by Marc Ruskin
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Which brings us to this poetic twist: the rabbis. New Jersey–based SA Bruce Kammerman, ex-Marine captain, SWAT team leader, fellow surveillance agent in the mid-eighties, old friend, and relatively secular Jew, had an enigma to solve. The crime was as serious as it was bizarre. The suspects and victims were all members of a singularly insular, impenetrable community: ultra-Orthodox Jews living since antiquity in a world apart, with their own social infrastructure and its own code of laws, interpreted and applied by its own judicial system, the Beth Din. To effectuate an Orthodox Jewish divorce, a husband has to provide his wife with a document known as a get: documentary proof of the dissolution of a marriage under Jewish law. If the husband refuses to give his wife the get, she can sue for divorce in a beth din, which would have the authority—moral and religious—to order the husband to issue the get. If the husband does not comply, he faces various penalties to pressure him into consent. Pity the poor woman whose husband still refuses to comply, under any and all circumstances. She becomes an agunah, a chained woman, and barred from a new marriage.
In the case confronting Bruce Kammerman, the line had been crossed: the appalling acts in question went well beyond the scope of the religious courts and their traditional enforcement mechanisms. I’ll quote from the story on the case in The New York Times (October 10, 2013): “In Brooklyn’s ultra-Orthodox Jewish neighborhoods, Mendel Epstein made a name for himself as the rabbi to see for women struggling to divorce their husbands.… While it’s common for rabbis to take action against defiant husbands, such as barring them from synagogue life, Rabbi Epstein, 68, took matters much further, according to the authorities.… For hefty fees, he orchestrated the kidnapping and torture of reluctant husbands, charging their wives as much as $10,000 for a rabbinical decree permitting violence and $50,000 to hire others to carry out the deed.…”
All true, but Bruce’s evidence against the rabbi was primarily anecdotal. The one or two wives he had interviewed were terrified by the prospect of testifying against respected elders, fearing the controversy that would follow. They would be ostracized, simple as that. Moreover, their uncorroborated testimony would have limited value in a secular court, particularly when directed at pillars of the community. An undercover operation would be the only vehicle for a winnable case. To this end, Bruce met first with the Deputy Assistant U.S. Attorney Gil Childers, the number-two federal prosecutor for New Jersey. Childers was known for his successful prosecution of the Blind Sheik in the first World Trade Center bombing. Before Bruce could mention my candidacy for the UC job, Childers said, No question, you’re going to need Marc Ruskin. Because experienced Jewish UCs are few in number? Who knows? I appreciated the compliment.
Bruce’s idea was to set up a fictitious disputed Orthodox divorce featuring three UCs: the divorce-seeking wife, the uncooperative husband, and the wife’s wealthy brother, who would bankroll the payoff to the target, Rabbi Epstein. A—perhaps the—experienced Jewish female UC had agreed in principal to play the wife. A Jewish UC based on the West Coast had been cast as her brother, alias John Miller. Would I be willing to play the uncooperative husband who had no idea what he was getting into? And, most importantly, could I develop a plausible scenario, one that would pass muster with a number of very intelligent subjects who were instinctively, comprehensively wary of the world beyond the insular Orthodox community? I would, and I could. I took a couple of weeks to do my homework prior to the strategy session Bruce conducted in the conference room at the FBI offices in Red Bank. The UC agent playing my estranged wife, Rachel, was present, along with a Janus representative, the Newark Undercover Coordinator, various squad members, and federal prosecutors. Rachel’s husband John participated via conference call from California. I presented my proposed scenario, code name RABBIS GET (my name for the case, not the official one, which was not made public).
Argentina has the world’s fifth-largest Jewish community, much of it Sephardic. Since Epstein and his co-conspirators were of Ashkenazi origin, they were not familiar with Sephardic customs and therefore would not be alerted to the sting by minor discrepancies. A Buenos Aires–based member of that Sephardic community, Alejandro Marconi (yes, that Marconi—me), frequently traveled to the United States, where he invested in a number of commercial real-estate projects, often with his California business associate, John Miller, Rachel’s brother. At a holiday party hosted by John (Hanukkah, not Christmas!), Rachel had met Alejandro and in due course had accepted a marriage proposal. Though several years younger than Marconi, spinsterhood loomed, and the prospect of a new, observant life in South America’s Jewish capital was alluring. Alas, two years later, having come to the realization that her husband was a cad, and on the verge of bankruptcy as well, Rachel returned to the States. Bitter and vindictive, Marconi refused to consent to a get. Refused, period.
Given that scenario, all of the Orthodox Jewish backstopping would be in Argentina. This would therefore not be just the usual driver’s license, Social Security card, credit cards, and wallet-filler type of op. Though all of those routine AFID items would be required, even for myself (Alejandro Marconi would need to be a verifiable “real” person, whether he met with the subjects or not), the bulk of the backstopping would consist of the documents and trappings that are the prerequisite indicia of a routine and ordinary life in the Orthodox community. Janus justly prides itself on backstopping virtually any imaginable alias and scenario, but an Orthodox Jewish family—from marriage all the way through dissolution—no, it is unlikely that any of the Janus offices had ever been asked to even imagine such a scenario, much less pull it off. The unit had no templates, no network of contacts, in this closed society. Reverting back to my COMMCORR days of do-it-yourself backstopping, the team and I would have to work all this out on our own.
I had a leg up on the problem. When stationed in Buenos Aires as the Assistant Legal Attaché, I had become close friends with Roberto Sarfati, former director of security for the Sephardic community. Without hesitation, he agreed to be point man in Argentina. As an observant Jew, he could identify stumbling blocks before they arose, suggest solutions, and be a partner in their implementation. Sarfati would provide a certified copy of his own Ketubah, the Jewish marriage contract. The FBI lab at Quantico would create a new, “aged” Ketubah with which Rachel could authenticate her marriage when meeting Rabbi Epstein and other subjects.
It was a solid scenario—I was proud of it, frankly—but there was one problem: as a new Group I, even with much of the AFID already in place, RABBIS would take a few months to get off the ground. With none of the AFID in place, a year was more like it. I did not have a year left before mandatory retirement. I had less than four months to go. Undeterred, can-do Bruce promised a second extension from JEH. Boundless enthusiasm notwithstanding, he was unable to pull this rabbit out of the hat. But there was another rabbit! With authorization from JEH, Bruce and the Newark office were allowed to keep me involved as a consultant for the duration of the case. This was an excellent development: it would ease my transition to a post-Bu, no-longer-an-insider life. I had designed the scenario and would help backstop the operation (a job that would require, in the end, two years). Now, my role would continue offstage. Alejandro Marconi would be a “real” presence in the RABBIS sting, but he would never meet face-to-face with the targets.
To take my imaginary scenario and transform it into a tangible reality would require an essential trip by Bruce and the UC team to Buenos Aires. Roberto Sarfati and I set it up, and I flew down three days early as an advance man to work out final details. (A fringe benefit: the opportunity to visit with aunts and uncles, cousins, and close friends in the Argentine capital.) Thanks to Roberto, the time spent was productive, invaluable, in fact, due to the unique nature of the required backstopping. After meeting with the Chief Rabbi of the Sephardic community and visiting his temple, we attended two Orthodox weddings. Pictures of Rachel and Alejandro at the synagogue were carefully staged and taken, along with ph
otos of the wedding reception at a well-known kosher restaurant. Other souvenir photos of better times were captured at various kosher eateries. A visit to Jewish neighborhoods and the Jewish Cultural Center that had been bombed by Hezbollah twenty years earlier (as noted in my account of my few years posted to the U.S. Embassy in Buenos Aires) rounded out everyone’s education. Rachel Marconi would now be able to converse comfortably with the targets in New Jersey about where she had worshipped, socialized, and shopped a world away in Buenos Aires. Likewise for her wealthy brother John, when discussing visits to the then-happy couple and business trips arranged by Alejandro.
Back in the States after a week in Buenos Aires, equipped with the necessary props, Rachel commenced the time-consuming procedures required for obtaining a religious divorce. Prior to approaching our primary target, Rabbi Epstein, she would have to exhaust all alternative paths and aggregate the documentation generated along the way.
All of which culminated on July 18, 2013, in a Shtar Seruv (contempt order):
Shtar Seruv
Alejandro Marconi, with an address of 5722 South Flamingo Road, Copper City, FL, has been summoned to the Beth Din of America by Rachel Marconi regarding her request for a Jewish divorce (Get).
Alejandro Marconi has failed to appear in front of the Beth Din of America or an alternative Beth Din for the purpose of giving a Get or submitting to Beth Din adjudication of Rachel Marconi’s request for a Get.
Alejandro Marconi is thus deemed a mesarev/avo Iedin, one who declines to appear in front of the Jewish courts according to Jewish law and Rachel Marconi is free to pursue any remedies permitted by secular law.
With the contempt order in hand, obtained from the Beth Din by a local rabbi known in the community, Rachel and John placed a call to Rabbi Martin Wolmark, the director of a local yeshiva and partner of Rabbi Mendel Epstein. Wolmark welcomed these new clients with sympathy and advice. He did take the precaution of asking the name of Rachel’s rabbi in Lakewood (her backstopped residence). Familiar with the rabbi with whom Rachel had cultivated a relationship—she was, naturally, a member of the congregation—he took the next step and brought Rabbi Mendel Epstein into a conference call. The three of them scheduled a face-to-face meeting with Epstein for two days later, August 13, at the rabbi’s home in New Jersey.
All of those intricate introductions and maneuvers were the result of more than six months of undercover work by Rachel—we had returned from Buenos Aires in the fall of 2012—and it was great work, the subjects had no reason to question Rachel’s veracity. Just another cash client with the same old problem. In the meetings that followed, Epstein detailed to Rachel and her brother John the efficacy of his methods. The kidnapping would last only a few hours. The “tough guys” would use electric cattle prods. If a five-thousand-pound bull could be thus incentivized, a recalcitrant husband would be sure to cooperate. They always did. Best of all, there would be no traces, none of the telltale signs of traditional torture. Epstein actually chuckled. If your husband should go to the police, who would believe such a story? Other husbands had tried, but the authorities would not even take the complaint. Convinced, Rachel and John made a $10,000 down payment and provided the rabbis with photos of Alejandro taken in Argentina. After all, Epstein’s kidnap team would have to ID their victim before the snatch. (At this stage of the sting, Bruce gave me a heads-up. They’ve got the pictures of you, Marc. Keep your eyes open, just in case. As I was living in New York City, it was a legitimate concern. I didn’t want things to get out of hand. Rachel, this is Rabbi Epstein. Good news, we came across you husband in the Diamond District, on 56th Street. He’s already signed the get … our favorite technique worked like a charm. No, thanks.)
As a final touch, Rachel and John played for the rabbis a recording of a call Alejandro Marconi had placed from Argentina to California—a recording that Rachel’s brother John had “secretly” recorded. We had prepared the script with Bruce and rehearsed it a couple of times. Upset that a seruv had been issued in New Jersey, my voice nearly trembling with rage, I accused John and Rachel of having deliberately mailed a copy to my family in Argentina, in order to upset them and tarnish my reputation in the community. Not to mention the effect such a scandal would have on my local business dealings. I angrily barked that I did not recognize the authority of those Ashkenazi rabbis up north, and would not be intimidated into granting the get. John accused me of infidelity. He had heard rumors concerning a new girlfriend, noting that I was still married as far as Jewish law was concerned. The heated exchange continued for five minutes, long enough to create a solid impression for a future intended audience. We made sure to tone down the vitriol toward the end. We were also businessmen, after all. We didn’t want to close that door, too.
Epstein was convinced. Who wouldn’t have been? He had many photos of the couple, the Ketubah, the Seruv, the taped phone call. He was ready to move. Only one issue remained: he couldn’t send his kidnap team to Buenos Aires. How could Rachel and her brother lure the husband to New Jersey? We were ready for this question, of course. John suggested a ruse. Placing business interests ahead of domestic issues, he would feign an inclination to engage in new projects with his brother-in-law, despite everything. A prime opportunity: purchasing a warehouse in a New Jersey industrial park. And John’s brother-in-law was such a greedy bastard he’d surely be interested. Lured from Argentina for purposes of a property inspection, Marconi would find a reception committee, ready to initiate a persuasion session.
On the evening of October 9, 2013—a year and a half into my post-retirement—I sat in the command post of the Newark FBI office as the kidnapping attempt unfolded. I was equipped with a covert cell phone, in the event that circumstances required John to call his brother-in-law—a conversation that would be overheard by those waiting to pounce. The kidnap team, secreted in the warehouse, consisted of two rabbis and six Orthodox enforcers, wearing bandannas and ski masks, equipped with rope, surgical blades, plastic bags, and a screwdriver. Everything worked beautifully. John arrived for the bogus property inspection accompanied not by his nonexistent brother-in-law Alejandro Marconi but instead by a large contingent of SWAT operators.
The initial headline in the Times read: “U.S. Accuses 2 Rabbis of Kidnapping Husbands for a Fee.”
Altogether, four rabbis and six others were arrested and indicted for conspiracy to commit kidnapping, attempted kidnapping, and actual kidnapping, the purpose of the crimes being to obtain money from the agunot (plural for agunah) and to threaten and coerce Jewish husbands to give their wives gets. The kidnapping charge itself was based on the testimony of the real husbands who had alleged that they actually had been kidnapped and tortured. The prosecutors theorized that the results of the UC op would bolster those cases. Defense attorneys replied to the accusations using the novel theory that prosecution of the defendants substantially burdened their free exercise of religion, in violation of the Religious Freedom Restoration Act. (This defense has played a pivotal role in numerous cases in recent years, albeit in very different contexts.) What’s more, the defense argued, such kidnappings were actually mitzvah—that is, good deeds, religious commandments, and that Jewish law authorized certain forms of force in furtherance of such good deeds. What chutzpah!
The case was tried before Federal District Judge Fredda Wolfson in Trenton. The jury took three days to deliberate.
All the subjects were acquitted on the kidnapping charges (the charges which were not based on the UC op). The prosecutors turned out to be wrong in their assumption that the conspiracy and attempt charges pertaining to intended kidnapee Alejandro Marconi would bolster the charges of actually kidnapping. The conspiracy and attempt charges held up, however. Rabbi Wolmark knew a lost cause when he smelled one and pled guilty on January 14, 2015, a month before the trial of the other rabbis, Epstein, Stimler, and Goldstein, all of whom were convicted. (David Epstein, son of Mendel Epstein was acquitted.) The “tough guys”—the enforcers—all pled guilty. Everyone would
have plenty of time to perform mitzvahs for their fellow inmates.
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And that was it. I retired on April 30, 2012—my mandatory date—they threw a party, and a week later my family was on a flight to Beijing. Six months later, I was practicing law again with offices in Lower Manhattan, only this time I saw the cases from a different perspective: I was representing defendants. My clients deserve and, I like to believe, receive the fullest expression of their legal rights, but they know the truth as well as I do: If the prosecution has good undercover work on its side, they’re in real trouble.
Epilogue
When I dream, I nearly always find myself in the heart of a UC op. Planning a complex and dangerous meet with fellow agents, entering a hotel room or driving into a parking lot for a meet with a subject, checking my recording devices and weapons. I wake to the realization that there will be no more meets: this chapter is closed. Although part of me would have wanted to continue as a UC past the point where I would have had to hobble to meets with a walker, I have come to accept the transition. There are a few kinds of undercover ops that I did not get to and which I would have liked to work—but not many. My three decades were pretty full.
Today’s Bu would not be quite as good a fit for me. Gone are the days of the lone wolf UC, the risk-taker out on his own, surviving by quick wits. As well, the ever-present humor and ceaseless banter, and the esprit de corps of the old Bu are becoming a thing of the past. The “paperless Bureau” that its bureaucrats have long aspired to has arrived, and with the new technology has come a generation of agent and analyst technocrats who are better suited for fighting crime facing a computer screen than a villain.
During my senior years as a BuAgent, I didn’t really believe retired colleagues when they assured me that there was indeed life after the Bureau. But I have come to realize they spoke the truth, so it is with optimism and without regrets that I tip a figurative cap to my old and cherished institution, and move on.