Shortly before my encounter with surely London's zaniest financier, Pierre Lagrange sends a mischievous message. He has had "another cool idea". We are to scrap the plan to meet in his Mayfair club. Instead we should lunch at his tailor — and it is his tailor. It is six years since he startled the worlds of fashion and finance by buying Huntsman, then the stuffiest of gentleman's outfitters. I am, he says, to go to the boardroom, which was "totally wrecked" in an action sequence in the second Kingsman spy movie.

So it is that on a hot summer's day

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