In Vino Veritas by J. M. Gregson Page B

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.’
    â€˜Sure. I’ll make myself free in a moment.’
    â€˜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?’
    â€˜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 rosé. 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