Missing Man Read online

  Bob sent her a quick apology. “Hey, sorry about that—hope I did not cause any problems … In the future, I promise to keep it between us girls until told otherwise—my bad!!!” he wrote. “NO problem,” Anne assured him. “I promise.”

  Switzerland was Bob’s first stop on his way to Dubai and Kish. He took a train to Neuchâtel to meet a friend, D’Arcy Quinn, an executive in the division of Philip Morris International that investigated cigarette counterfeiting. Quinn’s superiors had recently told him he was going to be fired because of his reliance on aging investigators like Bob whose sources were growing old and stale. Quinn wanted to dump dirt on the company before walking out the door and told Bob he had long suspected some Philip Morris executives were profiting from the illegal cigarette trade. He also warned him to be careful in Dubai because a major trafficker there had threatened to kill a company investigator.

  In Geneva, Bob spoke with two Swiss detectives about Semion Mogilevich and RosUkrEnergo. He had known one of the men, Philippe Séchaud, since the mid-1990s, when Séchaud joined a newly formed Swiss police unit aimed at Russian organized crime. Bob served as a mentor to him, and after Bob’s retirement from the FBI, Séchaud arranged for him to testify as an expert witness at the 1998 trial in Geneva of Sergei Mikhailov, a man who stood alongside Semion Mogilevich in the pantheon of Russian crime lords.

  The case ended with Mikhailov’s acquittal. Bob’s former FBI supervisor in New York, James Moody, told a writer he thought the case collapsed because of Bob’s poor courtroom performance, but Séchaud pointed out that key witnesses against Mikhailov were murdered prior to the trial’s start. The Swiss detective had stayed close to Bob and long admired his knowledge, enthusiasm, and tenacity. But when he saw Bob that February, he noticed a change in him. He seemed overwrought and anxious.

  While in Switzerland, Bob found plenty of reasons not to go to Iran—all he had to do was watch television or read a newspaper. The twilight war was heating up. In early 2007, American troops raided an Iranian consular office in the Iraqi city of Irbil and arrested five “diplomats” who U.S. officials said were really officers in Iran’s Revolutionary Guards. Militants infiltrated a U.S. military compound in Iraq and killed five American soldiers, an attack U.S. officials suspected was planned and financed by a special unit of the Revolutionary Guards called the Quds Force. It was also the Quds Force, White House officials believed, that was teaching Iraqi militia groups how to build more powerful improvised bombs. “I can say with certainty that the Quds Force, a part of the Iranian government, had provided these sophisticated IEDs that have harmed our troops,” President George W. Bush said at a news conference in early 2007. “I’d like to repeat, I do not know whether or not the Quds Force was ordered from the top echelons of the government. But my point is, what’s worse … them ordering it and it happening, or them not ordering it and its happening.”

  Bob had taken dangerous risks before. This time was different. He was going into enemy territory without a safety net or a fellow agent to bail him out. There wasn’t anyone with whom he could talk about it besides Ira, because he had made certain his friend was the only person besides Dawud who knew about his plan. He decided to write him.

  Uncle Ira:

  Greetings from Geneva—getting ready to fly Sunday-Monday to Dubai to conduct some quiet inquiries there and hopefully not run afoul of the tribal leaders in charge of that part of the Emirates—was told this morning (and that’s what prompted this e-mail) that one Western investigator made a routine question of one of his Emirates law enforcement contacts, something like, how many guys are in your unit, only to be told by his contact that he, the investigator, could literally be arrested for asking such a question. There is definitely a strong fear among even the most hardened of Middle East security guys that the climate is very, very hostile and one had to be very, very careful in this environment. I’m going to test the waters for a couple of days and if I don’t like what I continue to be hearing, I’m gonna be out of there.

  Which brings me to my visit to the island. I would like to share with you that prior to getting on the plane, I made an extensive number of shopping trips in Miami and picked up, using your list, a number of CD’s and DVD’s (Richard Pryor and the other kid)—stuff that should bring a smile to our friend’s face. What I’m seeing on T.V., however, continuously on CNN International is the Middle East being worked up into a real paranoid state over possible invasion, airstrikes, etc. on that particular country. As a result, I am now really, really concerned that an American from Florida traveling over there in the midst of this environment is going to attract a great deal of attention (both from the natives as well as the services) and, as a result, put this man’s ass in quite a bit of jeopardy. What I guess I would like from you is to ask our friend, prior to Wednesday, the 21st, to confirm that he believes the island is, in fact, a more relaxed environment, that the arrival of a tall, handsome, obviously American (overweight, as he is) is not going to place ME or HIM in jeopardy.

  I guess as I approach my fifty-ninth birthday on the 10th of March, and after having done quite a few other crazy things in my life, I am questioning just why, at this point, with seven kids and a great wife, why I would put myself in such jeopardy. The answer, I keep telling myself, is that YOU went over there, to the capital, no less, and came back in one piece. My problem is that I’m not a journalist, will have no real live backup the BAT letter notwithstanding, and just wanted to be reassured that if I spend twenty-four hours there on the island, I’m not going to wind up someplace where I don’t really want to be at this stage in my life …

  If our friend says, hey it ain’t gonna be like the mainland, it’s a vacation spot, relax, etc. (and by the way, the local airline, the hotel people, all have been very, very pleasant and accommodating—all is confirmed for my arrival, with a room with two beds, etc. per our friend’s recommendation) then I’m going to proceed and fuck it, do what needs to be done. If, as I’m reading, the stakes have been elevated over the last week or so, Bush’s news conference, the military’s efforts to document the supplying of better improvised things etc., well I’m going to reconsider and ask our friend to postpone things.

  I truly believe that he has stuff worth going over and getting for this country. I’m just looking for a little reassurance that I’m not being too crazy at this age.

  In his response, Ira pointed out that the circumstances of his visit with Dawud in 2002 after the release of the film Kandahar were different.

  Not easy to assess this one. True, I did eight days in the capital but I was with the Canadians and that may have given me some cover. Also, we had press visas, and the Canadians had talked to the people in the embassy in Ottawa about going over to do a story about the movie he was in. My thought is to hear what he has to say, but if you are not at ease with this, we should wait for a better time.

  Two hours later, after speaking with Dawud, Ira sent Bob another note.

  Our guy just called. Very relaxed. He says you should just think about it as coming over for a long lunch. He sees no problems for himself or for you. Says he will be in the lobby early morning wearing a black beret.

  Bob felt his fears ease. He told Ira he felt a little embarrassed about sounding the alarm.

  Thanks so much for resolving this—

  Couple of things to pass along if it’s not too imposing:

  1. Earliest flight I can get on Thursday morning leaves at 10:30 AM from Dubai and I have a reservation on it.

  2. I have a reservation to return on the 8:30 PM flight on Friday from K back to Dubai—Is our friend planning to stay for only the day as I had made a reservation at the hotel for one night for one room with two beds. Should I stay for the day and take the 8:30 PM evening flight back? I know I’d feel a lot better spending as little time there as I have to. Also, will it cause him a problem if I don’t stay overnight, because I will do so if needed—

  3. Can you confirm, one more time, the amount of funds he’s expecting to
be reimbursed for time off from work—I also need to know if he is expecting that in USD or their currency, which I suppose I can exchange at the airport—just need to know how much and what kind.

  Best wishes and thanks—again with the situation in the media, I needed to know from his perspective whether things were nice and calm.

  Last thing, love that touch with the beret in the lobby. Sounds like something out of “Casablanca.”

  Not long afterward, Ira forwarded Bob a rambling note from Dawud containing the fugitive’s thoughts about Iran’s political situation. For months, Ira had told Dawud that Bob was collecting information about former president Rafsanjani’s investments in Canada and that he planned to bring his dossier to their meeting on Kish. In his note, Dawud explained to Ira that he was rethinking how to best use the information, or the “North Country files,” as he called the material. In early 2007, the former Iranian president was in the midst of a political comeback because of growing public dissatisfaction with the country’s current leader, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. Rafsanjani’s past sins, Dawud said, seemed increasingly forgivable compared with Ahmadinejad’s politics.

  Have been concentrating on the matter at hand—and in particular the almost forgotten story of the North Country files. Perhaps it is too late to talk about this but after our conversation this morning I came up with a way in which the material could possibly be put to positive use.

  The reason for the reluctance on this side, as I mentioned, is that the subject has been given a new political life thanks primarily to the Little Man with the big mouth. Our subject also seems primed for an upward change in fortunes and the simple truth is that despite the many deep blemishes, he remains the most dynamic and intelligent of his kind.

  … If I had in hand the North Country stuff I believe I can put it to positive use PRIVATELY AND DIRECTLY and not for public consumption. Understand that things over here are done differently and that it would be to no one’s benefit to do an expose but it could be an intangible and significant gesture to present the thing to him as a measure of both good will and a wake up call.

  … Keep in mind that things here are complicated, few will try anything and I was lucky to be born black and in America, as it is a given that “niggers are crazy”—but that insanity sometimes unleashes bursts of creative energy that have an impact. I am feeling like that right now.

  The following day, Bob went to the Geneva airport. He never made it onto his British Airways flight. When an airline purser checked his passport, he saw it contained an Israeli stamp. Bob was so inexperienced about traveling in the Middle East he hadn’t known to ask to have his Israeli entry stamp put on a separate form rather than in his passport. The purser told him officials in Dubai might refuse him entry. He realized there was little choice but to return to Florida and get a fresh passport. Bob asked Ira to alert Dawud that their meeting needed to be rescheduled. When he touched down in Miami, he notified Anne he was back and they should talk soon. She responded:

  Hey hey!! Glad you’re back SAFELY. I always worry about you when you travel. (I can only imagine what your wife goes through…)

  Anyway … I’m traveling tomorrow (Wednesday and Thursday) but can be reached on my cellphone around dinnertime tomorrow. I plan to hunker down in my crappy hotel room in Columbus Ohio and work on a yoga article I’m trying to write …

  We missed you!

  Tim sends his very best …

  Back in Florida, Bob rescheduled his Dubai trip and told Ira to let Dawud know they could meet on Kish on March 8. Ira sent him an article Dawud had just written for the news website run by Joe Trento, the freelance writer whom the late Carl Shoffler tried to dupe in his effort to capture Dawud. Since their initial meeting a decade earlier, Trento had remained in regular contact with Dawud, and he asked the fugitive in early 2007 to share his perspectives about relations between the United States and Iran. Dawud focused his article on two men, whom he described as inspirations to him. One of them was an Iranian official who tried to curb drug use. The other man was Carl Shoffler. In the article, he celebrated the deep personal bonds forged between the late detective and himself, omitting any mention of Shoffler’s ploy to arrest him.

  A lot of what we discussed dealt with how to overcome culture divides and the reciprocal misperceptions and animosities bred by misunderstanding that roiled then and even more so today the pulsating antagonism between Teheran and Washington. Of course that agenda was impossible to accomplish but at least the two of us gave it our best shot.

  After Bob read the article, he wrote back to Ira.

  He’s obviously a brilliant guy and has a great way with words. I am reminded of what you said about him having literally thrown his life away with “Maryland.” Talk soon. This was an enormous help in understanding him a little better.

  On March 2, 2007, the day before Bob left home for the final time, he met with sources in Miami who provided him with information about money laundering techniques used by the FARC, the paramilitary group in Colombia. Couriers for the FARC were allegedly transporting huge quantities of dollars from the United States into Mexico and then on to Panama, where the funds were being deposited in banks. A $39 million shipment was about to be moved, and one of Bob’s contacts was optimistic that he could recruit a courier and infiltrate the ring. Bob typed up the report and another one about FARC money laundering and sent them to Anne, who wrote him back: “OOH! Excellent … And very timely … thank you thank you thank you.”

  Bob told her he could get the CIA lots more: “My guys are very, very close to all the action and we are in a position to do more. I’d probably have to go there after my return from across the pond on the 12th. Pls let everyone know we can, in fact, do more on this.”

  Anne replied the Illicit Finance Group couldn’t officially assign, or “task,” him on more new projects, apparently until his contract supplement worked its way through the CIA’s bureaucracy: “You hit a home run out of the park with the stuff!!! We can’t, of course, task you on anything. But let’s just say it’s GREAT material.”

  Bob told her he understood: “Message received, no need to say more. I’m hoping that by the time I get back on the 12th, they will have had all those meetings and I get a call from the people re that add’l 10. I’ll then do what needs to be done.”

  8

  An Appointment on Kish

  It was time to go. On the morning of Thursday, March 8, Bob left his room at the Marriott Towers in Dubai and rode the elevator to the lobby. He spoke to a desk clerk who took his large, hard-shelled suitcase and handed him a baggage check. It didn’t make sense for him to lug it to Kish Island for one night. His big black binder filled with photographs of Russian gangsters was inside, and Bob didn’t want to explain to a curious Iranian cop why he was carrying it. He filled a small roll-on bag with a change of clothing, his toiletry kit, and the presents for Dawud. He got into a cab and headed for the airport.

  Dubai proved to be a bust for his Global Witness investigation of Semion Mogilevich. He tried to figure out how to approach the local police but none of the ways worked. Soon after arriving, he had met for lunch with four men who worked as investigators or security officers for the State Department, the DEA, and other U.S. agencies at a restaurant in the Emirates Towers, a Dubai landmark. Bob spent the meal telling stories about his FBI days chasing Russian gangsters. Afterward, he opened his binder and showed his companions photographs of Mogilevich and other Russian rogues. No one recognized the pictures, and the investigators told him they hadn’t heard about any recent arrests by the Dubai police of Russian criminals. They exchanged business cards with Bob and wished him good luck.

  The rest of his time in Dubai was spent on other business. The judge in the Bank of Cyprus lawsuit was finally ready to issue a ruling and Bob had started to worry that the law firm involved, Reed Smith, might balk at paying his bill. From Dubai, he emailed a lawyer in New York named John Moscow, whom Bob knew from Moscow’s days as a top prosecutor in the office o
f Manhattan’s famed district attorney Robert Morgenthau, and told him he might need his help getting the money.

  I’ve been a good, quiet boy for a year and a half now and am hoping that [they] are men of their words; i.e. if Reed Smith wins, I get paid in full ($108G). If you wouldn’t mind following up on this, again, I plan to compensate you for time & expenses involved.

  He exchanged emails with some of his children. Dan was still teaching in Japan and wrote his father that he had managed to fix his computer, which was making a strange whirring sound.

  Just a quick message to tell u Grandpa Harold would have been proud. I went out and bought a screwdriver set the other day. That night I couldn’t sleep and realized I should check out my laptop. So I took it apart, found a giant thing of lint blocking my fan, and removed it. It is dead silent now and it doesn’t get hot at the bottom. It was the best thing I’ve done all week. I might not need a new laptop after all. Anyways, I hope all is well in Dubai.

  Bob wrote back.

  Hey, boy am I proud of YOU, pal. Ya know the joke I always use with your mother is “how many Jewish guys does it take to screw in a lightbulb? She always answers—one to make the call to someone to do the work. Oh well, congratulations on fixing your laptop. I’m still gonna get you a new one for law school. That’s a promise. Love ya, running off right now for an appointment and very proud of Daniel Levinson.

  Bob also sent a note to his youngest daughter, Samantha, who was then sixteen. As a young girl, Samantha had been very shy, a little like her mother, and Bob had worked to coax her out of it. She would accompany him on Saturday mornings to the local bagel place. At first she hid behind her father. But he insisted she order, and eventually Samantha, whom Bob nicknamed “Turtle,” started to get over her shyness. She was now a junior at Coral Springs High School and was giving a speech that day during a student government election. Bob offered his encouragement.