THE DASTARDLY MR DEEDES
City grandee Lord Rothschild’s proposed takeover of Alliance Trust would mark another boon for the billionaire philanthropist’s investment vehicle RIT Capital. Sharpeyed Rothschild has produced market-busting returns for investors since setting up the £2.3bn fund in 1980. But having just turned 80, City types wonder who might eventually succeed the legacy-obsessed father-of-four. His renegade son Nat, 44, has seen shares in his oil venture Genel energy plunge 90pc in the past two years, and might have become a declining asset PR-wise. Rothschild is said to be much closer to his filmmaker daughter, Hannah, 54, who already sits on the fund’s board. Marks and Spencer’s blokey, Millwall-supporting boss Steve Rowe, 48, won’t be moving into predecessor Marc Bolland’s roomy office in the firm’s London headquarters. He says: ‘I don’t spend much time in my office, frankly. I’m in stores.’ Translation: I’m more hands-on than lofty Bolland. Could Rowe’s ‘I come from the shop floor’ shtick soon wear thin? Hotshot City law firm Stephenson Harwood have reprimanded a trainee for punching one of its partners, following a boozy initiation ceremony in its Hong Kong office. The aspiring legal eagle – and parttime pugilist – was reportedly encouraged by his new colleagues to gulp down multiple shots in a short space of time. Refreshed and energised, he then socked his boss square in the chops. What larks. Who says lawyers are all dull and bookish? Moneybags Matthew Fleming, scion of the Fleming banking dynasty, was recently elected president of the MCC, the most exclusive cricket club in the world. The former Kent cricketer is definitely on the posh side – an Old Etonian who served with the Royal Green Jackets and is a partner in the family’s wealth management firm Stonehage Fleming. Inevitably, bulbousnosed Matt, 51, attracted ribbing from the less deferential chaps in his playing days. Former England cricketer Graeme Swann recalls sledging him repeatedly as a ‘millionaire boy’ but to no avail. At the end of the game Fleming explained: ‘If I was only a millionaire, Swanny, your comments might have bothered me.’ A leggy belle-lettrist of my acquaintance is most disconcerted after agreeing to interview a handsome financier – and noted swordsman – in the bar of a West London hotel. After half an hour, the charming roué suggested they finish their discussion upstairs in his suite. What a bounder!