Dead ringers

The Maserati Kyalami and De Tomaso Longchamp share much, having emerged from the same stable, but are poles apart at heart

- MARTIN BUCKLEY

Alejandro de Tomaso was an industrialist and tycoon first, and a car enthusiast second. Long on ideas but short on attention span, the Argentinian former racing driver had married into North American old money, had a feral business sense and was determined to build exotic road cars bearing his own name in his ancestorial homeland of Italy.

Having set up shop in Modena in 1959 as De Tomaso Automobili- and made his name in the early 1970s courting Ford with the Pantera - he was an irascible outsider who saw the chance to secure his legacy with the acquisition of noble but beleaguered Maserati in 1975.

Prior to Citroën's purchase of the Italian firm in 1968, it had prospered building small but significant quantities of refined, beautifully finished straight-six and V8 grand tourers. These cars traded on fading memories of the make's Grand Prix and sports-racing successes, and prioritised elegance and exclusivity over headline-making technical solutions.

Cart-sprung Salisbury rear axles and other off-the-shelf componentry prevailed well into the '70s at Maserati, and Citroën's attempts to integrate high-pressure hydraulics for brakes and steering had met with mixed success. In any case, they had little time to reach maturity before the Oil Crisis (and the Peugeot takeover) triggered the fire sale of Maserati in 1975.

With his feet under the table, de Tomaso's long-term plan was to build an Italian answer to BMW in the guise of the 1981-on Biturbo, a semi-volume-production 'executive' Maserati for the '80s that all but squandered the marque's reputation over the ensuing two decades.