Val Karren - The Deceit of Riches

“Really? We haven’t discussed this at all at the city council meetings. There hasn’t been any permit request or anything filed with the city hall or the governor’s office. Are you sure it’s not just a dream of his? Did he tell you a timeline on his plans?” Del was rather confident that this wasn’t real.

“He showed me the master planning drawings, looked real to me but I’m not an architect nor engineer of course. He said they expected to have the question about the land title settled in June before the summer holidays and they would start digging in February or March next year. There was something about not being able to lay a foundation in the autumn…” I heard Del begin where I l left off, “…because the ground will freeze and thaw causing it to sink in the spring…,” Del’s voice trailed off. He was pensive and paused for a few moments. “Hmmm… he’s obviously done his homework. What else can you tell me?”

I went over my notes again for a few minutes and did my best to recall the conversation behind each line of notes.

“What puzzled me the most was that he has no foreign investors nor domestic bank financing. He tells me that he is planning to finance it all with his own money and partner investors. He may make enough money to live like a local prince, but I can’t imagine the sale of imported cars and radios to be enough to purchase and build such a palace of a place. Not even with the bit of pimping, drugs, and racketeering that he does,” I ventured. “How much would it cost? You probably have a very good idea of that, Del.”

“He would need at least one hundred twenty-five million US dollars to build a basic three-star hotel. Without him being invested in oil, coal or other natural resources he wouldn’t have that type of liquidity. His partners would have to bring that to the table.” Del was rubbing his chin thinking.

“I’m sorry, but we didn’t discuss his partners, in fact, he tossed me out right after he showed me those master plans. It all ended very abruptly,” I added to break the awkward silence.

Just then, Els who had been listening from the kitchen came into the living room and sat down across from me on the sofa and asked, “Peter, what specifically did he say before the interview ended?”

“He said he was busy. He said he had to get back to his work and his secretary would show me out.” I didn’t understand what she was wanting to know.

“No, no. There must have been something he said that he didn’t want any further questions about.” Els spoke as she took the swivel chair next to Del and looked me in the face, “To tell all the information he told you about how he started, about his expansion plans and the rest he must have seen you somehow immediately hostile and therefore ended the conversation quickly. Was it right after you were asking him questions about the financing that the interview ended?” Els had heard something in my story and had now honed in on what had not been said.

“Yes, that’s where it ended and then I was shown out.” I still wasn’t able to put the pieces together.

Els turned to Del, “There must be something in the financing of the plans that he does not want anybody to know. He wouldn’t go reading his biography to a curious foreign student and then just stop all the sudden after a few more inquisitive questions. He could have made up a story about the financing and Peter wouldn’t have been any the wiser for it and moved on. He stopped the interview and threw him out? There is something very sensitive that he is hiding in the financing of the hotel, something so personal that he doesn’t dare discuss it with anybody.”

I sat blinking at the both of them stunned and shocked. I felt a shadow agenda between them and the edge of the veil had been lifted for me to glimpse it but not understand it.

“You see, kid,” Del said to me, “Els worked as a criminal psychologist. She worked for twelve years with the FBI before we met in San Fransisco. Sorry to spook you like that. She is indispensable in this country for understanding people’s behaviors and motives, especially when they are lying.”

Els turned to me now, “Peter there must have been something else he said, some tip that he let slip that made him realize he had just told you too much. He didn’t mean to say it because he doesn’t have a cover story. He’s not good at thinking on his feet so he just threw you out of his office instead of trying to cover his tracks.”

I looked back through to my notes again and chewed on my pen vigorously.

“It would have been just before he threw you out, not early in the meeting.” She was coaching my memory like a hypnotist.

“I’m sorry. You have to remember that when I listen I translate right into English as I’m writing and sometimes I miss a sentence or two while I’m writing an important line. I miss lots of things still,” I was a bit frantic as I felt I was being interrogated now. Els’ voice stayed calm and soothing, “It would have been about the financing of his project. What questions did you ask him? What questions would you still like to ask him to learn more?”

“OK,” I took a deep breath to relax, “The question that remains in my mind is why he was so confident that he would get the building permit for that land when there is a competing, foreign money backed project slated for the same ground. Also, how could he possibly come up with the cash to finance this if he didn’t trust banks and foreigners.”

“Did he say that much?” she asked to clarify Mr. P’s words from my interpretations.

“Yes, he said specifically that borrowing money from foreigners would only keep Russia held back and that the banks would only steal the land from him eventually.” I blurted out.

“Was it specifically about the land? Was he not talking about the hotel project?” she asked again a pinpointed question.

“No, he was talking about the land rights or land purchase. There was a question of leasing or owning,” I remembered.

Del nodded his head, “That’s correct. A renewable ninety-nine-year lease or outright purchase. The laws are being changed right now. We don’t know what the final bill will allow.”

All of a sudden, my mental dam broke! “He said his father had left him some money that he would purchase the LAND with! That was the last thing he said to me before he rolled up the plans and kicked me out. He didn’t even shake hands, he just tossed me out.”

“Well done, Peter.” Els looked at Del with an expression that asked a show of appreciation for her assistance.

“Well done, Els!” Del chirped.

Els stood up and looked at us both and asked “Something to drink, boys?”

After cold bottles of Pepsi were passed around and opened we sat in the living in the room and the interrogations continued.

“What do you think he meant about his father leaving him money?” I asked Del. “From my understanding, there was no such thing as an inheritance in the Soviet Union. Everything belonged to the state and you couldn’t pass down property or assets to your family because it wasn’t yours to keep. The state was there to take care of orphans and widows, in theory, and therefore inheritance wasn’t allowed.”

“True, but that changed in about 1989 when the good citizens could start making profits and buying property and foreign investors could buy shares in state enterprises. Owning property did become legal, and now we’re a few years later as well. It’s possible his father was also a government crony and privatized some state assets into his name, like Gazprom for example. Maybe his father got rich overnight and left him shares in a privatized state enterprise… or stashed in a foreign bank,” Del speculated.

“No, he said his father was an engineer and lived here in Nizhniy Novgorod,” I discounted Del’s theory with more information from my interview.