Tumen Transit. The beginning of Baltic Security
Part 10: Detective from Riga, Latvia. Tumen Transit. Memoirs of Michael Chernousov.
I gained my first experience as a private detective while still in uniform. After defending my dissertation at the Academy of Management of the USSR Ministry of Internal Affairs, at the insistent request of General Anri Karlovich Kavalieris, I returned to Riga and taught operational investigative work at our Higher Police School. Private detective work was becoming fashionable, and I developed a Statute on Detectives, which was discussed in our department, approved, and sent to the Latvian Ministry of Internal Affairs. Later, as Chairman of the Latvian Detective Federation, I was invited to the Saeima several times to discuss the Law on Detective Activity. Therefore, the theoretical foundations of private detective work were familiar and close to me, and later, I gained practical experience.
The Soviet Union was rapidly approaching collapse, and wild capitalism was sweeping all spheres of life. There wasn’t enough money to live on, and I, a young police major and the only candidate of science in operational search and rescue operations in the entire Baltic region, was forced to work part-time as a security guard at a police cooperative, which was very stressful.
Then, on the recommendation of my childhood friend, Alexei T., a reputable employer appeared—a former instructor of the Central Committee of the Latvian Komsomol, Valery Pavlovich M. (V.P.M.), who had set up an office and a small production facility on Valmieras Street. Valery Pavlovich’s business was booming, and he invited me to set up a security service at his company. I recruited police cadets and several fellow officers, and while guarding V.P.M.’s office, we also earned some extra money on other assignments: we provided security for the “look-alike,” “Miss Beauty,” and “Miss Bust” contests hosted by Vladimir I., and maintained order at the Riga Hotel casino.
One day, Valery Pavlovich asked me to urgently go to Tyumen, as the company’s manager and my friend Alexey T. had run into serious trouble there. Alexey and another freight forwarder, Valdis, had been taken hostage by local bandits, who stole their money and documents, while two new GAZ-66 military vehicles purchased by V.P.M. were sitting at the train station, undelivered, with fines still pending.
Alexey reported over the phone that the bandits were demanding a ransom, and he had been sent to the post office to collect the money order. Otherwise, the forwarder Valdis wouldn’t be released, and the owner would never see the escorted vehicles or their documents again…
Due to budget constraints, I was tasked with rescuing the victims and the valuable cargo alone. Taking sick leave from my primary job at the police academy, I flew to Tyumen on the next available flight. I had no ransom money, no weapons (I had no plane), and no escort team.
We agreed over the phone with Alexey that he would inform the gang about the incoming money transfer, and we would meet at the main post office and decide what to do. We both understood the difficulty of the task, but those were the days… Alexey still hoped that I would bring the money, the bandits would calm down, and his partner, the documents, and the cargo would be returned.
Arriving in Tyumen and meeting near the post office at the appointed time, I immediately noticed that Alexey was being followed. It’s understandable; bandits aren’t fools, after all, and they had to keep an eye on the client! It’s hard to lose your tail in an unfamiliar place, but using alleys, backyards, and other tricks, we managed it and “disappeared” into the big city. After thoroughly checking in, we didn’t stay in hotels, but rented a private room for the night in some slum.
Alexey, a friend of mine from OKOD and whom I trusted completely, told me the details of what happened. He and Valdis, on behalf of V.P.M., had come to Tyumen to register and ship the purchased vehicles to Riga. These military GAZ trucks were fully equipped for travel and life in the most challenging conditions, even in the impenetrable taiga: a powerful engine, high cross-country ability, an independent diesel generator, a miniature kitchen, equipped sleeping areas… I wouldn’t refuse such an all-terrain vehicle even now!
The freight forwarders stopped for a couple of nights at the Yuzhny auto campsite. They had documents and money to ship the cargo to Riga by rail. The trucks were loaded onto flatcars, and all that remained was to complete minor formalities and pay the railway duties. On the eve of the final day, our guys decided to have dinner at the campsite bar. They had a few drinks and immediately came under pressure from the local “protection” group, which operated the campsite. What followed was typical: they were beaten, their money and documents were confiscated, one hostage was locked in the basement, the other was released under surveillance to the post office with a ransom demand, and the cargo sat at the freight station under mercilessly accumulating interest.
Under these circumstances, negotiating with the bandits with only an empty wallet and promises to pay—but later—was pointless. So, early in the morning, Alexey and I, taking precautions, went to the local criminal investigation department, where we filed a report of the crime and explained the situation.
I showed my police academy teacher’s ID and introduced myself to the head of the Criminal Investigation Department. We chatted like colleagues, but I didn’t see much enthusiasm in his eyes. They accepted our application and promised to review it, but they didn’t do anything else, as everyone was busy with their own affairs. Our hopes for a prompt response from a rescue team were dashed, and we still had to rescue the cargo, the penalty interest rates for which were growing with each passing hour!
So I had to resort to a little tweaking. On police letterhead, in the name of the head, I typed a letter on the department’s typewriter to the head of the Tyumen Railway Administration, asking for all penalties related to the platform downtime to be waived, stating their platform numbers. And to dispatch the cargo to Riga immediately, without delays at junctions. Getting the secretary to stamp it, present a chocolate bar, and smile sweetly wasn’t difficult at all. The Tyumen region’s size and freight volume far exceeded the entire Baltic region, so it’s not hard to imagine that the railway administration there was much larger than our Ministry of Railways. When I arrived at the railway administration, the director was holding a large meeting, and appointments were scheduled down to the minute. This meant that trying to get an appointment with him could take a very long time.
And then, as the saying goes, “every cloud has a silver lining!”
While I was in the reception area, the secretary unexpectedly received a call from the head of the criminal investigation department, whom I already knew. He said he was looking for a detective from Riga with a police ID with my name on it. If I showed up, he asked me to report to the police station immediately. It’s surprising today, but back then, there really weren’t any cell phones, and you had to call a landline! I just happened to be at the phone, and we immediately spoke! It turned out that the Tyumen detectives had woken up because on that very day, at the Yuzhny campsite, a gangland shootout had broken out, resulting in several dead bodies… But our freight forwarder, Valdis, was alive, well, and at large! I told the head of the criminal investigation department that I was very busy at the railway, but as soon as I was free, I’d report to the police station.
After that, decisively, without permission, I went to the head of the Tyumen regional railway department and, in the presence of a large number of his subordinates, handed him the letter I’d prepared on behalf of the police chief. I didn’t insist, but demanded, that our cargo be immediately dispatched to Riga, citing that people were already being shot in Tyumen due to the delay in sending these vehicles.
My request was unexpectedly quickly granted, the letter was initialed, and the cargo was cleared for dispatch all the way to Riga. Forwarders Valdis and Alexey went to escort the cargo in comfortable conditions… And I rushed to the airport to fly to Riga, since it wasn’t the bandits who were looking for me anymore, but the local Criminal Investigation Department, secretly suspecting me of involvement in the liquidation of local criminals.
The next morning, I call the head of the Criminal Investigation Department in Tyumen from my employer’s office in Riga. “Where are you? We’ve lost you, we need to meet you, debrief you! And what was your team doing at that campsite anyway? We had two dead bodies and several wounded in the team that took the hostages!” he asks. “And who were these victims, good people or bad?” I ask. “Yes, local bandits, real thugs! And the case is shady, you know where, and there are no leads!” replies the colleague on the line. “Oh well, one shady case more, one less. You’ll solve it someday.” But I wasn’t even at the crime scene and wasn’t involved in the showdown. And I won’t be able to meet you anytime soon; I’m already in Riga, sorry!”…
It was the turbulent summer of 1991. Soon after the events described, both train platforms with their cargo safely arrived in Riga, and a month later, the Union ceased to exist.
Thus began my private detective work, which would last for over 20 years.
Source: https://mc-advokats.lv/
