Here we have the gallant Richard John Bingham, 7th Earl of Lucan. Lord Lucan…“Lucky”Lucan to his coterie of chance games friends.
The dashing Lucan eventually eschewed the ennui of traditional work for what he felt was a more thrilling method for generating dosh…gambling. Lucan had annual income from various family trusts but I suppose like other landed aristocrats, he needed to supplement it. So after the Guards, he took a position with the merchant bank, William Brandt's Sons and Co. After winning twenty six thousand pounds in two nights playing Chemin de Fer, Lucan declared "why should I work in a bank when I can earn a year's money in one single night at the tables?"
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I reckon, in addition to my absence of Lucan caliber dashing good looks and my now missing aristocratic papers, the other huge difference between Lucky and me is that I’m the worst gambler in the world. I saw Las Vegas, reluctantly last week but my money’s safe ‘cause I didn't go near the gaming tables.
Happy endings are probably rare in the lives of professional gamblers...titled ones notwithstanding. Debt laden, amidst a contentious divorce and custody battle for his three children, it is presumed that the maniacally desperate Lucan himself was the bag-man who broke in to (he had a key) the family home on a November evening in 1974 at 46 Upper Berkeley Street and beat to death the family nanny. He also took a few good whacks at Lady Lucan, his supposed true intended victim.
So how the hell did I happen upon Lucan? It all came about when I was doing an internet search on the unknown to me, bespoke tailoring establishment, Cooling Lawrence and Wells. I’d never heard of them and was amidst reconnaissance as I was perilously close to pouncing on a velvet smoking jacket that according to the ebay seller’s measurements...was just my size. My appetite for velvet jacketings is well documented but I've always stayed away from the tricked out versions. Why have things that, as my Cousin Willie says, are for "parties that you no longer get invited to."
Tricked out versions? You know, one of those jackets with the really cool frogging…rope adorned sleeves and those twee little Siamese twin front closure buttons that say… “Even though you’ve seen my likes every time you’ve been in London, YOU of all people have no business buying one of me at full-retail. And you’ve even got less business buying one of my double breasted cousins.”
Ok, point well-made but an ebay bargain ain’t ever out of the question or out of bounds. Shut up. So my research was important as I made a decision regarding what my maximum-minimum bids would be.
I searched Cooling Lawrence and Wells and the outcome was almost nil regarding the tailoring firm. None the less, the Lord Lucan smarmy back story bounty was enough to keep me enthralled for half-a-day. It seems that C-L&W were Lucan’s go-to tailor as well as his source for maintenance of his coronation robes.
It seems that Lucan left quite a few of his suppliers in the lurch when he vanished. Lucan’s tailor wasn’t the only creditor lined up in the queue seeking relief once it was fait accompli regarding the likelihood that the old boy wasn’t gonna come round and square up any of his debts. Interestingly though, C-L&W decided that the coronation robes represented better collateral against Lucan’s debt than some silly old judgement. Smart they were.
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Armed with my imagination, a trove of superficial information about Lucan and the confidence that the Velveeta avec frogging jacket was surely my size, I set my bid. Surely if the jacket had been made by Huntsman or Kilgour or Poole, I'd have set my bid slightly higher. Maddox Street...off the Row and unknown to me doesn't mean that the jacket ain't gonna be keen in every way. But I was treading in unknown, albeit fuzzy as hell, water.
And it fits like a damn glove.
January 1976 saw its completion and my imagination wants me to believe that perhaps Lord Lucky's coronation robes remained somewhere on the premises, in fellowship for a while, with my jacket.
Onward. No Christmas tree this year. No ho.
ADG…Deuce