by Arno Baker
The call automatically triggered the wire to the brand new Belmont Books Inc. account at Chase a few blocks down on 42nd Street. The cell phone call was enough for the wire to be activated. The deal was done and the meeting was over with Jack feeling dizzy after such an experience. His mind was now concentrating on how to sell his two partners on the incredible but potentially dangerous benefits of this sudden and unexpected windfall.
But Harrison decided to procrastinate and be sure the money actually materialized the following day. The tough talking Igor could also turn out to be a well choreographed fraud. He spent a restless night in the Greenwich Village townhouse while Monica was going through one of her intense creative spells when she would stay in the basement studio until dawn. The climax would often be that in her excitement she would run upstairs and make love to him in a sudden frenzy then return down to complete a painting or destroy what she had spent hours working on before.
Monica Waters was certainly not the sweet and simple girlfriend you would want to spend the rest of your life with sharing the blessings of tender love. Everything revolved around her endless creative highs followed by long, flat plateaus but never any lows. In other words she was always up and hyper about everything. Sometimes Jack wondered why and how he managed to hook up with such a volcanic personality who thrived on the adrenaline that possessed her at night when dreams and nightmares were massively transferred to the canvas. The negative side was that he was unable to share any of his worries with her for fear that such mundane burdens would break her creative inspiration. So he kept silent most of the time and went to bed early.
The following morning Jack was calling the bank to check on the company account and he couldn’‘t help smiling when he heard that no wire transfers had come in overnight. In his mind he was already discounting the whole thing and he wasn’t worried about the paper he signed since it became operative only once “consideration as agreed” was paid up by Glomar-KL. The bank’s computerized voice also announced that updates were usually posted every 90 minutes. At noon he tried again and to his astonishment the voice spelled out that the wired amount credited to the Belmont checking account was now $2,317,204.27! He barely had placed the receiver back in its cradle that his cell phone was ringing. The voice was unmistakable,
“So, Jack, do you trust me now? It was no joke. Write down the name and address: Glomar Caribbean Ltd. P.O. Box 2271 Curaçao, Netherlands Antilles. Snail-mail the invoices to that address this week. Someone will contact you shortly about film production. Stick to our agreement and you‘ll be doing fine.”
Igor had disconnected before Jack could place a word. He tried calling but the number was on voice mail only and he gave up. Then he redialed the bank‘s number and the annoying computerized voice repeated the same exact reading. Within the hour an email came in with a confirmation of the formal assignment of the Feklisov contract to Glomar Caribbean Ltd. Instructions followed for several sets of invoices to be sent by snail mail to the post office box in Curaçao. One thing was certain: the money was now in the account, more cash than any of the three founders of Belmont ever expected to assemble for their modest startup six weeks after founding the company.
Jack got out of his chair and wearily strolled two doors down to where Bill was sitting. The ‘super editor’ as everyone called him, was very excited; the rough translation of the Feklisov memoir was coming through by email, chapter by chapter in compressed files. He was reading the beginning chapter and his eyes were riveted to the bluish screen.
Jack knocked symbolically on the open door,
“May I interrupt the master?”
“This text is amazingly good…I wonder how many ghost writers were involved…”
“Probably a dozen... Susan ...can you come here for a second?” asked Jack who was now feeling increasingly anxious. Once she arrived with her trademark cheery smile he closed the door and spent twenty minutes explaining the whole story to both of them as their jaws dropped. The initial reaction was one of universal elation: with that money the sky was the limit, all the wild projects they had discussed could be tackled much faster; they could hire some great people, real pros and so on. Then Jack began revealing his thoughts and fears: what could be hidden behind all this generosity? Who were these people? And did Glomar actually exist or was it simply a dummy corporation?
“Glomar? Finding that out is a cinch. I’ll get on it right away.” Susan who always preferred action to long brooding question and answer sessions with the boys returned to her workstation and began scanning the web.
Bill suddenly became nervous and fearful,
“Are we doing anything illegal by taking that money? You know, foreign money laundering and so on?”
“I don’t think so but we shall find out.”
“What do you mean?”
“First I‘ll go to the FBI, that‘s the best approach. We have doubts and we‘re asking about this contributing “angel”, that’s my position. That‘s all very legit, don’t you think?”
“You have an uncanny way of simplifying things Jack. I always fear there’s a hidden something somewhere ready to pop out and cream us.”
“I understand Bill and I feel the same way. I agree that it does look dangerous but then if we are up front about it maybe we can turn it to our advantage? Logically there’s no law against accepting a grant.”
Susan came back.
“No Glomar with a phone in Curaçao, that’s for sure. There is a Glomar Marine in New Orleans but it’s an old transportation company...been around 50 years. In Kuala Lumpur there is a Global Marine- KL Ltd. but not much more information than just a name, the address is apparently a legit suite of offices in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia.”
Jack wrote up ten invoices from Belmont to Glomar “for services rendered” as consultants and mailed them to the post office box in Curaçao. Then he made copies of the draft assignment between Belmont and the phantom Glomar Caribbean Ltd. and of the original agreement with Feklisov. With everyone’s assent he placed all these papers in his briefcase and took the subway down to the FBI offices in the World Trade Center.
It took about one hour for Jack Harrison to find himself face to face with FBI Special Agent Charles Murphy who carefully took notes as he listened to his story. After that Murphy left for twenty more minutes and returned with two other agents who observed the interview. The FBI only asked questions and didn’t volunteer any opinions or reactions which Jack fully expected would be the case. He was advised to inform the Bureau if there were any more contacts from the man called Igor or further transfers of cash. In closing Murphy said,
“As long as there is no known criminal origin to the funds or any intent to use them to commit criminal acts in this country the FBI’s role ends and the IRS picks up. I assume you know what the IRS requires?”
“Yes, well at least my accountant certainly knows.”
“Then for now we have no further input but we want you to call if you hear from that individual or others about any further activities connected to them.”
Murphy handed Jack his card and walked him politely to the elevator.
Two days later as the partners in Belmont Books were pondering what to do about the money that had suddenly hit their account a phone call came in for Jack. Igor’s unmistakable voice was on the line,
“I am not in the U.S. so I shall be brief. The funds you received are for the book, and today you will also get the money for the documentary. Instructions for that operation will follow. Understood?”
“Igor, I understand but what about a formal agreement for all this?”
“You have the money, just send us more invoices. Our agreement is the assignment of the contract, that’s all we need. Same method. Usual address.”
He hung up the phone. Jack couldn’t have known that would be the last time he or anyone would ever hear from Igor. The following morning as had been announced, Jack again checked the bank account and found that indeed an additional $1,834,567.09 had been tra
nsferred from the Chinese Sunrise Bank of Macao, a small bank in China PRC. The total balance on hand was therefore $4,455,177.10. Jack decided to go to the bank and obtain copies of the statements of the two wires with their origin and exact amounts. With those documents he paid a visit to his CPA located a few blocks north on Broadway. He was lucky to find Eddie Chong Park an old buddy who had become his accountant many years before. Eddie was Korean and very much into Asian finance, so he whistled and shook his head in amazement,
“How lucky can anyone be Jack? It had to happen to a nice guy like you! I tell you! But seriously, the FBI is correct: there’s nothing illegal in receiving funds and you did the right thing if you suspected that they might be of doubtful origin. But still... who the hell wires you 4 million plus bucks just like that with no written agreement, only asking for invoices…and the assignment of a contract for a translation? It sounds crazy and looks very suspicious. I‘m sure the IRS will ask many questions so we have to be in synch with the answers if only on the tax issues involved!”
Jack told Eddie that he was waiting for “instructions” from Igor or someone on his team.
“You know what? I don’t think you’ll have to wait that long! With all that money involved…” was Eddie’s comment.
He was right, the next contact came within a few hours, later that afternoon knocking at the door of Belmont Books. Susan opened on a stocky bearded artist type in his late 30s with long unruly black hair and dark glasses.
“My name is Koltsov, Sergei Koltsov, I was given your name by a common acquaintance: Alexander Feklisov in Moscow.”
He told Jack as he settled in front of the cluttered work table.
“So you must be the film maker, correct?”
“Precisely. I should add that Miss. Irina Orlova, whom I never had the pleasure of meeting by the way, called me in Boston where I have my studio. She told me to contact you about making a documentary about Colonel Feklisov and his fantastic career in espionage.”
The conversation immediately became extremely practical: Koltsov would produce and direct the film that would be in two parts, 90 minutes each. A portion would be shot in Moscow and a few other parts of Russia, the rest in New York and Washington DC with some possible outtakes in Ossining NY at Sing Sing penitentiary. Most of the dramatizations would be shot in the Boston studio, the rest would be newsreels from the period that were readily available but at a very high cost which explained the transfer of all that cash. It was clear that Kolstov already had a Russian copy of the text and had started working on an English language script. He was in a big hurry to start shooting even before he had a complete script. Jack then suddenly asked him,
“Have you ever met a man named Igor Lunacharsky? Or heard of the Glomar Corporation?”
Koltsov shook his head and looked puzzled,
“Glomar? Igor Lunacharsky? No, never heard those names before, both are completely unknown to me. Irina Orlova I only know as a voice on the phone, nothing more. But she did mention the fact that Belmont would be funding the production. Of that I‘m certain and that’s the reason I’m here.” He chuckled knowingly but it felt like an inside joke. Jack decided to move on,
“So, let’s talk business here: what is your budget for the whole project?”
Koltsov was prepared and had probably been working on his production plan for some time. He pulled out a 20 page proposal from his briefcase and handed it to Jack who skipped to the bottom line which he found tucked away in the final exhibits.
“$1.6 million is a hefty amount for a documentary film, Mr. Kolstov!”
The producer-director smiled knowingly,
“Well, look at the assumptions: 180 minutes of finished film is a pretty long and involved project with 45 set changes and 72 actors and talking heads, a total crew of 20 and an estimated 250 plus hours of editing, music and publicity…The most expensive part is securing permissions for large numbers of old newsreels that are owned by the likes of Cameron Films and so on. I think it all fits in pretty well along with a percentage for you, of course, Mr. Harrison. Or should I say Belmont Books?”
“Oh! That’s the first I have heard about any such fee or commission or whatever it may be called meant for Belmont?”
“Well it’s in there, $220k off the top to you personally as assistant producer, Ms. Orlova asked me specifically to slip it in. I guess she must like you a lot!”
Koltsov smiled at his supposed wisecrack and waited patiently for Jack to respond.
“Well, I shall read this proposal and get back to you…”
The film maker’s attitude suddenly changed and he bolted out of the armchair, almost belligerent as he put his hairy hand down a bit too hard on the papers piled in front of Jack’s desk.
“No, no, no, sorry, sir! That’s not the way we want to play this game, Mr. Harrison. You have the money, right? Fine, then take your share and transfer the rest to Santa Fe Pictures, my outfit. In the packet I gave you there is an invoice with my wire information, so you can pay it now!”
He smacked the pile of papers again forcefully enough to make a few of them fly off.
The man had an angry and threatening look on his face. But Jack remained seated and unruffled during that wild outburst. He leafed through the production plan once more and sure enough, located the invoice for $1.6 million that included the necessary information. There was very little to add once Susan knocked on his door with an email from Irina Orlova requesting precisely what Sergei had been asking. “A wire must go to Santa Fe Films in the amount of...as discussed with Glomar-KL etc.”
“Good, well it looks like you have a deal. Irina Orlova just emailed me…”
“The money had better be in my account tomorrow morning, Mr. Harrison…Jack…otherwise you’ll have another visit from me and my partners, and it will not be a happy one at all.”
Whether he was angry naturally or by design, Kolstov was extremely unpleasant to be around. Jack wondered what he would be like if he meant to do serious damage. On the other hand he certainly didn‘t intend to find out.
“Don’t worry Mr. Koltsov, my interest is for us to have a smooth relationship. We have a book we must get into the stores in a very short time frame.”
The director suddenly relaxed and sat down again for a few minutes as they went through some of the details of the filming. Jack made a point of ordering the wire transfer on the phone in Koltsov’s presence so that he would be reassured. After that done the director said,
“Good! After this we won’t need to have any further interactions until the film is done.”
Then he got up looked around the office and nodded at Jack. Without another word, he turned around and left.
XXXII
Special Agent Charles Murphy only had to take the World Trade Center elevator down four floors to walk into the CIA’s main liaison office covering the city and the Tri-State area. The FBI had to be extremely careful about respecting the boundaries set by Congress regarding counter intelligence and foreign intelligence. Since the Church hearings in the U.S. Senate in 1975 revealed how those limits had been severely tested by the “revelations” that almost destroyed the CIA, everyone was extremely cautious before taking any steps that could lead to an outcry from congress and the media. Internally the FBI facetiously dubbed the new file “Julie”, and it suddenly had precisely those overlapping characteristics that could at any moment trigger articles by investigative reporters about both agencies and provoke some very bruising turf wars.
After a few hours back and forth on secure phone lines and email with headquarters in Washington, the NY office was authorized to share the file with CIA locally while the Bureau did the same with Langley. The meeting in the WTC appeared to be a routine sharing of key information, most of it financial. Murphy‘s counterpart at the CIA inside the twin towers was Caleb Irvine who was beginning to look at the documents when the phone rang on the secure line from Langley.
“Something is coming up on the screen that you should look at.�
�� said Irvine, and he tilted the computer monitor so Murphy could see as well.
An enlarged California driver‘s license appeared and the name under the picture was that of Alfred Serge Koltsov. Then the CIA followed up with a more detailed extract from its file: “… born in Leningrad-St Petersburg on June 17, 1962, married to Esther Johnson, a U.S. citizen in 1990; green card issued in Los Angeles, 1991; became a citizen in 1995-- last year (1998) he and Ms. Johnson agreed to get a divorce. Profession: director and producer of documentary and educational films. To his credit three long documentaries on World War II for the History Channel. Lists an apartment in Santa Monica as secondary residence, his main residence is in Boston, Massachusetts where he runs a film studio.
The subject traveled to Russia several times since becoming a citizen and is known to have held meetings with suspected members of the SVR in Europe. In Berlin with a man identified as a close associate of Vyacheslav Mostovoy, a former KGB general now specializing in disinformation operations for the SVR. The man‘s real name is not known but in the photograph he was identified as Igor Lunacharsky. Records show that Lunacharsky is almost certainly a contract agent, not a case officer, and that he specializes in complex financial transactions, transfers of funds, dummy corporations and illegal money laundering. This would seem like a relatively small matter for someone of his stature to be involved in so we must remain vigilant and expect a far more ambitious agenda.”
Irvine nodded since he was familiar with similar profiles.
“Murphy, since this Igor photo is so hazy, can we ask Jack Harrison to sit down with a police artist and compile a better sketch of the man he met with. We could use it in discreet searches for his whereabouts overseas.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem.”
“I agree, but these days...you never can tell! Better we get all the paperwork straight first.” he laughed but didn‘t sound too convinced that it was funny.