punishment,’ he said without irony, ‘I want you to do everything that Çağatay tells you to do and I will judge the outcome.’

Çağatay told Mert to stand up and strip. Fearing that he was about to be gang-raped, Mert finally snapped. ‘Oh, for God’s sake, just put a bullet through my head,’ he pleaded. ‘What the hell do you think you are doing with me?’

‘Shut up,’ Çağatay retorted. ‘You’ve got nothing to worry about. We’re not a bunch of shirt-lifters. Keep your boxers on and accept your punishment!’ On the phone to Şahin, Çağatay now scrawled the infa- mous piece of paper that branded Kier or Mert Ortaç a traitor and a snitch. This is how the myth of Kier was established. The journalist from Haber 7 had found Mert’s name on a website alongside the nick- name ‘Kier’. In fact, Mert had never, and would never, use this name – his real nick was SLayraCkEr. But after Çağatay took the photograph, journalists, police and carders around the world would refer to Mert Ortaç as Kier, even though he had never been called that in his life.

After the photo session, Mert was thrown down onto the floor again and the blanket was tossed over him. ‘Stay here for half an hour and then you can leave,’ Çağatay said. ‘We are leaving you your clothes and we won’t touch your money. You can also have one ID. From now on – for the rest of your life – don’t even think of writing the name Cha0, because if you do, I’ll have my hands round your neck before you take another breath.’ Finally Çağatay could not resist adding a personal note, ‘If it had been up to me, I would have killed you here and now. But the man likes you. Be grateful and keep your mouth shut.’ (Çağatay

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