And so, farewell to Stephen (name changed to protect the identity in case the coppers are in tow), Budapest’s answer to Arthur Daley. He is finally, for the last time, honest governor, leaving town to go back to London, where he will probably be exchanging large dollops of filthy lucre with shady-looking characters up back alleys for a living.
Stephen is the man whose various enterprises have included flying to Switzerland to fill his suitcase up with duty-free fags to sell on in the UK, driving a Rolls Royce across Europe to flog it in Budapest (still looking for a buyer) and various other slightly-dubious-but-probably-not-worth-a-year-in-jail-locked-up-with-a-serial-killer type transactions.
If Budapest wasn’t so hot, he would have been wearing a sheepskin jacket.
Thanks for the farewell barbecue, Stefan, I mean Stephen, and I look forward to seeing you in handcuffs on TV being taking to jail after defrauding some rich middle-class old lady out of her nest egg.