‘I’m expecting a couple of friends. I suspect we will eat something.’

‘I’ll just replenish your sauces and things then, sir,’ she said.

She cleared the table and disappeared for a moment before returning with a freshly-filled condiment box that had new bottles of sauce and more napkins.

‘Just let me know when you’d like to order, sir.’ She smiled as she put the box on the table.

Simon couldn’t stand places like that with their faux rustic themes. It was all so pretentious, but the location was perfect for his purposes that evening.

Taylor yawned and checked his watch again: 7:10. He sighed in frustration and looked at the diners on the next table: a foursome of two men and two women, all casually dressed, all quite young, and all tucking into average looking burgers with chips served in wire baskets reminiscent of chip fryers. He shook his head ever so slightly at the whole ridiculousness of it all.

His thoughts were halted at the sight of Jones and Albrechtsen stood looking around on the terrace, scanning for him. Albrechtsen was a huge man, overweight and sporting a bushy, greying beard. He was casually dressed in jeans and a bomber jacket. Jones was much smaller, almost petite, and was smartly dressed in a blue suit sporting small, round spectacles. He looked every inch the accountant, which had worked well for him over the years as he was a skilled investigator and ruthless operator.

Taylor gave the pair a brief wave and they walked over, serious-faced, and sat directly opposite Taylor. Neither looked happy and both looked concerned.

‘So, what’s the deal then, Simon? You’ve got us worried,’ Albrechtsen said in his deep, rich voice.

‘Come on, boys, drinks first. I’ll have another pint.’ Taylor smiled, keen to establish control of the meeting. They had been equals at SOCA but Albrechtsen and Jones had not gone further whereas he’d been promoted.

They scowled and went off together to the bar to get the drinks, whispering conspiratorially as they walked.

Taylor allowed himself a small, satisfied smile at this minor display of power. It was likely that they would be a bit pissed off when they learnt the extent of the situation, so a display of control early on would prove essential.

They reappeared after about five minutes, both clutching drinks. Albrechtsen also carried Taylor’s pint, which he set down in front of him.

All of them took sips of their pints and then Albrechtsen and Jones sat back in their chairs expectantly.

Taylor took another long pull on his beer, set it down on the table, and fixed each man with a brief stare.