Gambling was definitely not on the curriculum at Eton, but young John learned it anyway and enjoyed it. He became a compulsive gambler and won the nickname “Lucky” because of the rare times he won. The name may even have been ironic. He was at school, in the army and in the City of London, a small area within Greater London that is a major business and financial center, with rich men to whom placing a bet, on cards, dice or horses was a way of life. He was a frequent visitor at England’s race courses, many of which were a stone’s throw from London and became adept at poker and backgammon. In fact, by the late 1960s, he was probably one of the world’s top 10 backgammon players, and he enjoyed the prestige that the ranking gave him. Casinos were still illegal in London in the 1950s, but they were all the rage in Germany where Bingham had been with his regiment, so he turned easily to the games of chance—baccarat, roulette, blackjack and chemin de fer.
Richard John Bingham, 7th Earl of Lucan
passport photo
Once established in the City, of course, John had to be more discreet. He played bridge for low stakes because that was the acceptable side of card-playing. As soon as possible, he adopted a millionaire lifestyle, taking holidays in the Bahamas with a rich stockbroker friend, Stephen Raphael. He played poker with the Aga Khan, one of the richest men in the world and, as his more staid family became more and more alarmed, he became a professional gambler and gave up the day job.
New gaming laws in 1960 allowed private casinos to spring up, and one that became Bingham’s second home was the Clermont Club, set up by millionaire zoo owner John Aspinall, at 44 Berkeley Square, one of the most fashionable addresses in London and close to Lucan’s home. Older gentlemen’s clubs, some of which had been operating for 200 years, turned up their noses with the finely-tuned snobbery for which those establishments are famous, but Aspinall made the Clermont the place to be. It had expensive interior décor and, interestingly, no clocks. Here was a magic place where time did not exist, and that suited Lucan very well. As Aspinall cynically put it, “I wanted to create a place where English gentlemen could ruin themselves as stylishly and suicidally as their ancestors had done.”
Clermont Club, 44 Berkeley Square
Night after night, Lucky would sit at the tables, smoking and drinking heavily, winning or losing (but usually losing), acting as a magnet for the gullible who would enjoy playing with a lord. When he inherited the Lucan title in 1964, he was generally known as John Lucan, and the £240,000 ($562,000—well over $2.5 million today, allowing for inflation) that came with it, the lure and the prestige and the stakes all became higher.
Now, the man about town, member of the House of Lords, Old Etonian and ex-Brigade of Guards, looked for a wife to make his life complete.
www.crimescape.com