Push in the oddly ribbed key a notch to light up the dash and the gauges galvanise into life.
One more notch and the starter whirs, and a long way forward, in the front of the engine bay, the cast one-piece, broad-bladed cooling fan slowly begins to rotate.
Suddenly, all eight cylinders crack simultaneously into life and the long, tall slab of an engine settles to a rapid, busy tickover.
As it warms, you can lift a little ignition advance with the lever on the right of the dash, to raise tickover speed and chivvy the warm-up along, until you rev it, when the blower squeals like a pack of hyenas.
The Bugatti Type 101’s serrated key wakes the supercharged engine
It’s a Bugatti all right – even the swoopy, 1950s coupé body style can’t detract from the famous horseshoe grille up front.
But it looks out of place, giving conflicting messages: just what kind of a Bugatti is this; what era; what year?
It’s a Bugatti Type 101. Only six were made, in 1951.
Hadn’t Bugatti gone down the tubes by then? After all, Ettore Bugatti had departed to the great engineering shop in the sky four years earlier, on 21 August 1947.