Days of extravagance come to an end in a London prison cell,
reports Kevin Sullivan.
SOME people knew him as Kevin. He told others he was Richard.
Everyone could see he had money to burn, and
most people thought he was a British spy.
But nobody in Washington really knew Kevin
Richard Halligen, not even the woman he
pretended to marry.
Halligen now sits in a London prison, fighting extradition to the
US where he faces felony fraud charges
stemming from his days of extravagant living
in Washington high society.
For about three years, until 2008, Halligen spent hundreds of
thousands of dollars living it up. He stayed
in a Willard Hotel suite for months and
drank the days away at pricey restaurants.
He travelled everywhere in a
chauffeur-driven car and bought a mansion in
Virginia.
Smart, charming and favouring black turtlenecks and sunglasses,
Halligen told everyone that he was a spy, or
a former spy, or connected to spies.
Virtually all of it, it turns out, was
fabricated or exaggerated but with amazing
ease and a perfect British accent, the
diminutive Halligen schmoozed his way into
Washington's intelligence elite - Pentagon
officials, influential lawyers and
lobbyists, former CIA operatives.
And he took their money.
He set up shop as a corporate security consultant, offering his
dubious ''operational experience'' in
intelligence for customers working in
dangerous places. But he didn't set off any
alarm bells until he started taking money
but not doing the work he promised.
The US government obtained an indictment against him in 2009 for
milking a client out of $2.1 million and he
has been ordered to pay $6.5 million to
former partners who claim he fleeced them.
Through his London lawyer, he declined to
comment as he fights extradition.
Those who knew Halligen described how he created a trail of
creditors and left Washington and London
insiders wondering how one charming and
audacious hustler managed to seduce them
all.
''I was duped,'' said John Holmes, a retired British army general
who was head of the British military's
special forces. He met Halligen in 2002,
when Halligen took an IT job at a private
security consulting firm where Holmes was
working.
He said he helped Halligen start his own firm, Red Defence
International, and backed Halligen's
application to join the Special Forces Club
in London, an exclusive private club for
people with links to British intelligence.
That membership helped Halligen as he set his sights on an
ultra-lucrative security consultant mecca:
Washington.
In 2006, Halligen still had money coming in from Red Defence as
well as his growing Washington business.
Money was pouring into his corporate
account, and he was spending it just as
fast.
Amid it all, Halligen still found time for romance.
Friends said he met Maria Dybczak, a lawyer and started courting
her. They married in 2007 but Halligen was
already married, so he hired an actor to
preside over the ceremony as a priest. He
told his fiancee that because he worked
undercover, he could not sign any public
documents - including a marriage licence.
Halligen also received a boost from the case of Madeleine McCann,
the three-year-old British girl who
disappeared in Portugal.
In early 2008, the Find Madeleine Fund hired his US business,
Oakley International, on a six-month
million-dollar contract. His bank accounts
ballooned with regular deposits of $200,000
or more over the next few months. But
Clarence Mitchell, a spokesman for the fund,
said officials soon began questioning
whether his work was worth the money and
terminated his contract.
Investigators started pursuing Halligen over fraud allegations and
in November 2009 he was jailed after being
arrested at a luxury Oxford hotel where he
was staying under an alias.
WASHINGTON POST |