Palace Hotel, Gstaad

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Forty-five years ago, in Paris, I played nonstop polo against Guy Wildenstein, who was the best mounted player I’ve ever come across, although quite shy when mixing it or taking a man at high speed. His brother, Alec, died some time ago, he being the hubby of the woman who had more plastic surgery than I’ve downed bottles of vodka. I will not go into details about the trial because they will all come out in the wash. But I will make a prediction. Guy Wildenstein was awarded the Legion of Honor in 2009 by Nicolas Sarkozy, the then French president, and I hate to think for what. The family is accused of having moved and hidden assets in the hundreds of millions of dollars, and has been suspected of doing so since donkey years. Yet Sarkozy rewards him with the highest award.

People like the Wildensteins do not go down. Especially in France. Sarkozy was a glitzy, shady man who wants to be president again. Nothing will come out, everything will be denied, and the meek shall inherit the earth. And Wildenstein will get to keep his hundreds of millions.