CHAPTER 23
Our second appointment that day was at the offices of Gridiron Equity Investments in a Mayfair backstreet. From the outside, the address looked a bit shabby. But, once inside, everything was expensive, in fine taste though old fashioned right down to the fitted carpets with a Victorian Empire design woven into the thick pile. With the exception of a middle-aged woman at reception, the place seemed deserted.
"We have a meeting with Ms Snowden," I said to her. "Four p.m. We spoke on the phone."
She consulted her computer screen. This woman didn't conform to the pattern I'd become used to. Not young, not pretty, not elegantly dressed. Rather the schoolmistress type. Prim and proper.
"Ah, yes," she drawled and handed me a thin binder holding a set of forms. "Please fill them out
