For Sale: 2004 Mercedes-Benz 600 in Katwijk, Netherlands

There is a misconception that the pinnacle of Mercedes was to be found mostly in the S-Class. Not quite true. The real statement, the car the engineers in Stuttgart poured their finest work into and the board their egos, was the CL. The coupe without a B-pillar, built on the platform of the S but without the drag of rear doors, without the compromise of "we also need to be able to ferry a cabinet minister in it." The CL was for the man who drove himself, and who wanted the best. Full stop. And within that CL family there was another hierarchy. At the bottom the 500 with its V8, tidy, more than enough. And then at the top, all on its own, wearing a badge that whispered "V12" and kept quiet about "two turbos": the CL 600. Six litres. Twelve cylinders. And a torque figure that stood out mainly because you never heard it, only felt it, somewhere deep in the pit of your stomach when the motorway was empty and you briefly forgot you were sitting in a car of almost two tonnes and two metres wide. I have always had a soft spot for the W215. Not because it shouts, because it never does. In fact, the remarkable thing about a CL 600 is precisely that it stays silent. Where an Italian delivers a crescendo you would need a season ticket to the Royal Albert Hall for, this twelve-cylinder does the opposite. It whispers. A soft, civilised murmur, and then suddenly you are fifty kilometres per hour faster without a shred of drama being involved. That is the art. Violence disguised as comfort. Right, back to the car in question. The CL 600 offered here is a 2004 example, in metallic black, with a leather interior and a history that, to be honest, made me fall a little in love when I went through the folders. Because this is not a car that has been passed from hand to hand across half of Europe. This is a car that was serviced at the dealer its entire life, meticulously, every two years, and most of those stamps come from the same garage in Bretten, Germany. S&G Automobil AG, year after year, right down to the details. Spark plugs, mass airflow sensors, charcoal filters, brake fluid, serpentine belt, everything a V12 needs to grow old gracefully, and then a little extra on top. It is precisely that kind of file that makes a V12 of this generation worthwhile. Because let us be honest: a neglected twelve-cylinder is a money pit with a leather lining. Not this one. This one has been kept in good order from kilometre eleven to today, with invoices that leave no room for doubt. The equipment is what you would expect from a range-topper of that era, and then some. An emergency call system, at a time when the rest of Britain was still driving around with a Nokia 3310 on the passenger seat. Michelins all round, nineteen inches, wide enough to keep those two tonnes on the road with authority. And that interior, where the real substance lies: the finest part comes the moment you step in and pull the door shut with that distinctive, heavy, muffled plop that you no longer find in any modern car, because nobody is willing to pay what it costs anymore. It drives the way a car of this calibre ought to drive. Imperturbable. You cover the distance from Dover to Z�rich without your back noticing a thing, with the comfort level of a First Class cabin, only with five hundred bhp under your right foot for when you get bored. This is a car for the man who has achieved enough to have nothing left to prove, and for exactly that reason drives the best there is. Granted, by today's standards it is not economical, not small, and not modest in insurance costs. But it is something you can hardly buy anymore: a genuine, meticulously maintained German V12 coupe, from the last generation still assembled by hand rather than by an algorithm. Once worth the price of a decent house, now a fraction of that. Twelve cylinders whispering, and nobody hearing it but you. **Special features** - Mercedes-Benz CL 600 (W215) from 2004, the V12 flagship of the CL family - 5998 cc biturbo V12