Park Lane No 32 (1989) <2026>

"The surveyors will be here at noon, Arthur," his sister, Eleanor, said from the doorway. She was already dressed for the city, her shoulder pads sharp enough to cut glass.

"They’ll call it 'redevelopment,'" Arthur replied without turning. "But we both know it’s an autopsy." Park Lane No 32 (1989)

: No. 32 specifically sits in an area of Mayfair that has seen various reconstruction projects throughout the 20th century. "The surveyors will be here at noon, Arthur,"

The year 1989 was a season of shifting tectonic plates for London’s elite. At , the heavy mahogany doors stood as the last line of defense against the neon-lit rush of the late eighties. Inside, the air tasted of expensive cigar smoke and the faint, metallic tang of the nearby Underground. "But we both know it’s an autopsy

As the clock struck twelve, the doorbell rang. It wasn't a butler who answered, but a young man in a power suit with a cellular phone the size of a brick. The era of the grand private residence at Park Lane No. 32 was ending, and the era of the luxury corporate suite was about to begin.