CHRIS Hutchins’ new true crime story is quite remarkable. Not only does it elicit an insight into the pop world – with principal cast members such as John Reid and Billy Gaff, the former managers of Elton John and Rod Stewart – a powerful subtext hints at the age-old question: can love really blind us to the point we should see a cataract specialist?

And in telling of the life and tragic death of music mogul Peter Ikin, not only does the investigative journalist explore what looks to be one of the most incredible, callous scams of the modern age, Hutchins then demands we consider our own capacity for self-delusion with another question: are we more likely to fall arse over t*t for someone who has just promised you ten billion dollars?

Chris Hutchins interviewed more than 200 people for this book, spending 15 years examining the details surrounding the death of Ikin, a former Warner Brothers executive whose professional success (he retired with some £10million in the bank) was well matched by his personal success in life. An immensely loved figure in the industry, Ikin counted the likes of Elton, Rod, Sting, Prince and Madonna as pals, and John Reid and Billy Gaff as very best friends.

But Hutchin’s story reveals that the cosy comfy retirement life changed dramatically for the 62-year-old Ikin one day in April 2008 when he opened the front door to his pristine, all-white apartment overlooking Sydney Harbour.  Standing in front of him was Alexandre Despallieres, the “impossibly handsome” young Frenchman he had had a fling 20 years ago when Despallieres tried to launch himself as a pop star at a Warners Records convention in San Francisco (his only single was entitled Love Until Death).

Now, here was a man with the looks Britt Ekland would later describe as breathtaking, who makes Sacha Distel look like Gerard Depardieu, holding out a hopeful handshake. And hoping to reconnect with Ikin.

But no sooner had the Aussie picked himself up from the floor and invited his former lover inside, Despallieres was to deliver the news that almost floored him yet again. The Parisian socialite with the floppy hair and melting eyes had in fact come a long way since his days as a catalogue model. He was now, he declared, a billionaire, the owner of an internationally successful tech company with a string of apartments in Central Park West and a mansion in London’s Holland Park. His speed dial entries, he said, included the Sultan of Brunei and top lawyers and political figures in French society.

The Frenchman, recounts Chris Hutchins, continued to layer on detail of his wonderful life. As well as developing his IT businesses, he was also a top television writer having worked on the likes of Boston Legal. Peter Ikin was clearly enthralled to learn his former boyfriend had achieved such wondrous success. But with this news came a tale of utter tragedy. Despallieres revealed that he was dying. “I have so little time left – the doctors say six months at the most,” he announced.

Despallieres explained that he was HIV positive, and that the virus had developed into AIDS. Peter Ikin crumpled as his returning partner then went on to explain an added dimension to his imminent death. He couldn’t trust his wealth to the hands of the French legal system because his two brothers, who hated him, would inherit most of it. No, he wanted Ikin to have his billions.  “After all, you have been the only person who ever really cared for me.” And, Despallieres explained, there was a way in which Peter Ikin could inherit this inordinate amount of money. 

All they had to do was get married.

Chris Hutchins reveals that Peter Ikin was an immensely clever man, shrewd and smart enough to cope with pop’s immensely demanding talents, to solve whichever problem the likes of Prince and Madonna posed. Yet, he didn’t question the motives of Alexandre Despallieres at all. Instead, he chose to believe the Frenchman outright, to move him into his apartment almost immediately, allow his friends to come and stay – and agree to marry him. And he didn’t do due diligence to find out if Despallieres’ social networking software company actually existed.

But Hutchins’ story explains why Ikin didn’t even consider warming up the search engine on his computer. How could a thoroughly decent person even begin to question the motives of a “dying” man? Yes, he agreed to marry Despallieres and make out a will leaving everything to him, but that was purely a formality. His French dreamboat had but months left on Earth. 

Meanwhile, Ikin was regularly presented with the evidence that Alexandre Despallieres was seriously ill. Once he became part of Peter Ikin’s social world, the “French fancy”, as Ikin’s friend would refer to him, would regale dinner party audiences with stories of his personal success one minute – yet he could be writhing on the floor the next, suffering from the horrendous effects of his “brain tumours”.


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Paisley-born John Reid however didn’t believe his friend would in fact marry the Frenchman who was 20 years his junior. “I thought it would just blow over. I thought that Peter would come to his senses because he wasn’t stupid. He was flattered by the attention of a young, good-looking man. But it’s true he was also carried away with this large amount of money he was going to get. I seem to remember a figure of $8billion being mentioned.”

Peter Ikin wasn’t the only person captivated by the charms of Alexandre Despallieres, whom Reid reckons was one of the most charismatic people he had ever come across. Billy Gaff was in complete agreement that Despallieres had the power to light up the Palace of Versailles.

What follows in Chris Hutchins’ account is a tale of how Peter Ikin became entrapped into the world of Alexandre Despallieres. He lent him money (sometimes billionaires too have cash flow problems.) In spite of Ikin’s OCD-level fastidiousness, he allowed Alex and his friends to host a great many parties at his spotless Sydney apartment. And when Despallieres and his entourage took off to Mexico to have his “brain tumours treated”, Ikin was treated to scarce information. But he couldn’t complain, could he? After all, his partner could “die at any time”.

Then, in August 2008, Hutchins reveals that Peter Ikin was said to have drafted a new will leaving everything to Despallieres (a symbolic gesture, said the Frenchman, since there was no chance of Peter surviving his partner.) And John Reid was wrong. The civil partnership went ahead and Ikin also signed over his Chelsea home.

(Image: Despallières's society encounters included then-French president Jacques Chirac)

But just three months later, and 33 days after the civil ceremony, Peter Ikin, the man Elton once described as “fabulous”, was found dead in a Parisian hotel room. John Reid and two other friends rushed to Paris on hearing the shock news.  “This did not seem the right way for such a beloved man to go, a man who had achieved so much and who had so many loving friends around the world,” says Reid.

Doctors revealed Peter Ikin had died from chemical poisoning. However, Reid underlined that his close pal hadn’t taken drugs since the Eighties. Meanwhile, Despallieres and his cohorts hosted a party. But as Chris Hutchins points out, that in itself was no reason to suspect the Frenchman of foul play; people deal with grief in different ways.

What was really going on? John Reid believed he could smell a rat. Was he right?  Irishman Billy Gaff, who had become close with Despallieres and indeed moved into Ikin’s Chelsea home with the Frenchman to “comfort him”, also showed concerns. Gaff worried why the French billionaire was already drawing upon Peter Ikin’s will and buying Porsches, even though he couldn’t drive.  (The one-page will photocopy would later be contested in Australia.) Gaff also had concerns as to why Despallieres never seemed to take his AIDS medicine. And he certainly worried when his own jewellery disappeared from the flat.

At this point Billy Gaff and John Reid took their concerns to their old chum Chris Hutchins, who sought to uncover the truth. Over the years, Hutchins interviewed Despallieres several times (“He was kindly, and utterly charming”) yet in the process, the writer uncovered some mind-blowing allegations. What of the rumours that Alex had poisoned his parents. (Despallieres’ brothers believed them to be true). And that he’d poisoned a former lover? 

The book reveals a litany of accusations against Despallieres. They involved a wealthy American woman who became so captivated by the Gallic charm and the sheer beauty of the young man she said she wished to adopt him. There was the claim Despallieres had once been a partner of a wealthy Parisian lawyer, Olivier Metzner, who died under mysterious circumstances. There are also the later revelations of Despallieres’ business success in Paris, achieving a position so prominent he was on the invite list to President Macrons’ Garden parties.

(Image: Peter Ikin)

But who really was Alexandre Despallieres? A highly talented, extremely clever man whom the world couldn’t help fall in love with - or The Talented Mr Ripley with a French accent? And what of Peter Ikin’s death? Hutchins learned that Ikin had in fact suspended the joint bank account he set up with Despallieres.  But what of the medical reports claiming overdose? The writer reveals that it was John Reid in fact who set the French police on the track to uncovering a whole new truth.

What follows is a perfectly crafted story by a writer committed to uncovering the truth. It’s not difficult to understand how Peter Ikin and so many others found Alexandre Despallieres so alluring.

Indeed, it’s no surprise to discover that John Reid is currently developing a television series based on Chris Hutchins’ book, an utterly compelling tale which turns the brightest light on the darkest aspects of the human condition.

However, the Alexandre Despallieres story has a tragic footnote. On the day of the launch of his powerful opus, writer Chris Hutchins collapsed and died.

 

Love Until Death, Penguin Books, £12.99