There had been no destructive rivalry between them. Beaumont had been the entrepreneur content to make his savings, his working hours, his whole life dependent upon the success and prosperity of this enterprise. Davies had never aspired to be more than a trusted employee. He had devoted his loyalty and all of his newly discovered and newly recognized retail talents towards the commercial exploitation of British wine. Gerry Davies relished his confounding of a job market which had once deemed him unfit for employment. It gave him additional satisfaction to be making a successful career by steadily expanding the distribution of English wine. This was a product which more distinguished business heads than his had once dismissed as frivolous and thus unsaleable.
In a different way from those of Detective Sergeant Bert Hook, the wife and two boys of Gerry Davies were also at once surprised and delighted by the achievements of the head of the family. Gerry’s children were much older than Bert’s. They had gone to university and were carving out careers of their own, but they became steadily more admiring of their father’s achievements.
Gerry Davies had the ability to work productively and to mix socially with men with very different backgrounds from his own, and that too had been part of his continuing success at Abbey Vineyards. Jason Knight, the chef behind the success of the restaurant, was a very different man from Davies. Unusually among those of his calling, he had an excellent education, including a university degree. He was also well travelled and had an interest in business practice, which gave him very different thoughts about the future of Abbey Vineyards from those of Gerry Davies.
Yet the two men had got on well from the start. They had formed an excellent working relationship, being prepared to exchange ideas quite frankly and to heed and learn from the other’s very different experiences and expertise. From this had grown a genuine friendship, a relish of each other’s company and a concern for their interests and happiness. They moved easily within each other’s areas without either feeling in any way threatened.
Thus Gerry Davies was delighted to see Jason Knight come into the shop area, even at eleven thirty, the busiest time on a busy Saturday morning. The younger man waited patiently whilst Gerry helped an overworked assistant at the Dog’s Whiskers beer pump. Then he said quietly, ‘I’d like a word with you, Gerry.’
‘Sure. I’ll make myself free in a moment.’
‘A rather longer word. Want to run one or two ideas past you.’
Gerry was pleased to hear the jargon. He still found it difficult to believe that his working ideas could be considered valuable by senior and successful people like Jason Knight. But Jason didn’t do bullshit. He must genuinely have something to discuss; he wouldn’t just go through the motions to be tactful. ‘OK. When do you suggest?’
‘Can you do a late lunch in my little den? Say two o’clock?’ Jason had insisted on having his own small private retreat at the end of the kitchens away from the restaurant, where he could escape to save his sanity and keep his temper in those trying times which beset every chef, and Martin Beaumont had sensibly granted it to him.
The older man grinned. ‘Sure I can. I’ll let my staff have their breaks at civilized times. They’ll think I’m being unselfish, waiting until two.’
Gerry spent the next part of his morning persuading a hesitant lady in late middle age that she really would enjoy a bottle of their cheapest rose. It took him slightly fewer minutes to organize the delivery of a dozen cases of their best current dry white to a fashionable restaurant in the Cotswolds. Only then did he have a moment to speculate about what it could be that was important enough to Jason for him to arrange such a meeting. Only the closest of friends or associates were ever invited into the den. Only something which was really engaging Jason’s attention would dictate an exchange there in the middle of a busy day.
Sometimes Bert Hook quite liked being at the station on Saturday mornings. He couldn’t admit to it at home, of course — he maintained the conventional attitude of the overworked and exploited public servant there — but he rather enjoyed being in Oldford nick with few people around, as was usual at a weekend, unless there was a major case to justify the overtime.
You could tidy up your paperwork without interruptions or, as he was doing on this occasion, utilize your developing computer knowledge to explore the Internet. He was consulting the Open University website, with particular reference to graduation ceremonies, when he found John Lambert looking over his shoulder.
Bert started a little guiltily and said grumpily, ‘I’m going to have to waste a day’s leave in May. Eleanor and the boys are insisting on attending the OU graduation ceremony, to see me parading in fancy dress.’
‘Quite right, too. I’ll need to take a day of my leave, too. I’ll have to confirm for myself that it’s really happened and old Bert’s made it at last.’
‘“Old Bert” can give you ten years, John Lambert. “Old Bert” isn’t operating on a special Home Office extension to his normal service.’
‘And “Old Bert” has been energetic enough and determined enough to study for six years in his own limited spare time and get himself a degree. Quite a distinguished degree, in my opinion. So much so that I absolutely insist on being present at the official recognition of your labour of Hercules.’
‘Bloody hell, John!’ A very mild expletive by police standards, but strong words for Bert Hook, who had eschewed all intemperate language since the birth of his first son. ‘This is getting out of hand.’ A happy escape suddenly presented itself to him. ‘I probably won’t be able to get tickets for everyone. They said in the letter that there was normally heavy demand and the supply was almost certain to be restricted.’
‘And it advises you here to make the earliest possible application for any extra tickets you might require.’ Lambert indicated a line towards the bottom of the screen. ‘Better get on with it, I’d say, Bert. Two extra tickets for Christine and myself. Try telling them an unbelieving chief superintendent needs to see the official confirmation of a copper’s achievement with his own eyes.’ He gazed into the middle distance. ‘I suppose I could always offer to take charge of security if there were real difficulties about getting in.’
Gerry Davies was thoroughly intrigued by Jason Knight’s mysterious summons. At two o’clock he proceeded cautiously to the chef’s den at the far side of his kitchen.
The lunchtime rush was almost over and Knight’s staff were winding down and preparing to close the restaurant and enjoy their own lunches. Jason had removed his chef’s hat and combed his dark-blond hair, but was still wearing his white overalls as he came into the small room which was his private domain. ‘Thanks for coming, Gerry. I know you’ll keep this to yourself — it’s not the sort of discussion either of us would want bandied about.’
‘This gets more intriguing by the minute. What is it that we need to be so cloak and dagger about?’
Jason grinned in that beguiling, almost schoolboyish way which was so engaging. ‘I take myself too seriously sometimes, don’t I? But I still think this is important to both of us.’
‘Then I’ve no doubt it is. I hope it’s nothing too difficult for a simple thick Welsh boy from the Rhondda.’
‘Don’t undersell yourself, Gerry. You’ve nothing left to prove. The company is doing well. Agreed?’
‘You’re better equipped to judge that than I am, Jason. But I think so, yes. Martin said it was at last month’s meeting, and from what I can see in the shop since then, we’re going from strength to strength.’
‘I would agree with that from what I see in the restaurant. But I think it’s Martin’s policy to keep us all a little in the dark about the success of the total enterprise. We each have a pretty good idea about what’s going on in our own section of the empire, but only the haziest notion of the overall progress of Abbey Vineyards.’