Who Is Andrei Kozlenok?
Brilliant Betrayal and Dazzling Deceit
“One of the greatest lootings of Mother Russia since the end of the Cold War happened in 1993: a corrupt Russian bureaucrat and his young protégé concocted a scheme to help the Kremlin extort billions from the De Beers diamond cartel while secretly siphoning $180 million in raw diamonds from the Russian State Treasury to purchase luxury properties, cars, and jets around the world. Many Americans, including Hilary Clinton, Al Gore, and the mayor of San Francisco were unwittingly roped into this scheme.” David Junk, author of Dirty Diamonds: How Post Soviet Kleptocrats Looted Russia’s Deep Diamond Deposits
Settling into my seat on the flight, I leaned back, listening to the steady rhythm of the plane’s engines. Further in the background, the soft noise of flight attendants filled the cabin, and passengers' voices blended into a soft background hum. The sound of white noise is calming and relaxing. After a hectic ride to the airport, negotiating long check-in lines, and running like a manic to my gate, I looked forward to this moment. I could finally loosen up, have a drink (which back then in the 90s was a Diet Coke), and breathe. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. Once I am comfortable on a long flight, the first thing I do is read. I always bring airplane books and several magazines to occupy my time. I want to zone out, so this isn’t a time for deep thinking. Usually, I take along a good airplane book that captivates my attention and is easy to follow, making the hours in the air feel faster. Magazines come along, too, so I bring along several, and they provide plenty of short articles I can read between napping. I got good and comfy, opened one, and the article's title caught my gaze. I can’t remember the article's name, but the headline about a Russian diamond scandal caught my attention as I quickly turned the pages, scanning the text for anything recognizable. Then there it was! A familiar face! The man I met in San Francisco the previous summer of 1995. Andrei Kozlenok stared up at me from the magazine page. It was him.
I was excitedly read the words coming at me about the scandal. Andrei Kozlenok is the Russian key figure associated with the subterfuge involving the Russian diamond trade in San Francisco that emerged in the mid-1990s, when allegations surfaced that Kozlenok and others were involved in the illegal importation and distribution of diamonds from Russia, violating U.S. laws and regulations. Details surrounding the controversy indicated that Kozlenok and his associates— two Armenian friends who had immigrated to the United States, brothers David, and Ashot Shagarian were accused of importing diamonds through various deceptive means, running afoul of both federal and international regulations regarding the diamond trade, including issues related to conflict diamonds and proper declaration of goods. I thought I was reading a movie transcript for a James Bond movie. It had all the elements: Intrigue, glamour, and deception, complete with charismatic figures, a backdrop of luxury, and the ever-present tension of high-stakes crime, are set in up-scale San Francisco and Moscow, where the luxury of the diamond trade gives it a glamorous and suspenseful backdrop. It was a living movie, and I was in it.
This is how I made Andrei Kozlenok acquaintance. A magic convention is a gathering of magicians, enthusiasts, and fans dedicated to the art of magic and illusion for learning, creativity, camaraderie, entertainment, and exploring new skills. Competition and gala shows are at the center of these mostly annual get-togethers. The International Brotherhood of Magicians is a highly rated organization of professional and amateur magicians who meet yearly for their convention. In the summertime of 1995, it took place in Oakland, California, and The Pendragons were the stars of the final night dinner and gala show. Besides watching new talent and discovering new magic, my favorite part about magic conventions is the people. I enjoy them because this is where I meet friends I haven’t seen —sometimes in many years, and it’s a great place to make new acquaintances and friends. So I was excited to discover that a Russian friend I’d made on a trip to Europe was visiting the convention. It was unusual to see him there, and it was a big surprise. As it turned out, he had made a home in San Francisco performing his unusual and eccentric magic comedy act at the Teatro Zinzanni, a circus dinner theater located near the San Francisco Wharf in San Francisco, California, featuring the most intriguing live entertainment combining a novel and unequaled fusion of comedy, circus, magic, live music, and cabaret. It is a spectacle starring some of the world's finest variety and circus artists. We were all overjoyed to see one another and later asked to join them at their friend’s home in Orinda, who was sponsoring him in the United States for a barbecue later in the week. We already had plans for the day of the invitation but decided to attend later on our way to Lake Tahoe. I just wanted to stop in to say hi.
On the barbecue day, we left Oakland early to go to San Francisco to spend the morning and early afternoon with my brother Kelly and his family, who live in Northern California. San Francisco is a city I’ve always loved; what’s not love? John Steinbeck perfectly described it, “A city on hills has it over flatland places. New York makes its hills with craning buildings. Still, this gold and white acropolis rising wave on wave against the blue of the Pacific sky was a stunning thing, a painted thing like a picture of a medieval Italian city that can never have existed.” And songs about her best capture the essence of this exquisite city, which was our family’s first home when we moved from Montana to California in 1956 when I was 2 years old. Although our stay was short, and I barely have memories of being a toddler in San Francisco during that time, my great aunt, two aunts, and uncle and two of my mother's cousins and their families remained in San Francisco, and often, we’d visit this alluring metropolis on a hill. On visits, I’d stay with my grandmother’s sister, Great Tante Emelia, who we called Emelia Tante. Tante is German for Aunt and is used at the end of the proper name. Her beautiful Victorian-style apartment featured lovely front bay windows and a private roof patio, where you had a 360° view of the city. The only place I looked was north, where I saw what John Steinbeck described perfectly: “The afternoon sun painted her white and gold—rising on her hills like a noble city in a happy dream.” The white buildings layered at various levels and rose on the hills with the Pacific Ocean and sky as a backdrop was something you please wo a couldn’t take your eyes from….and the sun glistened off them, complimenting the stunning fiery ribbon with its golden towers reaching past the blue sky to the heavens and spanning the Golden Gate Strait from San Francisco to Sausalito across the bay. The Golden Gate Bridge arched gracefully over the churning waters, uniting land and sea. And when the fog rolled in, it ascended like a sentinel in a dream through the ethereal mist. This was my San Francisco; no one else could see it like I could from my Tante’s rooftop.
I imagined everything in the world from that viewpoint. A place where my mind could wander and the world was mine. That spell was always broken when we had to return to our home in the valley. As cliché as it sounds, I would cry, leaving my heart in San Francisco just like the famous song best sung by Tony Bennett. But I knew I’d be back for my heart, and just like Steinbeck, “I couldn’t sleep for several nights before, out of busting excitement,” when I knew we were returning to the City. It does leave its mark.
I wasn’t going to trade a day with my family in the City for a barbecue in Orinda, so we left San Francisco about five o’clock for the get-together. We had to rely on directions given by the host, who sent us through the winding roads throughout the hills east of the Bay. I didn’t think we would ever find their home. This was before GPS, so it took us until 7:00 in the evening to arrive the two mansions behind a fortified wall and gate with security guards. Were we at the right place?!? So, the guard motioned us in, and we were welcomed into a sitting room by a nice-looking Russian gentleman who offered us drinks. Although vodka was the drink of the night, I asked for water because we had a long two-hour drive ahead of us before resting in Sacramento, and they don’t call spirits spirits for no reason. Once we settled comfortably in the drawing room, a man introduced himself as Andrei Kozlenok, looked me straight in the face, and said in an heavily accented undertone commanding voice, “The rest of the night you will drink only vodka,” with a laugh to lighten his aggressive delivery.
Everyone around me thought it was a joke and laughed. I responded, “Then I guess I will have to sip this water the rest of the night.” He toasted me at that comment, then began bragging about the Rembrandts and other expensive fine art gracing the walls like a museum. Near where I sat was a lit curio cabinet containing beautifully decorated eggs, which he said were real Faberge eggs worth a fortune. (later I found they were). Now, I’ve been around very wealthy people, and the ones I’ve met never bragged about their wealth, and when they do, my sensors are up, and I don’t trust them. Here, I just met this man, and he’s trying to force vodka on me and bragging about his wealth. It was off-putting; honestly, I wanted to leave then and go to Sacramento. But we were guests, and our Russian friend was there, excited to see us and bond further with Jonathan. So, after a few minutes in the drawing room, we were guided outside to the pool area where the festivities were happening. Most of the party was over by then, but what was left was lively as hell. And Jonathan was having fun. The swimming pool had two tiers with a waterfall flowing from the top to the bottom. It was enjoyable watching Jonathan dive from the top tier to the bottom tier and have fun with his friends. Much needed relaxation after a long week. I, on the other hand, sat at one of the tables with our assistant and watched. This wasn’t your typical barbecue because some of the finest caviar in the world was being served as if it were potato chips. I was encouraged to eat it, but I’m not a big fan of caviar, regardless of whether it’s $1000 an ounce. However, it was pushed on me like vodka. Our two dogs, Juneau and Kristi, were with us waiting in the van, and they needed a walk, so I walked around the mansion to the front to get them. Andre’s wife, a nice lady and personable host, wanted to meet them. The dogs were my excuse to leave the caviar, and I was hoping it was a good excuse to leave the party. My excuse went out the window, when she was so accommodating to our dogs needs. So when I went to fetch the dogs, security lights lit up all over the sides of the home, and out of the shadows, two men began following me to the van. One told me with a hefty accent that they were there to ensure I was safe. Safe from what? I thanked them as I cringed, and they watched me the entire way. The whole thing was pretty creepy.
My guess is they were ex KGB officers? So Juneau and Kirsti saved me from eating another bite of caviar. They lay under the table beside one of our assistants and my feet. Yes, I did the unthinkable. I slowly fed the caviar we didn’t want to touch to the dogs, like a kid getting rid of his vegetables at the evening dinner table. And they lapped it up under the table. All was fine, and we were enjoying the evening. I kept checking the time because it was getting late, and we had a drive ahead. No sooner had that thought crossed my mind than I heard a lot of commotion. And one of the people in our party who came with us passed out from drinking too much vodka. I thought this was the perfect opportunity to exit, but Andrei Kozlenok suggested the individual who passed out sleep it off downstairs on the sauna room bed. I thought to myself, how long will it take for him to wake up? But I didn’t say anything, and everyone returned to the house. We followed along, and to keep myself busy and awake because I was tired, I began helping them clean up. I think I counted something like 50 empty vodka bottles. And all the extra uneaten caviar was thrown in the trash. It was surreal, and I got the sense I was a character in a Russian Beverly Hillbillies show.
By this time, it was about 1 a.m. And our friend had not woken up. Let me tell you, I prodded him many times, and although he would wake up briefly, he would fall back to sleep. My only option was to rejoin the group and watch videos of some fantastic Russian performers, including my friend who starred in the Teatro Zanzinni show. But it did not remove my anxiety about wanting to leave, and our host sensed it, so he suggested we all spend the night together. And that the following day, we would wake up to Bloody Mary’s (yeah, right! Lol), and he would give us a tour of their diamond operation in San Francisco — a multi-level glass-shaped Diamond Mart at 999 Brannan Street in San Francisco’s South of Market business district. My guard, of course, had been up since meeting him, and the last thing I wanted to do was spend the night there. What I thought was very odd was that he had two mansions, yet he only offered us sofas in a den where we could lay our heads for the night. So we finally could wake our friend up from his slumber, and the two of us managed to get him in our van. But not without resistance from our friend Andrei. But eventually, by about 4 a.m., our persistence won, and we finally left the barbecue we had intended to stay for only about an hour. All of us were exhausted, and the first thing we did was find a motel. We slept until the next afternoon before driving to Sacramento and Lake Tahoe. Sometimes, time moves so slowly when you want it to go fast. You have to wait for the sun. I want to be free, is all I could think about, enslaved in the mansion. And when Andrei discovered we were going to Tahoe, he offered his Tahoe estate, where The Godfather Part II was filmed for us to use. I couldn’t wait to say no. And later, I felt guilty because he did seem to want to be a good host. Intuition is my best friend, and I was happy to listen to it that evening. What if we all had drank too much vodka?
After reading the article three or four times on the plane and nudging Jonathan, showing him the few photos of Andrei, I wish I’d visited at his Diamond Mart and stayed in the Tahoe estate. The intrigue was fascinating, and I wanted to learn more. The Diamond scandal made headlines globally and was featured on the U.S. News and World Report cover with the Golden ADA ringleader Andrei Kozlenok in handcuffs. But that seems to be the conclusion, probably because it also involved San Francisco politicians, Hillary Clinton, Al Gore, and other prominent national figures.
But Andrei Kozlenok had established a cutting-edge diamond center named Golden ADA, where he cultivated connections with politicians and city officials. Photos capturing their moments with Vice President Al Gore and Hillary Clinton illustrated these ties. Furthermore, a helicopter gifted to the San Francisco police was utilized by Golden ADA to transport Siberian diamond shipments from the airport to its downtown facility. The unfolding of this story mirrors a real-life Gorky Park, featuring the FBI collaborating closely with principled Russian law enforcement officers. Later, following his arrest in 1998, Kozlenok explained to the Moscow Times that the purchases of a Faberge egg created for Tsar Nicholas II, a luxury yachts for more than $1.2 million, millions of dollars for three homes in Orinda and Lafayette, five Lake Tahoe properties, a helicopter for $1.7 million, a Rolls-Royce and two Aston Martins for more than $1 million and a Gulfstream jet for $20 million were needed to project a “solid financial image.” He said They were also to provide vacations for miners working in the difficult conditions of Russia’s Far North. And I guess for hosting expensive caviar barbecues for magical guests like ourselves and my Sammy’s (dogs)!
Quite the adventure indeed. Also a fun factoid: I grew up in SF around the same time you lived there. We are about 2 years apart in age. I lived in Mission District. 😎
Whoah!!!! What an adventure! Or misadventure? I loved you keeping your wits during the whole thing and also feeding your dogs the caviar 😂. I bet they loved it. Thank you for telling this tale, it was such an enjoyable read!