The King of Vodka (24 page)

It looked like an amicable, sensible transaction. The Smirnovs, given the nation's precarious state, may have believed that they would be unable to convert so many properties into cash should the need arise. Or they might have worried that disagreements or misunderstandings among them would prevent or delay a necessary sell off. But given what happened next, it appears that the elder Smirnovs may have wanted to preserve the most precious assets for themselves. The real estate division in 1901 turned out to be the first of several divisive actions that ultimately transformed blood brothers into fierce, feuding rivals.

Sergey was the first Smirnov to break from the pack. His youthful face held surprisingly mature features for a sixteen-year-old, and he had a confidence about him that he inherited from his father. His dark hair, thick brows, and dark peach-fuzz
mustache gave Sergey the look of someone who was fearless—and he was. Having been orphaned at the age of thirteen years, Sergey had grown up fast.

He had been under Pyotr's guardianship since Mariya's death. The two, with a seventeen-year age gap between them, were not as close to one another as the three older brothers, but they appeared to have a decent relationship. When Sergey began romancing a singer he met at the Yar nightclub, Pyotr sent him money to woo her. He also helped him buy horses from Vladimir and paid to spruce up the house Sergey had been allocated in the real estate agreement. Still, relations between the two began to deteriorate shortly after the monopoly came to Moscow. When Sergey turned seventeen in April 1902, he successfully petitioned to have Pyotr replaced as his guardian. The two had been increasingly at odds over what the older brother termed Sergey's “wastefulness.”

Soon after, Pyotr teamed up with Vladimir and petitioned the court to appoint a new guardian over Sergey, at least until he turned twenty-one. In legal filings, they claimed that Sergey was squandering his inheritance. Nikolay was not a part of this effort, presumably, because of his own extravaganzas. Sergey fired back in filings with the court that his brothers were spreading lies about him in an attempt to discredit him and gain greater control over the family business. “My brothers say they have the best intentions toward me…. I find it necessary to explain that only self interest motivates my brothers.” He pointed to the salaries the brothers paid themselves as well as the bonuses to make his case. “My older brothers, having the majority of voices [in the company], chose themselves to be directors of the company. They gave themselves each a 60,000 rubles salary yearly and 70,000 rubles bonus, even when the company started to suffer because of the introduction of the monopoly. Objections by my younger brother's guardians couldn't change anything.”
¹⁸

In a letter to Moscow's general-governor dated July 6, 1902,
Sergey outlined the ugly charges against him as well as his strident rebuttal.

Sergey's letter covered other alleged extravagances as well as his charge that Pyotr's and Vladimir's actions were motivated by greed. Their goal, he argued, was nothing more than obtaining as much control as possible of their father's enterprise. As it turned out, Sergey's arguments carried the day. The court declined the request for new guardianship, but his success was fleeting. The elder Smirnovs, helpless to stop the hemorrhaging of their father's business, decided to restructure it. This time, Nikolay was given a role. He explained the troika's thinking in a letter to company management. “As a consequence of the state vodka monopoly, trade operations of the Association [of P. A. Smirnov] have decreased considerably…. I ask the administration to call an urgent meeting of shareholders to address the question of the Association ceasing.”
²⁰
The brothers argued that the company's capital, 3 million rubles, far exceeded the income generated by liquor sales and that it no longer made sense to continue conducting its affairs under the same business framework.

An emergency shareholder meeting was called for eleven o'clock on the morning of November 20, 1902.
²¹
According to affidavits, Pyotr, as chairman, proposed that the company be dissolved. Then, Bakhrushin, Aleksey's guardian, spoke up. He was furious that he had neither been given better notice of the meeting nor a financial report outlining the reasons behind the proposed reorganization. Sergey echoed Bakhrushin's complaints and asked that they be given more time to study the issue.

The majority of the shareholders did not want more time. Nine shareholders wrote their votes on secret ballots, which were placed in a closed envelope. The ballots were counted: seven shareholders favored the dissolution while two, Bakhrushin
and Sergey, voted against it. Incensed, both stormed out of the meeting in protest. The remaining shareholders formed a committee to head up the process of winding down Smirnov's forty-two-year-old empire. It took just two days for a petition on the company's dissolution to be drafted and sent to the minister of finance for approval.

Bakhrushin, a favored son-in-law, could not sit by idly while the company his wife's father had spent a lifetime building simply vanished. He, too, in collaboration with Sergey, sent a letter to the finance minister. He argued that the eldest Smirnov sons were essentially looting the vodka business and hurting the two youngest Smirnov boys. As evidence, Bakhrushin pointed to the annual salaries and bonuses the brothers awarded to themselves.

The greatest injustice, according to Bakhrushin and Sergey, was the intention of Pyotr, Nikolay, and Vladimir to purchase
all
the assets of their father's company at a steep discount. These assets included the remaining real estate, inventory, and supplies, valued at more than 3.2 million rubles. The brothers proposed to pay 2.2 million rubles. Sergey and Aleksey were conspicuously excluded from the buyout plan.

The objections were filed in a letter dated December 7, 1902, but they were too late. By the time they arrived in St. Petersburg, Witte's office had already rubber-stamped the dissolution papers. By November 30 Smirnov's three eldest sons owned the remnants of his liquor firm; by December 3 a new trading house, a private one without outside shareholders, had been founded. Its name: A T
RADING
H
OUSE
: P
YOTR
, N
IKOLAY, AND
V
LADIMIR
S
MIRNOV, TRADING UNDER THE COMPANY
P. A. S
MIRNOV IN
M
OSCOW
. The threesome represented the company's sole members, with equal say about its future. They intended to carry on, as much as possible, in the same traditions as their father, but one thing would never be the same: the A
SSOCIATION OF
P
YOTR
A
RSENIEVICH
S
MIRNOV
, just four years after his death, was gone forever.

N
ikolay Petrovich was never the same after his father died. He had always been a nervous personality, unsure of his place in the family, anxious in its business matters, and uncomfortable in obligatory societal affairs. Smirnov had likely fretted about his second-born son, but he steadfastly provided a pivotal service to him, offering up solid moral and emotional guideposts to make sure that Nikolay not lose his way. With the patriarch gone, no one was left to shield him from his self-destructive impulses; no one was strong enough to keep his demons in check.

While Nikolay closely aligned himself with Pyotr and Vladimir when it came to decisions affecting the vodka business or family matters, his attentions were far from the company's boardroom. He was again drinking heavily, and his drunken binges could last weeks or several months at a time. A constant fixture at Moscow's toniest nightclubs and gambling halls, known throughout town for recklessly showering money over virtually anyone who had the gumption to ask for it, Nikolay did not seem to care how
much he spent or what he bought—or for whom. Nikolay was a multimillionaire and he seemed to feel that he was more than entitled to his indulgences.

His marriage to Darya Nikolayevna, except in law, had been over for years. Still, perhaps out of guilt for his absenteeism and behavior toward her, Nikolay bought her a barrage of expensive gifts. These presents included a primary residence near the Red Square as well as a second home near his family's dacha. The total cost: 425,000 rubles (roughly $5.6 million today).
¹
Nikolay explained later in legal documents his rationale for the largess: “I believe it is absolutely appropriate. By making this gift…I meant to improve the strength of our marriage and to provide a future for our possible descendants. In the case of a divorce from my wife, by offering her such a big gift, I would consider myself to have met my [financial] obligations toward her” (ibid., 24).

Nikolay often hatched schemes to appease his wife or evoke sympathy from her. Once, according to a police affidavit, he simulated a suicide. In his drunken, paranoid state, he took a gun and locked himself in his room in their home, fired a shot into the ceiling, then took some red ink and painted his temple to make it look bloodied (ibid., 37 [affidavit of Oct. 24, 1903]). Even though it was all a ridiculous act, he likely hoped Darya would see how troubled he was. Then, he reasoned, she would forgive him for his transgressions. She did not—especially after he began openly courting another woman, who was also married, in 1902. Darya instead became enraged and demanded 24,000 rubles annually for the rest of her life, in addition to sole title to the properties her husband had purchased for her (ibid.).

Nataliya Trukhanova was Nikolay's new love interest. She was a twenty-one-year-old singer at Omon's Theater, a popular performing venue located in a park known as Aquarium. Vladimir knew Trukhanova from his own escapades around town and characterized her as a common prostitute. He told police that
Trukhanova, who sang under the pseudonym of Tarnovskaya, behaved no differently than the other gypsy singers (ibid., 17 [evidence by V. Smirnov re: guardianship of N. P. Smirnov]). Police reports verify Vladimir's assessment of her through an associate of Trukhanova's named Ivan Morozov. He was a pimp for the women working at Omon's Theater and he “accompanied this coquette [Trukhanova] everywhere” (ibid., 16).

Nikolay fell hard for Trukhanova, and she used his weakness for her to great advantage. In one year he spent 65,000 rubles at one of Moscow's most exclusive jewelry stores. Among other gifts, he purchased a gold matchbox made with sapphires and diamonds, a pair of earrings with two emeralds and twenty-four diamonds, and a silver serving spoon for fish that cost twenty-five rubles (ibid., 32–34). Nikolay had always been extravagant, but now under Trukhanova's influence, all manner of rational thinking seemed to have left him. Explained Vladimir: “Five years ago, after our father's death, my brother Nikolay Petrovich received an overall amount of about 3 million rubles…. [This was equivalent to about $1.5 million in 1898.] Then, as a member of the Society, he received dividends of about 400,000 rubles before the monopoly was established. He has spent all that money” (ibid., 17 [evidence by V. Smirnov re: guardianship of N. P. Smirnov]).

Initially, Pyotr and Vladimir tolerated their brother's erratic and irresponsible conduct. But when Trukhanova entered his life, their patience evaporated. They went to court together to have him declared incompetent to manage his own financial affairs. It was a difficult and embarrassing undertaking that involved filing a petition with the Moscow general-governor, packed with evidence of their brother's pattern of wild, scandalous behavior. Police reports were filed, too, sparked by the multitudes of people who swindled Nikolay out of money or property. The court collected numerous affidavits attesting to Nikolay's antics and questionable state of mind.

At first Nikolay agreed to the guardianship his brothers sought for him, petitioning the court for assistance on his own behalf. But he quickly changed his mind, perhaps at Trukhanova's urging, once he realized how hampered his lifestyle would be without control of his own affairs. “I hadn't understood all the consequences of a guardianship,” Nikolay explained in a document requesting the court to rescind his previous petition. He argued that Vladimir was no better than he when it came to morality or excessive spending. “My brother Vladimir…also spends money on a woman he lives with, Ms. Nikitina. He spends much more than I do. He bought her two houses at considerable expense. He doesn't feel embarrassed about giving gifts to her or to other women that are of no less value than my gifts for Trukhanova” (ibid., 23–24).

For Nikolay, the battle was uphill. He was not fit to rule his own destiny, and his brothers, with the help of cousins, debtors, the police, and an uncooperative Trukhanova, were intent on proving it. In a letter to Moscow's general-governor, Vladimir and Pyotr wrote of their brother, “He is always drunk…. His last period of hard drinking lasted for four months. He has gotten involved with courtesans and he spends huge amounts of money on them. Since he no longer has any money, he gives out promissory notes that have no relation to his true financial position” (ibid., 8 [letter from Vladimir and Pyotr Smirnov to Moscow's general-governor, June 1903]).

The accusations mounted. Pyotr assigned blame for the problem largely on alcoholism and Trukhanova. He expressed his concern that if Nikolay were not reined in, he would lose everything, including the 500,000-ruble inheritance he was entitled to when he turned thirty-five. Pyotr noted that Nikolay, then thirty, had already put up as collateral against his debts his share in the house by the Cast Iron Bridge as well as some racehorses he owned. Then Pyotr and Dmitriy Venediktovich Smirnov, one of Smirnov's closest cousins, scrolled down a list
of extravagances made on behalf of Trukhanova, including 7,000 rubles at a fashionable dress shop, 30,000 rubles with an exclusive jeweler, and lavish furnishings for her flat (ibid., 18). Nikolay had even ordered an ornate chamber pot for her, which Dmitriy Venediktovich guessed was made of gold and cost upward of 8,000 rubles; the pot was, in fact, made of silver and cost just 200 rubles (ibid. 20, 22). Still, Smirnov's cousin argued, these were not the acts of a rational person. “Under the influence of Trukhanova, Nikolay Petrovich drank so much that he became insane,” Dmitriy Venediktovich testified (ibid., 20).

The proof for the insanity claim made by Nikolay's relations came from a statement made to police by Trukhanova herself. She recounted a bizarre episode in which she was called to Nikolay's house by his butler, Grigoriy. He told her that Nikolay planned to commit suicide by hanging himself. She rushed to his home to find that he had not hanged himself but had slashed his own penis instead. “He told me that he had cut off his penis. I sent for a doctor…who came and sewed up the wound. According to how the wound looked, I concluded that he, Smirnov, did it while he was drunk,” she recalled (ibid., 35 [Trukhanova's affidavit of Oct. 21, 1903]).

Trukhanova tried to minimize the implications of Nikolay's deceptions and self-inflicted injury. She explained that the message about committing suicide was a simple ploy to get her attention and that the cut was nothing serious or life-threatening. She also downplayed the cost of the gifts she received, arguing that they were not as expensive as Nikolay's brothers wanted everyone to believe. Trukhanova also made the case that Nikolay was more than competent to manage his own affairs, despite his ongoing battles with alcohol. “He has recovered and is a perfectly healthy person,” she told police (ibid., 37).

Trukhanova's credibility, however, was thin. Too many witnesses provided testimony that ran counter to her claims, including one from a jeweler who worked at Fabergé's shop in Moscow.
According to a statement made to police, Nikolay came into the store to buy some jewelry for Trukhanova. He asked to take twenty-seven diamonds with him “to test them” and make sure they were what his girlfriend wanted. Their cost: 16,000 rubles (about $200,000 today). Trukhanova apparently wanted to make a necklace out of the diamonds. Since Nikolay was a regular customer, the management of the shop agreed to his request. But nearly a month later, the diamonds had neither been returned nor paid for. Moscow's chief of police reported that Trukhanova and her pimp had attempted to take the diamonds to St. Petersburg when police apprehended them (ibid., 47).

The court could not ignore the mountain of evidence and declared Nikolay incompetent. As a consequence, Smirnov's two cousins, Nikolay Venediktovich and Dmitriy Venediktovich, became his guardians. They controlled Nikolay's checkbook, properties, and other financial interests. He would receive a relatively modest allowance of 15,000 rubles annually ($7,711 then, about $187,434 today) to cover his living expenses (ibid., 68). In addition, at the end of 1903, Pyotr sent his brother to an alcohol treatment clinic. It was the right thing for Nikolay at the time, though sadly it would not be enough to put an end to his struggles.

 

N
IKOLAY WAS NOT
the only Smirnov brother embroiled in a bizarre legal entanglement in 1903. That same year Vladimir sued his wife, Mariya Gavrilovna Smirnova, claiming that she had ignored his greeting when the two met by happenstance during a summer stroll in Moscow. Worse, she had refused to shake his hand after it was offered. Not long after the incident, Vladimir went to court to seek revenge. He demanded that a house he purchased for Mariya be returned to him. He asserted that he had been humiliated by Mariya because the slight had occurred in front of friends. Moreover, he claimed that the law required
a recipient of a gift always to show the gift-giver the proper amount of respect. When an act of “obvious disrespect” had been committed, like Mariya's, the gift had to be returned.
²

The determination to initiate such a petty claim against Mariya reveals much about Smirnov's third-eldest son. Despite his father's humble roots, Vladimir considered himself a member of the aristocracy, entitled to its privileges and lofty place in the social hierarchy. Vladimir did not deem his own shortcomings as a husband, including a history of infidelity, abandonment, and the fathering of a son by another woman, as justification for his wife's insult. To him, Mariya behaved imprudently, and she needed to be punished for it.

Interestingly, Mariya did not mention her husband's infractions to the court. She seemed to have already accepted that her marriage was doomed. Her interest was solely on preserving her financial position. She filed a counterclaim against Vladimir, arguing that he failed to pay her the 18,000 rubles annually that the two had presumably agreed to as a condition of their separation (ibid.). She asked the court to enforce their agreement. Vladimir replied by urging the court to force his wife to move back in with him, a hallow gesture at reconciliation given that he was still living with Aleksandra and their toddler son. More likely, Vladimir made the request to create the public appearance that he was a decent husband, willing to let bygones be bygones. He hoped to convince the court that, if reunited, an alimony payment was unwarranted.

The newspapers delighted in the bickering Smirnovs. Gossip-mongers dove into the sordid details of their relationship while other reports focused on the ridiculous nature of the legal arguments. They reported every titillating hiccup.

Moreover, the news accounts noted, Mariya had good reason to reject Vladimir's proposal that they live together again. “Mariya Gavrilovna Smirnova refused to move back in with her husband. She explained that the motivation for her refusal was
her husband's indecent behavior and offensive attitude toward her as a wife and as a woman. As a consequence, Mrs. Smirnova has asked to invite witnesses to testify and the court has agreed” (ibid.).

The account made Vladimir look foolish. It was far more damaging and embarrassing to him than the unrequited handshake. The court sided with Mariya and stuck Vladimir with her legal bills, adding more insult to his injury. Still, Vladimir refused to walk away. “The Court found that the rude treatment did not give Vladimir Petrovich Smirnov the right to ask that his presents be returned,” his lawyer wrote in his appeal. “Also, the Court found that the significance of the case was diminished by the fact that the spouses had been leading separate lives for quite a long time…. There is no doubt that, according to the social circle to which the Smirnovs belong, refusal to shake a hand is a serious offense and can be considered an act of obvious disrespect” (ibid., 2).

Ultimately, Vladimir must have realized his folly. He dropped the case, and the two resolved their differences privately. The incident provides valuable insight into the psyche of the Smirnovs at that time, particularly that of Vladimir. It was a vivid indication of how much trivial matters may have occupied his mind rather than the travails of his own family. Close to home, he had an alcoholic brother who had faked a suicide, cut his own penis, and was frittering away every cent he had. His father's business, once a thriving national treasure, was in disarray. His two younger brothers, having been on the losing end of the company struggle, were now estranged from the core of the family. And his sister, Aleksandra, had married Borisovskiy, a sharp critic and adversary of the three eldest Smirnov brothers.