A brief update on the vory (thieves-in-law)--and how they turn up like a bad penny

Reader beware, we are back to mafia content, with this post inspired by a recent jaunt to London—as well as by private messages received since the “Georgian Vor/Thief-in-Law Detained in Poland” post.

But first… London. Last week I visited the UK for the first time since before the COVID years, and while I could probably write an entire travel blog on the matter (for yes, London has changed), the following struck me…

Or thankfully, he didn’t.

In other words, imagine the following: A beleaguered consulting detective, burned by a pack, a small travel suitcase and an ill-suit had journeyed by plane and train only to be somewhat stumped by the London metro map. Here said investigator narrowly avoided death by crowds who pushed and jostled, nay, let us say, dared near push him smack off the edge and into the abyss of the actual rail tracks on the northern line.

But (as such tales generally go) just in the nick of time, at the very last possible second, the long-awaited coach came rushing in to avert the final moment of truth, with the door opening to the tune of “mind the (very) gap” that a fair lot of fellow commuters were desperately trying to avoid.

But here is where the story gets interesting: it was at this very moment that a rather diminutive—let’s say “compact”—fellow traveller cut a path almost under the arm of Yours Truly. Half irritated, half taking advantage of the man’s determination to shove aside any and all who dared black his path, I stuck right to his tail to find  a free seat—and, yes, in the end… here we sat at the tail-end of the carriage with the mystery traveller settled in before me.

Which is when I noticed the tattoos.

There are tattoos, and there are fads, and there are copies and then there are prison tattoos. Then there are Russian prison tattoos and then there are epaulets.

I glanced up and the stranger looked directly into my eye. He was probably in his forties. His head was shaven to the skin. He wore plain grey pants and an olive green t-shirt of the type worn by house painters… or Russian cons who just don’t give a damn. His jacket was not of European make, and more tattoos crept out of his colour onto his neck.

Those of you who have followed The Corners—and moreover, those who once followed its predecessor, The CEE Cheat Sheet & Crime Report—will know that I’ve followed the vory-v-zakone/thieves-in-law for years, with the primarily highlights of their activity having reached one of many peaks in the 2016-2022 period. I’ve written on their origins, their most infamous crowned thieves, their history post World War II and yes, their tattoos.

In short, if this was not the real deal, he was a helluva an imposter.

I glanced down at the man’s fists yet again. No, those were not salon tats. Those were real prison tats, real epaulettes with eight points, real ring tattoos.

I glanced back up at a man I assumed to be a project of the Russian penal system. He stared straight back, recognizing that he himself had been recognized, but not too bothered about it.

So what to do?

To be honest, I did not know and still do not know what eight-point epaulettes on the back of the hands truly mean. Shoulders would/could mean a true crowned thief. Knees, a head-case for the prison system. But the fists? No idea, and the combination of smudged/old ring tattoos on his fingers and my poor eyesight meant that I could decipher nothing there either.

So I did what a detective/former journo does and—after a brief nod and tip of an imaginary hat to show respect—I raised my phone and pointed (discreetly) to his fists to ask (in silence) for a photo.

In return I received a raised eyebrow and irritated half-nod, half-shake of the head, which I’m still pretty sure meant: “F— no.”

No worries then. I simply pocketed the phone and waited patiently for my stop. The man with the vory tattoos pulled out a cell phone of his own, dialled a number and then resumed his focus—on Your Truly—while speaking to some unseen buddy in Russian.

Then my stop. And that was it. Adios amigo. No idea how you got into the UK, but good luck to you…

I guess.

But it did make me wonder about borders, transnational crime, vory, Brexit, all of it. For my own journey began with the headache of registering via telephone on the ETA system, wondering if I should have received something I could show (despite an email that said this was not the case—that it would be registered to my passport) and then being all but astounded by the automatic border control booth that simply meant a scan, second scan of my face and an open gate.

In short, no questions asked, none answered.

Not that I had never seen such machines, but hey, this was the UK. Brexit did happen, apparently at least partly on the basis of unfettered immigration.

And the last time I’d come through (albeit in 2019, I think), I had been grilled by a border guard and forced to dig out my hotel reservation and to even open up my laptop for reasons I still do not understand. And this was after waiting in quite a long line, which meant that the sum of all checks had made me late for a morning meeting in downtown London.

So yeah, the automatic scans were welcome, but my mind still has to wonder…

I mean there is the war in Ukraine (and the UK has staunchly defended Ukrainian interests).

And this guy looked like a con.

And spoke Russian.

And had Russian epaulettes and ring tattoos.

I mean… if it looks like a thief-in-law, is tattooed like a thief-in-law…

Dang. It just might be a thief-in-law.

So how the hell did this guy get in?

Good question (if I may say so myself), but, to be honest, these guys always seem to get in. They have been getting in ever since they were forced out (partially anyway) of Russia, Armenia, Georgia and the ‘Stans circa 2018.

Which is rather obvious, as they do keep getting caught, up to no good in various jurisdictions abroad. Here are just a few recent examples:

• In early April, in cooperation with Ukrainian law enforcement, Revaz K. a.k.a. Magalo was arrested in Essen, Germany, according to Ukrainian police. Magalo had been behind money laundering and a string of burglaries and had also been placed on a Ukrainian sanction list.
• Armenian gangs—allegedly once with the baking of deported crowned thief-in-law Armen K. a.k.a. Pzo—have gone to war in LA’s San Fernando Valley, with police arresting 13 on charges of attempted murder and kidnapping in April, with the gangs involved in narcotics trafficking, protection rackets, insurance fraud. Since Pzo’s ouster, two lower ranking officers, Robert A. and Ara A. have gone to war trying to take his place. In May three Americans were also accused of murder and USD 83 mln in theft from Amazon.
• In mid-May there was the aforementioned arrest of crowned vor Igor P., along with a cache of weapons and a possible assassination support team, outside of Warsaw, Poland.
• According to the BBC, Iran’s Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps has in the past recruited vory as hitmen abroad (which is an echo of Israeli press reports from as early as 2022), but in fact in March this year a hitman was convicted of the attempted murder of an Iranian dissident in the US (the plot was foiled by the FBI). Mehdiyev, who lived in Yonkers before his arrest, was doubling as a Bronx pizza shop worker and a mob henchman for an Azerbaijan-based crew known as the Thieves-in-Law at the time of the botched hit, jurors heard. The hit was ordered by Rafat Amirov, 45, and Polad Omarov, 40, who alleged took a USD 500,000 payment, only a small part of which (USD 30,000) was used to hire Khalid Mehdiyev, who admitted during court proceedings to have worked for an Azeri vory clan.
• The ongoing Greek “Cigarette Lord” war, which has seen 24 mafia members murdered since 2017 is known to have Russian organized crime and possibly vory backing (and yet another gangland hit took place, complete with Kalashnikov machine gun fire, only last week, although the attack failed). Greek police now believe that the man behind the attempted hit is no other than the Georgian-born Entik, a crime boss who likely ordered the recent killing of cigarette lord and Greek mafia leader Giorgos Mochouris, who was shot to death in late April.

And vory are not the only villains making a joke out of international borders. This month the UK media noted an Albanian drug dealer, Stiljano Z., who was busted for cannabis production shortly after sneaking into Britain, deported (following early release) and only weeks later, Stiljano Z. was back to be busted again. Now he is more than four years in jail and possibly deportation yet again.

And then there are the villains that are not even on the radar right now. Such as the legendary vor king “Shakro” Zakhariy Kalashov, curiously released in Russia in 2024, with some—including jailed ex-Georgian President—claiming that his release was strictly to foment political chaos in an already politically chaotic country.

Or infamous (alleged) Sochi crime king—and once buddy to MPs and presidents—Ruben “Robson” Tatulyan, who once (allegedly) boasted multiple passports (including a diplomatic passport), but in recent years even became too much of a handful for the Russian FSB.

That’s not to say that “Robson” has turned inactive. He has long professed himself to be merely an elite businessman, and in the past he has appeared (sometimes in photos) far and wide. Back in 2019 the Russian government even threatened an OCCRP outlet for posting videos of Robson in curious meeting with his various fellows in the Czech Republic.

Oh how times change—although, admittedly, a bit of alleged fraud in Russia will do that.

The long and short of it is that nobody knows where these guys go. Not Robson. Not Shakro. Not my new buddy on the London tube.

But face it…

These guys are everywhere.

Preston Smith is a licensed investigator based in Gdansk, Poland. He can be reached at query@cddi.pl.

Photo credit of prisoners building the Moscow Volga canal: public domain, courtesy of wikimedia commons, author unknown.