High life
Maxwell's secret vice
Taki
Despite the mammoth press coverage since his mysterious death, not a single item has appeared about Robert Maxwell's gambling addiction. This is not surprising. Casinos are as discreet as the dead, no pun
intended. Especially when the tycoon involved happens to run public companies.
Nevertheless Maxwell was a plunger, and only recently the word on the street was that he had dropped £1112 million on the green felt tables. Actually he was known in the trade as a £250,000 a night punter, which meant he would more often than not call it a night having lost a quarter of a mil- lion. The £11/2 million loss must have been an aberration. It is now obvious that Maxwell was desperate toward the end, and like most desperate men he hoped against hope that his luck would change. With predictable results, of course.
What bothers me is that the tycoon gam- bled in half a dozen different casinos around London, which was unusual. Pun- ters arc superstitious — as he was — and feel lucky in one place only. Gambling in many casinos could have meant that Maxwell was more desperate than anyone knew. He may have dropped millions in, say, six different establishments, and not paid up. Were the casinos as stupid as the bankers? We shall probably never know.
Maxwell played roulette. His favourite place was Maxim's, a rather sleazy place in Knightsbridge. Although he did gamble at Aspinall's, he was not a regular. The prob- lem there was the A factor —A for Arab. In Aspinall's private rooms Maxwell was reduced to just another punter. After all, what's a £250,000 loss in an evening when a towelhead is betting that amount on one spin of the wheel? So he tried to frequent places where he was the biggest man around. It was par for the course as well as for his ego.
It was during such a night's gambling that Cap'n Bob revealed his true feelings about socialism. It happened last year at Maxim's. Maxwell rang up the club and announced his imminent arrival. The club in turn roped off three roulette tables, shunting the members to a far corner of the L-shaped room. Maxwell liked to play on three tables simultaneously. It is quite a feat. When I'm crazed with gambling fever and trying to recoup I play on two, and I find it very hard to keep up. Maxwell play- ing alone on three must have been a sight to behold.
tin that particular night he was steaming, and there were mountains of chips on the three tables. Suddenly one of the members who had been roped off crossed the line and approached the magnate (no pun intended). Maxwell mistook him for a mes- senger and told him to go ahead. Pointing at the chips the man asked the tycoon, 'How do you reconcile your socialism with this?' Cap'n Bob did not bat the proverbial eyelid. He made only one sign, with his thumb, and then resumed gambling. The sign meant a rather rude exit for the inquis- itive one, and a perfect answer as to what Robert Maxwell really thought of social- ism. My sources tell me Maxwell emerged a winner that night, which means there is divine justice even in gambling dens.
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