"Where are we meeting chinless? " said Bodie , spinning the Capri on it's axis
" One of his poncey clubs " replied Doyle " Either Boodles or Blacks"
" Nahh , it was Annabella's wasn't it? " ventured Bodie. He wasn't averse to posh totty and apparently Annabellas was wall-to-wall crumpet.
He pictured himself sidling up to Joanna or Tamsin and giving them his rough-hewn charm . These posh birds always liked a bit of rough and there were few rougher than Bodie.
"Nahh , it's Blacks " said Doyle. Bodie eased the Capri up Shaftesbury Avenue and turned into Dean Street. The Doorman knew his stuff , took the keys and made damn sure the Capri was parked up securely. Barely six months out of stir , he knew the fuzz when he saw it.
"Nice" observed Bodie as he entered the oak panelled reception. The concierge was on the spot too , silently approaching the pair. He too had a chequered past and knew these two were connected to the F.O and therefore worthy of the grade A treatment.
"If you would care to follow me , Mr Rowland-Jenkins is waiting in the members library"
Tarquin rose to greet them . He was a different proposition in his own element and would not be as easily bamboozled.
"Gentlemen , Thank you for making time to meet up outside office hours " said Tarquin.
"Nuts to that " thought Bodie " Time and a half for this caper . Cowley wasn't going to stand still for double bubble "
"Nice place " started Doyle " Certainly beats my local Boozer"
"Indeed" replied Tarquin " It has a certain ambience"
"That's handy in case someone gets hurt " cracked Bodie and immediately regretted it
" You're worried about a mole" Doyle pressed on " You want help from CI5. Whats wrong with 9?"
"Ahh , well now that's a bit of a sticky wicket" Tarquin was uncomfortable " It turns out that 9 isn't as pukka as it might be"
"Pukka?" asked Bodie " Don't tell me someone in the hallowed halls is bowling googlies instead of playing a straight bat" He was deliberately trying to wind Tarquin up
" You might say that " replied Tarquin " To put it in your own vernacular, it seems that someone on the inside is as bent as a nine bob note!"
" What sort of bent ?" advanced Doyle " Are we talking power to the workers or bank account in the Bahamas?"
" Some form of honey trap , I'll warrant " mused Tarquin " Some well endowed doxy from the translation pool given carte blanche. Hard to tell but the compass is pointing east at the moment , old chaps"
Bodie was momentarily halted with visions of well endowed doxies. Doyle went on
" You want some clean hands …someone who doesn't know the Eton Boating song?"
"Quite " said Tarquin " Mr Cowley promised full co-operation"
" That's us then !" said Bodie " So who's the toe rag ?"
"Alleged Toe rag!" corrected Doyle
Tarquin rolled his eyes . It was going to be a long night.