Lutine Bill
Fraud, of course, is one thing, and scan- dal another — but quite frightening enough, at that. It afforded the frisson of that autumn day, two years back, in Brighton, when the Conservatives were bracing themselves for the battle ahead. In the conference hall, the party trumpets sounded and the warhorses duly neighed. Outside on the promenade, above the faint fizz of tonics and the low lapping of waves, the talk was of trouble at Lloyd's. How bad was it? How far would it go? What would contain it — or distance the Government from it? Many MPs had been active on the Lloyd's Bill, which was fought out in com- mittee between the partisans of some of Lloyd's more spectacular figures. These MPs were anxious to be told that they had been on the right side — if indeed there was a right side to be on. They can turn now to Godfrey Hodgson's new and lengthy ac- count, Lloyd's of London (Allen Lane, £14.95) for an unhappy tour of their memories. The Savonita, with her cargo of singed but mysteriously self-repairing cars, the Sasse commotion, where by contrast everybody was singed and no one got repaired . . . Mr Hodgson's book plainly got longer and longer as each new horror story came up, and haloes had to be re- adjusted or returned to store. This week brings matter for a singular postscript. Some 1,000 members of Lloyd's have been offered £38 million of their money back money which, under previous management, went adrift. They are now taking counsel's advice on whether the £38 million is good enough, or whether they should sue. But whoever they may want to sue, the one body they cannot sue — since those MPs voted the Lloyd's Bill into law — is Lloyd's.
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