In death as in life, Boris A. Berezovsky, the former tycoon who amassed billions of dollars and enormous political influence in post-Soviet Russia, remained true to Winston Churchill’s depiction of his land as the supreme enigma.
Mr. Berezovsky, 67, died alone in a locked bathroom at a mansion outside London and, according to the officer leading the investigation, Detective Chief Inspector Kevin Brown, there was “no evidence of any third-party involvement at this stage.â€
But the puzzles remained â€" particularly about whether, after almost 13 years in self-exile, tilting against Russia’s leaders, Mr. Berezovsky had finally succumbed to homesickness for his native Russia, where the authorities said he had written to President Vladimir V. Putin â€" for many years his arch-foe â€" to say he wished to come home.
Some of Mr. Berezovsky’s closest onetime advisers disputed that. Alex Goldfarb, who worked closely with Mr. Berezovsky and often spoke for him, said that, if he did indeed write such a letter, that could only have been a reflection of his troubled state since losing a $5 billion lawsuit months ago to Roman A. Abramovich, the billionaire owner of the Chelsea soccer club (among many other businesses, luxury yachts and upscale homes). If he wrote the letter at all, Mr. Goldfarb said in an interview, “it was the letter of a broken man.â€
The lawsuit was seen by many as a turning-point to decline for Mr. Berezovsky. But his penury in its wake as he struggled to pay debts and legal costs may have had broader consequences.
For many years, Mr. Berezovsky supported Marina Litvinenko, the widow of former K.G.B. agent Alexander Litvinenko, who was poisoned with radioactive polonium in November 2006. After losing the Abramovich lawsuit, he told her that he could no longer afford to maintain that support. As I try to explain in my latest column for the International Herald Tribune, that may turn out to be part of a bitter legacy for a man who once said he trusted British justice implicitly.
