Introducing James Johnstone, the ‘rich fixer’

Who would you turn to when organising a party for a millionaire, bugging a house, or rescuing first-rate supercars from the Malaysian jungle?

When the time comes, dear reader, to hand a super injunction to the cartel that has decided to blackmail you, you’ll need to prepare a few things.

First, a glass-fronted and open plan restaurant on a major high street in London. Next, a couple of plain-clothed police officers to sit in its dining room, a few yards away from your hulking head of security. At the same time, you’ll need to come to a small financial arrangement with the restaurant owner so that the waiters can be replaced with your own people, and so that the back exits can be cleared from clutter and a friendly black cab can idle in the alleyway behind the building.

Meanwhile, you’ll need to position two of your men – tatty and squabbling yet unobtrusive – on the bench outside so that they can profile everyone who’s coming in and out between swigs from fake cans of Amstel (or similar continental lager of your choosing). Finally, you’ll want your adversary to sit down, when he does sit down, in a very low chair with a deep cushion and a high back – tough, you’ll notice, to get out of in a hurry should things turn shooty.

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