Chapter Twenty-Three
Simon Fairweather’s office was on the first floor of the new architect-designed Home Office. The Department had moved from the brutal, old Sir Basil Spence monstrosity near St James’s Park and was now situated in an ultra-modern building at Marsham Street.
As they passed under the multi-coloured glass roof canopy designed, so Rafferty understood from Llewellyn, by a Turner Prize-winner, which said it all for Rafferty, he elected to use the stairs so as to stretch his legs.
Alerted by reception, Simon Fairweather was waiting for them. ‘Inspector.’ He held out his hand and Rafferty shook it. ‘How can I help you this time?’
Rafferty waited until Fairweather had led them along the corridor to his own room and settled them in chairs facing his desk. There were as many p
