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Warning: Graphic content
I walked along a tree-lined street in a quiet area of Istanbul and approached a cream-coloured villa, decked with CCTV cameras.
A year ago, an exiled Saudi journalist took the same journey. Jamal Khashoggi was caught on CCTV. It would be the last image of him.
He entered the Saudi consulate and was murdered by an assassination squad.
But the consulate was bugged by Turkish intelligence - the planning and the execution were all recorded. The tapes have only been heard by very few people. Two of those people have now spoken exclusively to the BBC's Panorama programme.
British barrister Baroness Helena Kennedy listened to Jamal Khashoggi's dying moments.
"The horror of listening to somebody's voice, the fear in someone's voice, and that you're listening to something live. It makes a shiver go through your body."
Kennedy made detailed notes of the conversations she heard between members of the Saudi hit squad.
"You can hear them laughing. It's a chilling business. They're waiting there knowing that this man is going to come in and he's going to be murdered and cut up."
Kennedy was invited to join a team headed by Agnès Callamard, the UN's special rapporteur for extrajudicial killing.
Callamard, a human rights expert, told me of her determination to use her own mandate to probe the killing, when the UN proved reluctant to mount an international criminal investigation.
It took her a week to persuade Turkish intelligence to let her and Kennedy, along with their Arabic translator, listen to the tapes.
"The intention clearly on the part of Turkey to give me access, was to help me prove planning and premeditation," she says.
They were able to listen to 45 minutes, extracted from recordings made on two crucial days.
Jamal Khashoggi had been in Istanbul - a city where opponents of regimes across the Middle East have long sought refuge - for a few weeks before he was killed.
The 59-year-old divorced father of four had recently become engaged to Hatice Cengiz, a Turkish academic researcher.
They were hoping to build their life together in this cosmopolitan city, but to remarry, Khashoggi needed his divorce papers.
On 28 September, he and Cengiz visited the Turkish municipal office but were told they needed to get the papers from the Saudi consulate.
"This was the last resort. He had to go and get those documents from the consulate for us to get officially married because he couldn't go back to his country," Cengiz tells me when I meet her in a cafe.
Khashoggi hadn't always been an outcast, exiled from his own country. I met him 15 years ago at the Saudi embassy in London's Mayfair. He was then at the heart of the Saudi establishment - a smooth-talking aide to the ambassador.
We discussed a recent terror attack by al-Qaeda. Khashoggi had known its Saudi leader, Osama bin Laden, for decades. Initially Khashoggi had some sympathy for al-Qaeda's aim to overthrow autocratic Middle Eastern regimes. But later, he spoke out against the group's atrocities as his views became more liberal and he championed democracy.
In 2007, he returned home to edit the pro-government newspaper al-Watan. But he was fired three years later for what he described as "pushing the boundaries of debate within Saudi society".
By 2011, inspired by the events of the Arab Spring, Khashoggi was speaking out against what he saw as the repressive and autocratic Saudi regime. By 2017 he had been banned from writing and went into self-imposed exile in America. His wife was forced to divorce him.
Khashoggi became a contributor for the Washington Post, for whom he wrote 20 hard-hitting columns in the year before he died.
"When he was an editor in the Kingdom he would cross red lines," says his friend David Ignatius, the Post's senior foreign affairs columnist and investigative journalist. "What I saw with Jamal was that he kept getting himself in trouble by speaking his mind."
https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-middle-east-49826905
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Now we understand why Prince Muhammad Bin Salman was so candid with an American news channel PBS. It was fixed match to get the information out before the shit hit the fan.
