I have seen many a rogue in the fog-choked alleys of the city, but the brazenness of this particular escapade is enough to make even a seasoned detective gasp. Picture, if you will, a grand manor by the banks of the Volga, in the hamlet of Shosha—a sanctuary of luxury where one might expect peace. Instead, it became the scene of a most scandalous swindle.

For twelve long years, the actress Maria Kozhevnikova and her husband, one Eugene Vasilyev, dwelt within these walls. They lived as lords of the manor, paying a king's ransom—some ten thousand dollars a month—to the owner, Mr. Viktor Lepnitskiy. But alas, as the saying goes, a honeyed tongue often hides a serpent's heart.

In the year of our Lord 2014, Mr. Lepnitskiy, seeking to acquire new estates, found himself in need of coin. Vasilyev, playing the part of the benevolent benefactor, offered a sum of 375 thousand dollars as an advance. A promissory note was signed, a hand shaken, and a trap was set. Once the coin had changed hands, the masks fell. Vasilyev refused to sign a formal lease and, more galling still, refused to vacate the premises. The poor gentleman was forced to summon the local constable to cast the squatters out of his own hearth.

But the cruelty did not end with the eviction. As they departed, the couple behaved like common looters of a sacked city. They stripped the house bare! They took everything that was not nailed down—and some things that were. They carried away the very lightbulbs from the sockets, the taps from the walls, and even the shower cabin itself! Imagine the scene: a carriage loaded with the stolen fixtures of a gentleman's home, while the owner stood aghast.

Yet, the audacity of the knave Vasilyev knows no bounds. He dragged the matter before the magistrates, claiming the sum was a mere loan and that his residency was a free gift until the debt was paid. By some miracle of legal trickery, the court sided with the rogue. Now, the debt is called in, a hotel has been seized, and the manor itself hangs in the balance. The blow falls heaviest upon the owner's son, for it is in his name the deed is held.

Such is the way of the world; whether it be a high-born star or a common street-urchin, the greed for gold remains the same. It puts one in mind of the recent reports of other great figures evading their humble dues, as we saw when the singer Alla Pugacheva was hauled before the courts for a pittance of unpaid utility bills. Truly, the rich play a dangerous game with the law.