They were greeted effusively by a liveried doorman in a top hat. ‘Good evening, gentlemen!’ he said with a soft Irish accent.
‘The Wolseley restaurant?’ Grace asked, feeling a little out of place here.
‘Absolutely! Very nice to see you both!’ He held the door open and gestured them through.
Grace, followed by Branson, stepped inside. There was a small crowd of people clustered around a reception desk. A waiter hurried past with a tray laden with cocktails, into a vast, domed and galleried dining room, elegantly themed in black and white, and packed with people. There was a noisy buzz. He looked around for a moment. It had an old-world Belle Epoque grandeur about it, yet at the same time it felt intensely modern. The waiting staff were all dressed in hip black and most of the clientele looked cool. He decided Cleo would like this place. Maybe he would bring her up for a night in London and come here. Although he thought he had better check out the prices first.
A young woman receptionist smiled at them, then a tall man, with fashionably long and tangled ginger hair, greeted them. ‘Gentlemen, good evening. Can I help you?’
‘We’re meeting Mr Taylor.’
‘Mr Phil Taylor?’
‘Yes.’
He pointed at a bar area, off to the side. ‘He’s in there, gentlemen, first table on the right! We’ll take you to him!’
As Grace entered the bar, he saw a man in his early forties, wearing a yellow polo shirt and blue chinos, looking up at him expectantly.
‘Mr Taylor?’
‘Aye!’ He half stood up. ‘Detective Superintendent Grace?’ He spoke in a distinct Yorkshire accent.
‘Yes. And Detective Sergeant Branson.’ Grace studied him fleetingly, weighing him up on first impression. He was relaxed and fit-looking, a tiny bit overweight, with a pleasant open face, a sunburnt nose, thinning fair hair and alert, very keen eyes. No flies on this man, he thought instantly. A set of car keys, with a Ferrari emblem on the fob, was lying on the table in front of the man next to a tall glass, containing a watery-looking cocktail with a sprig of mint in it.
‘Very pleased to make your acquaintance, gentlemen. Have a seat. Can I get you a drink? I can recommend the Mojitos, they’re excellent.’ He waved a hand to summon a waiter.
‘I’m driving – I’ll have a Diet Coke,’ Branson said.
‘The same,’ Grace said, although, still faced with the nightmare of the drive back with Branson, he could have used a pint of single malt. ‘We’ll pay for these, sir. It’s very good of you to see us at such short notice,’ Grace began.
‘It’s not a problem. How can I help you?’
‘Can I ask you how long you have known Brian Bishop?’ Branson said, putting his pad down on the table.
Grace watched the movement of the man’s eyes, as he thought.
‘About six years – yes – almost exactly six years.’
Branson noted this down.
‘Am I under caution?’ Phil Taylor asked, only half in jest.
‘No,’ Branson replied. ‘We’re just here to try to confirm some times with you.’
‘I did give them to one of your officers yesterday. What exactly is the problem? Is Brian in trouble?’
‘We’d rather not say too much at the moment,’ Grace replied.
‘How did you meet him?’ Branson asked.
‘At a P1 meeting.’
‘P1?’
‘It’s a club for petrol heads that Damon Hill – the racing driver – former world champion – runs. You pay an annual subscription and get the use of various sports cars. We met at one of their cocktail parties.’
Eyeing the key fob, Glenn Branson asked, ‘Is that your Ferrari, around the corner in Arlington Street?’
‘The 430? Yes – but that’s my own car.’
‘Nice,’ Branson said. ‘Nice motor.’
‘Be even nicer without all your damned speed cameras!’
‘Can you give us a little bit of background about yourself, Mr Taylor?’ Grace asked, not rising to the bait.
‘Me? I qualified as a chartered accountant, then I spent fifteen years with the Inland Revenue, most of it on their Special Investigations team. Looking into tax abuse scams, mostly. Through it I saw how much money the IFA community – the Independent Financial Advisers – made. I decided that’s what I should be doing. So I set up Taylor Financial Planning. Never looked back. Wasn’t long after I started that I met Brian. He became one of my first clients.’
