Chapter Eleven - 1976

Carter & Company


(Equivalent to 27 pages in hard copy)


Carter & Company UK was formally established at the beginning of 1976.


Why are containers such an attractive investment? A container is a tangible asset, not a piece of paper. Containers are handled carefully, tracked precisely, and maintained diligently – the contents are the most valuable part of the shipment. The working life of a container can be considerably longer than fifteen years, and then its life as a housing unit or portable office begins. These are reasons enough to be into containers. However, in the United Kingdom, the reasons become almost unbelievable.


An accountant directs my attention to an archaic tax law. The law relates back to the Gloucester Railway Carriage Act of 1893. In that year, the railway wanted to expand by adding rolling stock. To encourage private investors to invest in carriages that would then be leased to the railroad company, the Government allowed the entire capital cost of the equipment to be offset against an individual’s gross income. Therefore costing the individual virtually nothing. This is known as granting Capital Allowances.


And, as long as the individual was not “trading in the business of leasing” directly, the income from the leasing was treated as ordinary, not investment, income. The Gloucester Railway Company had grown like topsy.


Almost holding my breath, I formally sought the opinion of Queen’s Counsel to determine if today’s shipping containers could be treated as yesterday’s railway carriages under the laws of the UK’s Inland Revenue. As we sold containers that were leased via Trans Container Services, CATU, or the like to shipping lines, and, as, therefore, the investors who bought these containers through us were not “trading,” would the Capital Allowances, and the treatment of ordinary income apply?


The formal, written opinion came back… “Yes!”


The implications to high-net-worth/high-investment-income individuals were monumental. Investors could acquire from one to hundreds of containers at virtually no cost and enjoy an income that averaged a return of sixteen per cent on the capital!


Carter & Company UK was on its way. While we had a good base of operations in Belgium, France, Germany, the Netherlands, and Switzerland, the tax advantages for our clients in the UK, would make that our biggest market.


I produce some sales aids for our teams:




On March 19th, I get a strange letter from Pat Minihan, resigning; something about his under-managers doing so much better than he, he can’t hold up his head.


It is a shame. Pat was the first of my recruits when I went into Northern Ireland in 1966 to start a branch of the International Life Insurance Company (UK) Ltd. – a very significant part of my ILI/IOS career. He had done so well. I remember the first day I met his wife; she was so suspicious and jealous, and just plain scared. Six month later, she bought her first fur coat! And when I left Belfast to move to London, I made Pat the country manager, and he flourished.


But the machinations of Sam and Jerry Ratz are too much for Pat. He has an Irish Catholic innocence that can’t abide subterfuge and underhanded power plays.


As long as Ratz and CATU are handling the actual leasing, all I need is a small sales administration operation. But I have bigger plans and need an office that reflects the proper image of an established but growing business. This was London, after all.


It’s now April and I call John Stock who helped me find so many great properties in years past and he comes up with 14 Hyde Park Gardens.


I hadn’t considered anything “north of the Park” after being in Belgravia, but I’m told this is a very special place to live. Hyde Park Gardens runs along the north of Hyde Park and is a terrace of magnificent, multi-storied, private houses.


The Bayswater Road/Garden side

John and I go to view number fourteen, next door to the Embassy of Sri Lanka.

As you can see, the entrance doesn’t look like much. The window above the door is the kitchen; the window above is a bedroom.


Inside, we walk to the small lift on the left. On the right is a large elaborate door.

John says, “that’s the front door to the Duchess of Sutherland’s home. She has the lower half of the building.


“Sutherland!” I exclaim, “That’s my mother’s family! They are the largest landowners in Scotland, and my mother’s grandfather came over to America in the 1800’s and started a thread manufacturing company in Cohoes, New York, a few miles from Albany. It will be great fun getting to know her.”


John gives me a funny look.


We go up in the teeny lift – there’s only room for two. The next door opens to the second floor (third floor in America). We turn right and walk through a spacious hall toward the rear. A staircase rises on our right; through the elegant door straight ahead is the large pantry and kitchen. Turning left, we enter a dining room with fireplace, and beyond, facing the Park, down a wide staircase is a sunken living room with fireplace and large, double height windows onto a small balcony overlooking the gardens and Hyde Park.


Needless to say, I took it; Mito shipped the best pieces from 68th Street, and a few weeks later, this is how it looked…


You can see some of the furniture from 68th Street up in the yellow dining room.

The “Grand Hyatt” elevator car is a 19th-Century shop vitrine.
The amazingly huge rubber plants are from the Chelsea Flower Show.

My secretary would sit here and, beyond the fireplace to the left, was...

my perch. I would sit in the single white chair on the right and meet with people all day.


You will remember the gargoyles and the sculpted painting came from San Francisco, the blue and white Indian rugs came from the House in the Woods, and the many pillows are the fine Bargello work of Mito. The pair of Moroccan tables are here with me in Thailand.


Up the stairs from the front hall is a small, square room over the kitchen; a very large bedroom looks out the rear, and a corridor leads in the direction of the Park past a large dressing room on the right to a door. Beyond the door, the lift is on the left and another door leads into the grand master bedroom and bath both of which look out onto the Park. It is a delightful arrangement.


You can see from the aerial photograph that there are three floor above my “top” floor. I don’t know how one gets to these nor have I ever heard any noises from above… the Duchess of Sutherland could not say the same.


I bought an Amaryllis, wrapped the pot in a bit of Sutherland standard tartan, and took it to her as a new-neighbour-gift. She opened the door with a smile – I could immediately see why she was nick-named “The Pekinese” by her “friends” – and welcomed me in. Instead of the lilting conversation I was expecting of Scotland, she said, “Can you do something about the noise? My bedroom is directly under your dining room.”

“Hasn’t this bothered you before?” I asked.


“There hasn’t been anyone in that flat for years; liaise with my son, if need be, but do something about it.”


“Very nice to meet you,” I said on the way out.


I related the conversation to a friend… “There’s something wonky about her title, she’s not really THE Duchess of Sutherland. She… mumble, mumble.”


I never bothered to work it all out, but did get people to rip up the dining room floor and insulate it.


One of my best new friends is Guy Munthe. His family is bizarre. The second time I met him, in January, we went to visit his family in their 66-room house on Wimbledon Common. His father showed me Marie Antoinette’s pearl necklace in a vitrine in the vast entrance hall. 


“She was wearing it just before the blade came down. A relative saved it at the last minute.” Mr. Malcolm Munthe rasped.


I looked at Guy with eyes wide. Later he told me it was all true.


“My grandfather was Axel Munthe who wrote the best-seller, "The Story of San Michele." he said innocently.


Wikipedia - Axel Martin Fredrik Munthe (31 October 1857 – 11 February 1949) was a Swedish-born physician and psychiatrist, best known as the author of The Story of San Michele, an autobiographical account of his life and work. He spoke several languages (Swedish, English, French, Italian fluently, and German at least passably), grew up in Sweden, attended medical school there, and opened his first practice in France. He was married to an English aristocrat and spent most of his adult life in Italy. His philanthropic nature often led him to treat the poor without charge, and he risked his life on several occasions to offer medical help in times of war, disaster, or plague. As an advocate of animal rights, he purchased land to create a bird sanctuary near his home in Italy, argued for bans on painful traps, and himself kept pets as diverse as an owl and a baboon, as well as many types of dog. His writing is light-hearted, being primarily memoirs drawn from his real-life experiences, but it is often tinged with sadness or tragedy, and often uses dramatic license. He primarily wrote about people and their idiosyncrasies, portraying the foibles of both the rich and the poor, but also about animals.


In 1907, Munthe married an English aristocrat, Hilda Pennington-Mellor. Her family owned two notable properties: Hellens in Herefordshire, one of the oldest dwellings in the country, and Southside House, a 17th-century mansion on Wimbledon Common in London. They had two sons, Peter and Malcolm.


Munthe wrote The Story of San Michele (published in 1929), which was well received, having been translated into at least 45 languages and said to be one of the best-selling books of the 20th century.


An operation restored his sight, and he spent several more years at San Michele before returning to Sweden in 1942. He spent the final years of his life as an official guest of the King of Sweden.


Axel Munthe

We huddle around a one-log fire in the freezing drawing room until called to dinner. As we go into dinner, Guy’s father picks up the burning log and… brings it with us and puts it in the dining room’s fireplace! There is no other wood in it.


The dining room is so tall, there are three rows of full-size portraits of standing ancestors above the chair rail and below the crown molding!


Guy lives across the Thames from St. Paul’s cathedral in what used to be Christopher Wren’s house at 49 Bankside. [I thought he rented it, but according to Google, it belonged to his father.]


My first time in the house, Guy says, ”Come here and look out the window. Can’t you just imagine Wren rowing back home after a day’s work and studying what he had done from this window? ‘Hmmm, the dome should be a touch more to the east,’ he might have muttered.”


Eight years my junior, Guy is 27 this year. Blond, blue-eyed, and toned, he is almost irresistible to everyone. In fact, he is mentioned in the society columns as one of Princess Margaret’s regular escorts. But Asian boys are his passion, and the house almost teems with them.


He entertains constantly, and I never know what to expect… he has an empty coffin in the basement - I don’t know what he does with that.


His round dining room table sits twelve, and candles are the only lighting throughout the house.


He decides to join what he perceives to be the new trend and becomes a sales associate of Carter & Company UK. His first sale is to Colin Tennant who owned the island of Mustique. Natch.


Wikipedia - Colin Christopher Paget Tennant, 3rd Baron Glenconner (1 December 1926[1] – 27 August 2010) was a British aristocrat. Before succeeding to the peerage in 1983, he had travelled widely, especially in India and the West Indies. He was an avid socialite and a close friend of Princess Margaret, to whom his wife was a lady-in-waiting. In 1958, he purchased the island of Mustique in The Grenadines for £45,000.

Another new friend is Brian Taylor who was recruited by one of my managers in London. He was remarkably successful early on, and we are now friends. Brian is a wine merchant with a wide circle of monied clients, and helped me organize wine tastings at Hyde Park Gardens. He has the most amazing “nose.”


When I have Brian and Peggy, his mink-coated wife, to dinner, and I decant the wine in the kitchen. Brian can tell the vineyard, the vintage, even the location within the vineyard from which almost any wine comes! It is truly extraordinary.


It is the end of April and I meet George Lane at a Hungarian Embassy cocktail. Fifty-something, George has a hearty laugh and a mischievous wink, and a very attractive wife, Elizabeth. Elizabeth is on the main Board of Directors of Christie’s, George is a contributor to The Economist.


Turns out we both made an indelible mark on each other’s lives and became great friends and colleagues. It starts with lunch at Brooks’s - one of the oldest gentlemen’s clubs in London.

City A.M. Newsletter - BROOKS’S in Mayfair is one of the oldest and most reputable gentlemen’s clubs in the country, founded in 1764 by four Dukes and with a cast list of former members that includes William Pitt the Younger and Lionel de Rothschild.


As you can imagine, joining the ranks of the exclusive all-male preserve is not straightforward. First, would-be members must be proposed by a member and seconded by another, then ten more members must sign to agree to their inclusion.


Next, the secretary and the club managers hold a “scrutiny meeting” to remove any undesirables; finally, the candidate is put to the vote among the 1,400 members in an old-fashioned ballot. All in all, says The Capitalist’s man at the bridge table, the process takes about two years.


George tells me his history, I tell him mine.


His is much more fascinating. His family estates on the continent were vast.


He was the water polo champion of Hungary.


He was brought up in Windsor Castle.


He joined the British Commandos, was captured by Rommel, and because he successfully fooled the Germans over the invasion, was awarded Hungary’s highest military and civilian honor.


He suffers from parachute injuries, limps a bit, and is bored out of his mind. He asks, “Got any ideas?”


Well it certainly wouldn’t hurt a young, relatively-brash American to have an older, sophisticated. and decorated gentleman as a side-kick. “Shall we dance?”


“After you, Alphonse.”


On the way out I recognize Klaus von Bülow sitting by himself at a table in a corner.


I take George to meet Jerry Ratz the next day.


“My God, what an uncouth shit!” George says as we exit Ratz’s office. (I hope he heard.) “We need to find an alternative to TCS.”


Mito comes back from New York on May 18th.


Another early starter in Carter & Company UK is Dixon Boardman.


From his website : D. Dixon Boardman - Mr. Boardman is the Founder and Chief Executive Officer of Optima Fund Management LLC. Having launched Optima’s flagship fund in July 1988, he has built the firm into one of the industry’s most well-respected businesses, with $4 billion in assets under management. Prior to forming Optima, Mr. Boardman advised high net worth individuals, first as a Senior Vice President at Kidder, Peabody, where he was one of the 20 leading stockbrokers in the firm, and then at UBS PaineWebber, where he was a member of the Chairman’s Council. Mr. Boardman attended McGill University.

In mid-June, George and Elizabeth take me to Mr. and Mrs. Harry Creighton’s fabulous house on Upper Brook Street for a drink. The Creightons are a vivacious couple; Harry owns The Economist!


Since giving the Nova back to Sam, I have been driving a Mini Moke. Going around the Victoria Memorial in front of Buck House (Buckingham Palace), I have to lean as in a sailboat. It’s the most fun car I’ve ever had!


The house may be dignified but the car sure ain’t! I love it.


July 2 is Mito’s and my fifth anniversary!


The beginning of August, John French has a novel idea – let’s put one of our containers in the Perth Agricultural Show! It turns out to be a great idea, and John sells more than £20,000 of containers.


At the mid-August Board of Directors meeting of Carter & Company UK, George Lane is appointed to the Board and receives 1000 shares of company stock.


Toward the end of August, John French reports that Jerry Ratz is trying to recruit him to form an in-house TCS sales team. (Not nice.)


I total up our sales of TCS containers to date - $1.6 million!


I ask George to see Jerry and find out his intentions. At the meeting, TCS served notice that they were terminating the arrangement with Carter & Company. Never having liked Ratz, I am happy, but I am not happy that all our sales associates are quitting to go work for TCS. We need a new product, fast.


I fly to Geneva for a day of meetings with Ed Coughlin and Henri Tschudi to finalize the establishment of Carter & Company, S.A., the Swiss holding company that now controls the majority of shares of Edward G. L. Carter & Company, Ltd. and will hold other entities that may be formed in the future. Henri is elected as President.


When I return the next day, I meet with several transport companies who needed road trailers. I put Ken Carr, an expert in the field, in charge, and soon we were able to offer trailers leased to UK transport companies. Not as regulated as the container business, transport companies were known to default on lease payments - breeding teams of repossession specialists. But the same Capital Allowances applied and each offer was fully subscribed. In total, we sold £500,000 of forty-foot, road trailers with leases.


George Lane is continuing to pursue alternatives to “that uncouth shit” (Ratz), and at the beginning of November, we meet with Mr. David Jones, head of the London office of Interpool – one of the world’s largest container leasing companies, headquartered in New York. Mr. Jones will take up the idea of some sort of cooperation with Warren Serenbetz, Interpool’s president.


Mid-November, George invites the Right Honorable, the Earl of Lanesborough to meet me. Lord Lanesborough is a thoroughly charming and bright man with enormous commercial experience. He is also president of the Guide Dogs for the Blind Association, and a railroad enthusiast – he once drove the “Flying Scotsman!


Wikipedia - Denis Anthony Brian Butler, 9th Earl of Lanesborough (28 October 1918 – 27 December 1998) was an Irish aristocrat. Butler also held the titles 10th Viscount Lanesborough and 12th Baron of Newton-Butler. Butler inherited Swithland Hall, an estate of 3,000 acres (1,200 ha), from his father, the 8th Earl of Lanesborough, in 1950. However, the death duties entailed in the inheritance resulted in sale of majority of estate.

The Guardian


Denis Anthony Brian Butler, the 9th Earl of Lanesborough, who has died aged 80, was an enthusiastic hobbyist, particularly for railways. This enthusiasm was inherited from his grandfather who, on family holidays in the south of France, used to ride in the engine-driver's cab all the way from Paris to Nice. He himself took a course in engine-driving at the LNER centre in Darlington. At his 3,000 acre estate, Swithland Hall, he built his 600-foot model railway, a replica of the Fort William-to-Carlisle line, with 300 pieces of rolling stock…


All this went in the wake of inheriting his title in 1950, which was followed by crippling death duties. These forced him to sell Swithland Hall, with his model railway.


Initially having a title and an estate had its compensations. Divorced in 1950, the year he became earl, he could organise a lavish ball in 1951 for the Canadian screen temptress, Yvonne de Carlo, best known for her role as Salome. Social events of the period were enlivened by his party trick neatly cracking walnuts with his forehead.


The 9th Earl served on the Trent Regional Health Authority and became its vice chairman for four years from 1978. He was a member of the National Gas Consumers Council for five years from 1973. The family title will now survive mainly in the name of the Lanesborough Hotel, off Hyde Park Corner, on the site of St. George's Hospital, itself based on the family house, sold in 1733, of the Irish Viscount Lanesborough.


Denis Anthony Brian Butler, 9th Earl of Lanesborough, born October 28, 1918; died December 21, 1998

Denis is interested in what we were doing and accepts a seat on the Board of Directors of Carter & Company UK as Deputy Chairman, and as Vice-President of Carter & Company, S.A., the Swiss holding company.


A couple of weeks later, gaining momentum, George invites Sir Harmar Nicholls to lunch at Hyde Park Gardens.


On November 19, Mito, administration manager and “chief cook and bottle washer”, flies to NYC.


As if psychic, Johnny Galliher calls - we dine with John McCarthy, a mutual friend from Manhattan, at Mimmo’s and go dancing at Y&M.


The next day, Tom Boyd and his partner, Marshall, take me to dinner at Country Cousin, a restaurant of the same name as a favorite in Manhattan.


Word of my activities is spreading - Norman Gurov, my IOS supervisor in Hong Kong – I never could abide those horrendous cold calls in apartment buildings - drops by for a drink.


December first, Lord Harmar Nicholls comes to lunch.


Wikipedia - Harmar Harmar-Nicholls, Baron Harmar-Nicholls (1 November 1912 – 15 September 2000), known as Sir Harmar Nicholls, 1st Baronet, from 1960 to 1975, was a British Conservative Party politician. During World War II, he served in the Royal Engineers in India and Burma. He worked as a surveyor and as chairman of a paint company, serving as President of the Wallpaper and Paint Retailers' Association. He was a Lloyd's of London underwriter, a company director and chairman of Radio Luxembourg Ltd. He was created a Baronet, of Darlaston in the County of Stafford, in 1960, and in 1975, he was given a life peerage as Baron Harmar-Nicholls.

Not too long after, he invited me to tea at Parliament, but as he seemed to be more interested in my thighs than my company ties, I decided to discourage any association.


On the morning of December ninth, Jerry Ratz says there is an exciting possibility in Capetown, South Africa. A potential client, Gerald Lubner, has been negotiating with the government to allow him to buy shipping containers in the local currency – rand, lease them abroad, and bank a portion of the revenue in Switzerland. Jerry was going to Capetown to meet him the day after tomorrow. “Why don’t you meet me there?”


I immediately call Bill Bennette, a South African friend in Capetown, who tells me that Gerald Lubner is part of the family that owns South Africa’s Plate Glass Group, one of the most important companies in the country. “Do you know them? Can you introduce me on the phone?”


He does so and I talk with Gerald Lubner about Carter & Company, Jerry Ratz, and Interpool. He promises to stay mum about our conversation and will agree nothing with Ratz until he can meet with me. (He’s sort of excited about the cat-and-mouse of it all.)


I apply for a visa that afternoon and call David Jones of Interpool for a meeting. The earliest he can make it is Saturday.


I pick up the visa on Friday, and, on Saturday, just as Ratz is flying to South Africa, lunch with Jones and tell him, “I’m going to Capetown on Tuesday to squash Ratz’s plans and switch the deal to Interpool.”


Monday – David Hicks comes for dinner.


Tuesday, I hire a car to get to Heathrow. It’s not nearly as much fun as the Moke but I don’t want to leave an open car in the airport car park.


I can’t get a direct flight to Capetown so I land in Johannesburg for the night and call Mr. Lubner. He says, “I’ve been checking up on Ratz; nobody is happy with him. What’s the story?”


I say, “He’s a conflicted soul; a control freak who wants to run everything himself. We’ve built a strong and reputable sales force and are revolutionizing off-balance sheet financing in the shipping business through privately-owned shipping containers and transport trailers.


“Ratz wants to do both leasing and sales and he’s not competent. We don’t know nearly enough about his leasing arrangements and he is too closed-mouth.


“On the other hand, Interpool is a major player on the world’s shipping lanes. If you can get your government to agree to your buying shipping containers and leasing them to Interpool, a known quantity, rather than to teeny TCS – an unknown agent – then you can rest assured you have safeguarded your assets.”


“That’s route I’ll go.” Lubner says. “Let’s lunch at my office in Capetown tomorrow.”


December 15, Wednesday morning, I fly to Capetown, and check into the Ambassador Hotel.


I walk into to lift to go up to my room, and there stands Jerry Ratz. He says, “I’ve been waiting to get you alone in private for days. I just want you to know, I am going to crush you.”


I smile and say, “I don’t think so, Jerry.”


He says, “I’m meeting Mr. Lubner this afternoon at four, I don’t know why I invited you to come. I don’t need you and I don’t want to see you.”


“Bye, Jerry.” I smiled.


I lunched with Gerald Lubner. It was 6:30 AM in New York, and Jones and Serenbetz were standing by. The questions flew; the answers came back just as fast. All would be confirmed by Telex. $5 million worth of containers were involved.


Gerald said, “Thanks, Ted. We’ve made an historic agreement. Check out of your hotel and come and stay here with me and my wife.”


Then he picked up the phone, it was 3PM; he call Ratz and cancelled their meeting. “I don’t need you and I don’t want to see you.” he parroted Ratz’s words to me earlier in the lift.


The next morning, we drove to the Cape of Good Hope – monkeys scampered all over the open car.


We had dinner at home that evening.


The seventeenth dawns rainy; I call Bill Bennette and we set a date for that evening. We dine in “A Lion & Whisky” in the Ambassador Hotel and go dancing above Ronald Scotts at the corner of Loop and Short Market streets – one of Capetown’s few gay discos. It was a very friendly crowd, at least to this beige-suited American.


Saturday is something else. A huge bar-b-que has been arranged in Westonaria by Selwyn Elkin, the number-one, social interior designer of South Africa who later relocated to Israel. Westonaria is situated amidst gold fields and forms the nucleus of five gold mines. The town is approximately 45 km from Johannesburg, and all the major families of the country were there in my honor.


It seems that everyone had heard about the Government’s willingness to allow containers to be bought and leased abroad with a percentage of the revenue staying abroad. There was also serious talk about building shipping containers in South Africa which, of course, would have to be shipped abroad and would earn hard currency.


Members of the family that had first discovered gold in South Africa were there, as were representatives of the major mining families.


Just to give you an inkling of the importance of the event… the staff were white!


Towards evening, Gerald arrives, wreathed in smiles. “My lawyers in New York met with Serenbetz and the Interpool lawyers at their offices in Manhattan and signed the deal. It’s a done deal!”


The party went on till the wee hours. I felt very good.

On Sunday afternoon, Dec 19th, I took SA336 to Johannesburg and SA258 to London at 6PM.


I arrived at Heathrow at 7:15AM, checked in with David Jones – we congratulated ourselves over the deal – and went to see Ratz.


It was obvious to all that the writing was on the wall, and very clear it was. Interpool was going to be the major player and if Ratz wanted any business from us at all, he had to cooperate and compete from the leasing point of view, not sales. At that moment, Carter & Company became the only source of managed shipping containers in the market.


Unpacking, I find I have left my beige suit behind at the Lubner’s.


December 21. I meet John Kay, who was to become one of my closest friends, and dine with him and his friends at #5, 71 Portland Place. As I was going up the stairs, David Warner, the actor was coming down – typical London.


December 23 – Lunch with Denis Lanesborough to update him and George on the affairs of South Africa.


Later in the day, I received a telegram from Mito:
“All the best for the holidays and 1977 and to remind you that my love for you hasn’t changed./stop/ Miss you and love you very much./stop/ Please get in touch.”


And that evening, I gave a dinner for John Kay.


On the 24th, I lunched with George and Elizabeth at Zanzibar, called Johnny G and Stephen Kaufmann in New York, and danced at Napoleon.


Christmas was an open-house at Hyde Park Gardens with a buffet dinner for all and sundry.


Boxing Day supper, I cooked quiche for David Sulzberger of the New York Times family, a pal. Guy and some of his friends dropped in and we all spent a cozy evening.


The year wound down with fun cocktails and small dinners. My diary says I even got a call from Sam on New Year’s Eve… nothing more noted.


1976 had been a year of consolidation and new directions of growth but… nothing compared to 1977 yet to come.




END OF CHAPTER ELEVEN

The Cast – Chapters Ten through Fourteen:


Mito Catral, Margaret L. Carter, Johnny Galliher,
Jacques Sarli, François Catroux, Edward Zajac, Richard Callahan,
Al Pacino, John Brewer, Jackie Kennedy, Pierre Suter, Ed Coughlin,
Martha & Sam Welker, Baroness Carrie de Vendeuvre,

Prince Rupert Loewenstein, Cappy Badrutt, Countess Jacqueline de Ribes,

Gilles Dufour, Karl Lagerfeld,
Eli Wallitt, Bernie Cornfeld, Charlie Freeman,

Roy and Buthena Kirkdorffer,

Harold Levi, Mr. & Mrs. Truman Anderson, Mr. H.A. Jacques,

Daniel Droze,
Mana Weiser, Mr. Toblerone, Dr. David Trueblood,

Sir John Templeton,
Stewart Granger, Peter Herzog, David Fitts, Jerry Ratz, Mr. Liers, Pat Minihan,

Albert Moth, Nat Greenburg, Eric Banks, John French, Frank Charlton,
Barry Fletcher, Jaime Granger, Baron Tieson, David Hamilton,
Prince Hohenlohe, Countess Obolensky, Ron Ferri & Jean Pierre, John Stock,

Duchess of Sutherland, Guy Munthe, Axel Munthe, Colin Tennant,
Brian & Peggy Taylor, George & Elizabeth Lane, Klaus von Bülow,
Dixon Boardman, Mr. and Mrs. Harry Creighton, Ken Carr, David Jones,
Warren Serenbetz, The Earl of Lanesborough, Sir Harmar Nicholls,
John McCarthy, Norman Gurov, Gerald Lubner, Bill Bennette, David Hicks,

Selwyn Elkin, John Kay, David Warner, Stephen Kaufmann, David Sulzberger,

Simon Trimble, Allen Warren, Lionel Bart, Sir Guy Millard, Ben Coleman,
Tony Hail, Chuck Posey, Walt & Florence Patnode, Marguerite Littman,
Henry McIlhenny, Add and Wit, Vincent Friia, Peter Marshall, Tony Cloughley, Alessandro Albrizzi, Tim Krusi, Alan Jones, Logan, Nora, Michael Beuttler,
Paul Wheeler, Richard Taylor, Jeremy Norman, Derek Frost, Bob Perkins,

Eduardo Llanyo, William Thuiller, Nicholas Kimber, Max Maguire,
John Schlesinger, Nicky Lane, Bobby Fryer, Mark McCormick, April Ashley,

Graham White, Dicky Fife, Christopher McDonell, Andre Moussoulos,
Anthony Redmile, Harold Gould, Ralph Clark, Naim Akill, Anthony Brown,
Alan Lumsden, Sompong Toomvhun,
Alix & Tom Dame and their daughters, Leslie and Laura,
Debbie Leonard, Charlie Keough, Bob Tebbutt, Moe Sherman,
May & Dan Leonard, Danny & Betty Leonard, Jack & Mary Tennant,
Dody & Bill Oliver, George & Isabel Brett, Danforth Leonard,
Jean & Andy Jones, David Harper, Lonnie Foster, David Griggs,
Michael Fish & Trevor, Sheridan Dufferin, Mr. Robert George,
Mr. Clive Vlieland-Boddy, Martin Vlieland-Boddy, Ian Landless,
Lord Litchfield, George Lazenby, Paul Lazenby, Major Anthony Everette,
Rupert Everette, Paul Littlewood, John Addey, Gil Karnig, Jackson Kelly,
Bill Hurlock, Walter Otto, Henri Tschudi, Ray LaMay, Parker Packard, Hank Snow,

Dr. Trudeau, Gary Trudeau, William Avery Rockefeller, Steve Briggs,
Joe & Clarissa Blagden, Tom Blagden, Steve Blagden, Stuart Kirby,
Robert Carrier, Miss Audré, Alan Sievewright, Placido Domingo,
Michael Cowie, David Clayton, Chuck & Susie Bade,
Baroness Rochefoucauld,
Yves Saint-Laurent, Marc Bohan,

and
Robert Townsend.





Moments from Chapter Eleven


The Duchess opened the door – I could immediately see why she was nick-named “The Pekinese” by her “friends”



We went to visit his family in their 66-room house on Wimbledon Common.



He may be one of Princess Margaret’s regular escorts, but Asian boys are his passion, and the house almost teems with them.



He joined the British Commandos, was captured by Rommel, and because he successfully fooled the Germans over the invasion, was awarded
Hungary’s highest military and civilian honor.



“My God, what an uncouth shit!” George says as we exit Ratz’s office.



He invited me to tea at Parliament,
but was more interested in my thighs than my company ties.



“I just want you to know, I am going to crush you.”



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