Customer Reviews

Dead Lucky: Lord Lucan: The Final Truth

5 star:		(3)
4 star:		(3)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

The book is very well written, looks very professional and puts forward a convincing argument for the hypothesis that Lord Lucan adopted the name Barry Halpin in Goa. Unfortunately the whole theory fell apart shortly before the book was published when it was discovered that Barry Halpin really was Barry Halpin, a hippy banjo player from Yorkshire who travelled around the world and settled in India. Enough friends and relatives came forward to identify the man in the photograph as Halpin. But I can understand the author; if I had spent years writing a book and then I discovered that it was fundamentally flawed just before publication, I would be reluctant to accept the truth.

The news that Lord Lucan's disappearance had been solved reached the States. I arrived in London the day after the story broke, determined to buy the book and read for myself the fate of Lucan. I was first assaulted with Fleet Street headlines, boldly claiming that the story wasn't true. Being a critical thinker, I wondered why "The Guardian" was claiming that Barry Halpin was a banjo player from St. Helens, but as the author of the book was quoted in the article, "Where is the photographic proof?" "The Guardian" used the author's photos for their story disclaiming the author's story. The only Fleet Street paper that had photographs that day was, "The Sun," and any critically thinking person could tell those pictures were computer generated! All these counter-claims did nothing to dissuade me from purchasing the book that day. I wanted to decide for myself if the discovery made by this former, decorated Scotland Yard detective was a plausible explanation for the whereabouts of Lord Lucan after that fateful night in November 1974.

MacLaughlin gives us much detail concerning the life of Lucan, his foibles and dark nature developing with his love of gambling. His marriage to social climber Veronica Duncan began well enough, but the erratic behaviour of Lady Lucan coupled with the spiral of Lord Lucan's fortunes at the gaming tables brought misfortune to their home as well. The final days brought a bitter custody dispute over their three children. Lord Lucan was initially granted temporary custody, but subsequently lost it when he overstepped the authority of the courts and took the children himself. He was left with a large legal bill, one he could not afford. And this is when it is believed he started making his plans.

Lord Lucan was well placed aristocracy, which was to the detriment of the murdered nanny, Sandra Rivet. Something that is obvious in this book is the concern the author has for the victim, and her son who was left motherless. Scotland Yard treated Lord Lucan with kid gloves in the hours and days after the murder. This enabled Lucan to make his getaway, using his network of close-mouthed, arrogant (by reason of wealth and class) friends to aid in his escape from the law. Lord Lucan's friends surrounded and protected him in his trouble, and helped him not only leave England, but brought him money and shared their friendship with him while Lucan was hiding in Goa, India.

MacLaughlin provides us compelling evidence that Lord Lucan made his way down to Goa, India, to live out his life in a drunken stupor. His witness list includes Indians who worked and lived on the shores of this once renegade spot on the map. Lord Lucan as Barry Halpin had many similarities, including backgammon gambling, alcohol, and a love for music.

After death by cirrhosis, the end of Lucan came in a pyrotechnic display. His body was doused in his favourite drink, feni, and burned on a pyre. The ashes were spread at the bottom of a waterfall, and it was his fait accompli. He had completely disappeared, and escaped the long arm of the law. But I wonder, with the life Lucan lived in Goa, if some hand of justice wasn't dealt him after all.

Having no concept of who Lord Lucan was, I was intrigued by the back cover synopsis and picked up the book as a light read. I was pleasantly surprised. The book is engrossing and both explained the background of the Earl and the crime and delve into the international pursuit of Lucan. Just as interesting is the treatment of the elite in the eyes of the law and the fact that the interest in this character continued for so many years after his escape.

Instead of light reading, I was simply unable to put this book down. While there has been subsequent press claiming that the findings of this investigation have been flawed and that Lord Lucan has still not been found, I came away feeling that if this was in fact the Earl, his self-imposed exile and the life that he created in Goa must surely have been worse than the punishment that he would have received (considering his status and powerful friends) had he stayed and faced the music.

A must read for anyone interested in the case and a recommended read for anyone interested in true crime.

I'd like to start this review by stating I spent a fair amount of my time in Goa in the 80's and knew Barry Halpin well. He was a bearded drop out, who had turned to booze in a big way. He retained his Lancashire accent, but from memory, I never once saw him play backgammon. However, he wasn't the only long haired, long bearded Englishman who had 'escaped' to Goa. I can think of one or two others who settled there and who now that the suggestion has been put in my mind, could have been Lord 'Lucky' Lucan.

Like Winch, I recall an articulate and clearly well read Englishman who received "out of place" visitors from the UK. He did play backgammon and from memory was very reserved. The man depicted in the top photo opposite page 48, is in my opinion, Halpin. The man featured on the front cover and elsewhere in the book, is not. He is the articulate, quiet, backgammon playing Englishman I describe.

When all is said and done, this book has rekindled the saga and will leave the reader scratching their head, asking, "Is it, or isn't it him?" I knew both men. The mystery has in my opinion been solved.

This may be the "sanest" rendition of a tale that still surfaces, from time to time, in the British Press. Sad, of course, and depressing, too; there's a great deal behind it all that we shall probably never be privy to and which may, in fact, be a lot more interesting than what we think we know. I suspect this is the basis for the movie "A Handful of Dust."

My initial review praised the book and authors for their professional and thorough examination of photos and people involved with the Lord Lucan disappearance. I have since learned that Barry Halpin was Barry Halpin, not Lord Lucan. Or so they want you to believe. I'm just not sure who 'they' are.

Having lived/worked in London in the late 60s and early 70s, I am familiar with the crowd he ran with. My employer was one of those chosen few who really didn't have to work for a living but did so to amuse himself. I know the type. My employer found himself in a bit of trouble and went to great lengths to find an excuse for the press. And he didn't murder his nanny! So I can imagine what Lord Lucan went through trying to extricate himself from this horrible mess.

I bought the story hook, line and sinker. Although I could not see the scar on the hand, I did think Barry and Lord Lucan looked similar enough that perhaps it was him. At the end of the book the author writes about looking into Irish birth records for a Barry Halpin and finding nothing. Yet, after the book was published, Barry's friends came out of the wood work. Good gosh, that's my old hippie, banjo-playin' friend, Barry! Where were these people when they were writing the book?

To this day (July 2, 2009) Lady Lucan has her own website with old photos of her with Lord Lucan. Lord Lucan has a website although he was declared dead decades ago. The men the authors say were his dear, close friends, now say they weren't. His gambling friends are now deceased so they aren't much help in this confusion.

My initial feelings after reading this book (all the way through in one sitting)were this very well could be a true book of what happened to Lord Lucan after that awful night when he accidently murdered his nanny thinking it was his wife. Barry/Lord Lucan spent two decades suffering severe alcoholism in Goa, India and dying of complications from drink. How much of the story did the authors make up? Why would English/Irish friends come down to Goa and give Barry/Lord Lucan wads of cash? They did. But who were they? Friends and fans of Barry the singer, or friends of Lord Lucan?

I suggest you read this book and draw your own conclusions. It does bring closure if you want to believe it was Lucan. He suffered, he died. Along the way he touched many lives in Goa in a positive way. Over the years Lucan's 'friends' say over and over they believe he killed himself right after the incident. Unfortunately, unless someone has a body or DNA, we will never know what happened to him.

I loved reading this book. It held my attention throughout. I would like the story to be true. Again, how much of this is fiction and how much is the truth? That, too, we will never know.

The basic hypothesis of this book (that Lucan made his way to India and lived as a recluse under the name of Barry Halpin) was shown to be incorrect soon after its publication. But for a number of reasons this book is still well worth reading.

It provides a well-written account of the crime and its aftermath and the effect which Lucan's status had on the investigation. It gives a fascinating and contrasting view into the life of people on the fringes of society in Goa in the 1970s, harmless, inconsequential souls aside from their unwitting participation in this case of mistaken identity. And it serves as an interesting example of how a substantial body of evidence, gathered in earnest, can still yield a totally wrong conclusion. Might have rated 5 stars if the theory was right.