内容摘要：Thea Green, chief executive of beauty brand Nails Inc, told the BBC her company had a major launch coming up and she was nervous about it, given the problems at M&S.

Thea Green, chief executive of beauty brand Nails Inc, told the BBC her company had a major launch coming up and she was nervous about it, given the problems at M&S.

When I entered Syria a week ago hundreds of cars full of despondent and scared families with some link to the regime, who believed they would be in danger in the new Syria, were leaving, queuing to get over the border into Lebanon. At the same time hundreds were driving in the opposite direction, desperate to get home.Eventually there might be a legal process to prosecute Bashar al-Assad, members of his family and some of those who carried guns for the regime. Gathering evidence would be part of that. But the exodus in the last hours of the regime and in the confused days and nights that followed means that it will be hard to get to the people responsible.

At Saydnaya prison, families wander through the building, desperate for information, searching for those they've lost, horrified by everything they are seeing. Just being in Saydnaya's cells and corridors, freezing cold in December, reinforces a widespread desire to see the punishment of everyone implicated in the Assad regime's crimes.A group of men gathered in the prison yard, smoking silently, some leafing through files that they had picked up off the ground. All those I spoke to said that the future must be built on justice for the past. The men in the group, all looking for missing, sons, brothers and cousins, called Saydnaya a mass grave. They want the head of Bashar al-Assad, literally. They murmured agreement when one of them said he had to be decapitated.One of them, a young man called Ahmed, said he knew the brother he was searching for was alive because he could see him in his dreams. Ahmed himself had spent three years in Saydnaya.

"It was so bad, the torture, the food, everything. We were suffering."Mohammed Khalaf, an older man, had been searching for his son Jabr since he was dragged from the family breakfast table by thugs from one of the state's intelligence agencies in 2014.

"We are many. People came from Qamishli, Hasaka, Deir al-Zour, Al Raqqa looking for our loved ones. Thousands are still in the streets looking for their children. It's not just me."

Inside one of the cell blocks, young men from Aleppo were warming themselves on a fire that they had lit in a metal tin, burning old prison uniforms that are scattered around every cell. They were looking for brothers who had been detained and then disappeared."He said that he wanted to be one of the biggest artists in the world and it didn't matter if I believed him or not," remembers Jimmy Maynes, a former Uptown colleague.

Maynes remembers Combs having a short fuse in the office, sometimes banging "his hands up against the desk" like a "bratty kid" and yelling if he did not get his way.Combs was eventually fired from Uptown and at the age of 23 started Bad Boy Records.

"He's the hardest working man that I've ever met and always wanted people to match his energy," says Daniel Evans, a senior executive who managed Bad Boy's recording budgets and artists' contracts between 1994 and 1997.Combs described himself as the "Great Gatsby" and swiftly became known for hosting coveted celebrity bashes at New York nightclubs, on the beaches of Cancun, Mexico, and later infamous "White Parties" - named after the all-white dress code - in the Hamptons.