Testing time for Marco

New staff were hired to cope with the expected upsurge in business. The basement kitchen became suddenly crowded with the two chefs, four cooks and washingup people. Upstairs, new waiters joined the Wheeler's veterans who had been kept on. The popular manager and maitre d' remained, but his front-of-house duties were taken over by MPW's sister-in-law, Annabel, his wife Mati's sister.

There was an air of excitement about the old place when it reopened. To the longserving staff, Marco appeared as a saviour. One told me: "At that time, we thought the world of him. 'Call me Marco,' he used to say to everyone. He told us about his poor childhood, how he had fought his way to the top, and he made us feel we could achieve anything."

Michael Winner popped in. Other famous names followed, The head chef, who had been at The Belvedere, was first class and understood the demands of the regular clientele, drawn mainly from the art galleries of Bury Street and the outfitters of Jermyn Street.

Things seemed to be going well, but the kitchen could only cope with 30 people at a time. This number of covers could produce only a limited amount of revenue, or GP - gross profit - as it's know in the restaurant trade. But Wheeler's now had a massive overhead. The rent had gone up and the staff bill alone was costing around £36,000 a month. It was decided to put the prices up. Massively.

A smoked salmon starter in the old Wheeler's used to cost £7.95. Now it was £12.95. Soup had been £6, now it cost £9. The price of desserts was doubled to £8. Main courses were increased, but by a lower percentage. The wine list was upgraded.

"Before Marco, two people could eat at Wheeler's for about £80. After we reopened, you would be looking at closer to £200," an inside source said.

Even at these prices, there was anxiety over whether it was working. The insider told me: "Marco was on the phone all the time at the beginning. He would say: 'How many covers? How much are you taking?'" Annabel and her staff were working flat out, but after six months or so, MPW's calls became less frequent.

"He seemed more preoccupied with his other ventures," the source said. MPW's interests range far and wide. Currently, he is involved in some of London's top restaurants and a string of other eateries that use his name. Frankie's, The Criterion and Mirabelle all have MPW associations, although his personal involvement is not always clear.

Other big names that have carried the Marco name include Harvey's, the Hyde Park Hotel, the Belvedere and Drone's. A search at Companies House reveals that he is, or has been, director of more than a dozen companies. He is not a director, however, of Valefox, the company that bought Wheeler's.

It is not easy to unravel Valefox. The records show a paper trail that ultimately reveals the shareholders to be Marco Pierre White and a company registered in the Virgin Islands. Valefox, which bought Wheeler's, also took the lease on the restaurant's premises. This was to be at the centre of a legal row.

In the summer of 2004, half the staff was sacked. The rest were told the restaurant was being taken over by Matthew Brown, a brilliant young chef who had worked for MPW at The Belvedere. Our investigation shows that Brown and his wife Lisa acquired Wheelers for their company, Chester-grove Management, for a nominal sum, but under the agreement they would pay MPW's Valefox a monthly amount.

Brown threw himself into his restaurant. It was the first he'd owned, he told Wheeler's staff, and it would be only the beginning. Like Marco, he said, he would own many more.

He worked like a madman. For a year it went well. He carried the staff with him and it looked as if Wheeler's had been saved, although Madonna never did show up. Then, in July last year, the London bombings impacted on the West End restaurant trade. Bookings fell. At Wheeler's, cutbacks led to the loss of yet more staff. By November, Brown was toiling virtually alone in his basement kitchen.

Christmas came and went. The staff sensed that Brown was flagging. How much longer could they keep going?

Then, in January, the restaurant's landlord, a company called Plan B Investments, launched legal action. Its lawyers claimed Valefox had broken the terms of its lease and demanded possession of the premises.

In the early morning of 31 January, Chris Locke, a 40-year-old motorcycle courier who works in St James's, saw a light-coloured van outside Wheeler's. He said: "There were at least six guys. I saw them take tables, chairs, some expensive-looking kitchen utensils and some big pans."

When the bailiffs, Dorman and Co, arrived, Wheeler's was bare. Light fittings, mirrors, furniture - everything had gone. Matthew Brown turned up and asked the bailiffs if he could retrieve knives and clothing he had left behind. He was refused and went away empty-handed. He won't talk about Wheeler's now and when I phoned him he reacted nervously. "I owe my loyalty to Marco," he said, and hung up.

Now, litigation has begun between the landlord and Valefox. MPW's spokesman said Marco could say nothing until he had consulted his lawyers.

Marco was back in St James's this week at his new restaurant, Luciano. He was holding court as usual, although the crowds that used to surround him had thinned out. The restaurant was half full, the bar empty, and Marco cut a rather dejected figure, shaggy and unshaven. Around the corner, Wheeler's was dark and deserted. It was hard to resist the thought that they have both known better times.