My corpse managed to keep talking for twenty
years. That’s the time it took between the
Soviet KGB dosing my champagne with a
near-fatal volume of a drug called SP-117, in
order to get the truth out of me; and a
Russian oligarch sending two gunmen to
fire their pistols into me, to stop the truth
getting out..
With hindsight, those who weren’t watching
when Vladimir Putin was small insist he
was bigger than he was, but good at keeping secrets.
Big or small physically or politically, they have still been
unable to fathom Putin’s character, or explain why,
after so many years in power, Putin remains as characterless as when he started.
I was watching from the beginning; the KGB elixir
allowed me to see through the secrets to
the truth of the matter.
This was that Putin has remained the nondescript I had first met,
but that the potency attributed to him now was picked up
from a group of men on whom he depended for his rise,
and on whom he still depends for his power.
These were, these are the
Russian oligarchs
whose stories I have been investigating
and reporting every day.
By penetrating their secrets, I measure how Putin rules Russia;
better to say, how Russia is ruled, and with what effect.






















