The widening pay gulf now separating the 2000-or-so multimillionaire partners of the Big Four accountancy firms from their underlings is becoming a sore point in beancounting circles. But what do the galley slaves expect?

One subversive auditor who shall remain nameless - lest he be discovered sleeping with the fishes - has noted the similarity between the quartet and New York's mafia families.

Bear with us. Fans of The Sopranos will recognise the trading model.

Recruits begin as humble "soldiers" (trainees) working in "crews" (audit, tax, corporate finance). They make it their life's ambition to "get made" (partner).

In the meantime they must "kick up" a substantial portion of the profits they generate in tribute to their "capo" (departmental head). In turn, a disproportionate wedge of that folding stuff is trousered by the first among equals - the "capo di tutti capi" - otherwise known as the UK senior partner.

We could go on, and why not. Whenever there is an issue of common interest - audit liability say - the heads of the "families" (firms) get together for "a sitdown". Such a forum might be dubbed "The Ruling Commission".

Of course Big Four partners and their subordinates are noble, law-abiding chaps to a man (and occasionally woman). But the analogy is not entirely spurious. La Cosa Nostra did after all begin life "running the numbers game". Despite the "value-added" (sic) bells and whistles, that's still what accountancy is about. That and making eyewatering sums of money.

Why did ex-CBI chief Digby Jones join Deloitte, after all? Because they made him an offer he couldn't refuse.

He's a good fella.

God's own county an acquired taste CITY wags facetiously casting newish Morrisons chief executive Marc Bolland in the role of Granville to septuagenarian Sir Ken Morrison's Arkwright must think again.

Bolland was trusted to go it alone in last week's conference call with hacks about the supermarket group's Christmas trading figures. Whether Bolland "fetched his cloth" is not recorded.

The paterfamilias was apparently "in the building" but not minded to talk to us. Mucking out his pigeons maybe.

But enough of that. With Morrisons forging ahead, such condescension is now spectacularly inappropriate. Indeed, the laconic Yorkshireman would have been excused for thumbing his nose at the polenta-munching Jocastas and Tarquins who doubted his ability to spread Morrisons' appeal when he had the effrontery to swallow Safeway. One of them even had a go at the fact that his senior staff wear short-sleeved shirts. A frightful fashion faux pas, that, in downtown Haslemere.

Happily, it seems they do like meat pies in the Home Counties after all.

Well, I'll go to t'foot of our stairs.

How the mighty are fallen TALKING of Yorkshire, erstwhile Top Man executive Peter Ridsdale's financial demolition of Leeds United was grim news for Scotland.

Think of the titans of the national team who have also graced the Elland Road sod - Bremner, Gray, Lorimer, Jordan, McQueen, McAllister, Gray again (Frank), Strachan - even George McCluskey.

Well, alright, not George McCluskey.

But who better to resurrect the ailing Championship club than self-confessed Leeds nut Colin Montgomerie, who fetched up this week at Aberdeen Asset Management's London office to plug a sponsorship deal?

A grinning Monty told sports hacks to belt up about him being the "best golfer never to win a major" and talk about "something really important, like Leeds".

but could be picked up again Business Diary - also a Leeds nut - seized the opportunity to ask Montgomerie if he had ever considered picking up the phone to Ken Bates and buying the club. After all, if Graeme Souness can buy Wolves The grin swiftly metamorphosed into a grimace and for once the garrulous Monty was nearly speechless. "Well I suppose if they get relegated again they'll be cheap," he gloomily mused.

if only the price was right SO the cheque book is staying in Monty's sporran, but don't blame us for reinforcing national stereotypes.

Aberdeen chief executive Martin Gilbert joked that negotiations with Colin had proved fraught, because "after all we are both Scots and I'm from Aberdeen". Cue great hilarity among the English scribblers.

You'll have had your tee, Colin.

Businessdiary@theherald.co.uk