I was stunned. I had never heard anyone in government speak in such an emotional and human way. «Kyle, I don’t know what to say. It’s been the worst thing for me too. The only way I can get up in the morning is to go after the guys who did this to Sergei».
«I know, and I’m going to help you».
I took a deep breath. This Kyle was completely unlike anyone I had ever met in Washington.
I wanted to tell him about what had happened at the State Department, but before I could, Kyle launched into a one-sided brainstorming session. «Bill, I want to make a list of every person involved in Sergei’s false arrest, torture, and death. Not just Kuznetsov and Karpov and the other thugs at the Interior Ministry, but the doctors who ignored Sergei’s pleas, the judges who rubber-stamped his detention, the tax officials who stole Russian money. Everyone who’s directly culpable in Sergei’s death».
«That’s easy, Kyle. We have that information and the documents to back it up. But what would you do with it?»
«I’ll tell you what I’d do. I’d organize a congressional fact-finding trip to Moscow and have the US embassy call each person on that list requesting a meeting to discuss the Magnitsky case. I’m not sure many would agree, but it would shock the Russian authorities to no end that the United States is paying such close attention to Magnitsky’s death».
«I like that idea, but I could see a lot of reasons why it wouldn’t get off the ground. However, we could use the list in a different way».
«I’m listening».
I told him about Jonathan Winer, Proclamation 7750, and the meeting with Scott at the State Department.
As I spoke, Kyle wrote everything down. «That is a great idea». He tapped the point of his pen on his notepad. «How did the person at the Department react?»
«Not well. As soon as I said ‘Seventy-seven Fifty,’ he deflected and obfuscated and shooed me out of his office».
«I’ll tell you what. I’m going to talk to Senator Cardin and ask him to send a letter to Secretary Clinton requesting her to invoke Seventy-seven Fifty». Kyle paused and looked me straight in the eye. «Let’s see if they treat a United States senator the same way».
33. Russell 241
On returning to London I gathered the team to tell them about what had happened in Washington. I knew they needed good news. Everything we’d done inside Russia had gone nowhere. I didn’t try to cheer them up as they took their seats. Instead I just told them the entire Washington story, ending with the idea of visa sanctions and Senator Cardin’s letter to Hillary Clinton.
«Bill, you realize the significance of this, don’t you?» Ivan asked when I was done. «If this happens, it means that we’ll have the US government on our side!»
«I know, Ivan. I know».
This was a huge morale boost, especially to the Russians on the team. As anyone who has read Chekhov, Gogol, or Dostoyevsky will tell you, and as Sergei himself once reminded us, Russian stories don’t have happy endings. Russians are familiar with hardship, suffering, and despair — not with success and certainly not with justice. Not surprisingly, this has engendered in many Russians a deep-seated fatalism that stipulates that the world is bad, it will always be bad, and any attempt to change things is doomed.
But now a young American named Kyle Parker was challenging this fatalism.
Unfortunately, a week passed, then two, and finally three without so much as a peep from Kyle. Every day I could see Ivan, Vadim, and Vladimir reverting to fatalistic form, and by the third week even I was being infected with this Russian gloom. I resisted the urge to pick up the phone for fear of scaring Kyle off. As I got further and further from my meeting with Kyle, I grew more and more uncertain that I’d read him correctly.
Finally, in late March 2010, I couldn’t take it any longer. I dialed Kyle’s number and, as if he were hanging over the phone, he answered on the first ring.
«Hello?» he said cheerfully.
«Hi, Kyle. It’s Bill Browder. I’m sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you had any idea when Senator Cardin’s letter might go out? It would make a huge difference for the campaign…. In fact, I think it would completely change it».
«I’m sorry, but things don’t always work on a schedule over here. But don’t worry, Bill, just be patient. I’m serious about this».
«All right, I’ll try», I said, barely put at ease. «But if there’s anything — anything — I can do to help, then please let me know».
«I will».
As much as I believed that Kyle was genuinely shocked by Sergei’s death, I thought this talk of being patient was a way of letting me down slowly. I was sure that lots of people in Washington didn’t want sanctions and that in the end there would be no Cardin letter.
A few weeks later on a Friday, in one of my few moments of doing something unrelated to the campaign, I took Elena and David to the movies at Leicester Square. Perhaps fitting to my situation, it was a political thriller — The Ghost Writer, directed by Roman Polanski. As we sat in the dark watching previews and eating popcorn, my phone vibrated. I looked at the number. It was Kyle Parker.
I whispered to Elena that I would be back in a second and went out to the lobby.
«Hello?»
«Bill, I’ve got some good news for you. It’s ready. It’s going to Secretary Clinton on Monday morning».
«The letter? You’re doing it?»
«Yep. We’re just putting the finishing touches on it right now. I’ll send it over in an hour».
We hung up. I «watched» the movie but could barely keep track of what was going on. After the film ended, we rushed home and I ran to my computer and printed the letter addressed to Hillary Clinton. Clutching it in both hands, I read it several times over.
The language was beautiful, succinct, and compelling. Its concluding paragraph read:
I urge you to immediately cancel and permanently withdraw the US visa privileges of all those involved in this crime, along with their dependents and family members. Doing so will provide some measure of justice for the late Mr. Magnitsky and his surviving family and will send an important message to corrupt officials in Russia and elsewhere that the US is serious about combating foreign corruption and the harm it does.
I called Kyle immediately. «This is amazing. I can’t tell you how much this means to me and to everyone who knew Sergei…»
«I told you we were going to do it, Bill, and I meant it. It broke my heart when Sergei was killed. I want to make sure his sacrifice wasn’t in vain», Kyle said, his voice cracking slightly.
«What happens now?»
«The letter will go to Clinton on Monday. We’ll post it on the commission’s website as soon as we send it».
«That’s great. Let’s speak Monday. Have a great weekend».
It took me nearly two hours to fall asleep that night. Was Cardin really going to do this? Could these things be stopped at the last minute? And if it did happen — what would Clinton do? What would the Russians do?
Monday morning came. I got to the office early, sat at my desk, and opened up the Helsinki Commission website. There was nothing, but London was five hours ahead of Washington so it was reasonable to expect that the letter would be published later in the day.
I checked again at noon London time, but there was still nothing. As I paced through the office, I noticed that I wasn’t the only one compulsively checking the US Helsinki Commission website. Vadim, Ivan, and Vladimir all had the home page on their screens, but no matter how many times any of us pressed the refresh button, the same page kept coming up.