We look not for people, but for what they have hidden.
The stories presented in the series “The Detective Investigates” are based on real cases investigated by Hayk Gabrielyan, Chairman of the Association of Private Detectives of Armenia, and Gabrielyan & Partners Detective Bureau, Armenia’s only officially registered private detective organisation. Every Friday, Aravot publishes the detective’s extraordinary findings.
For a detective, Sunday is a relative concept. It may seem peaceful and quiet, but your subconscious is always alert and your eyes are glued to your phone screen. At heart our profession is very close to that of a rescuer, a doctor or a police officer: a call at any second may mean that someone’s life, honour or a business built over years is on the brink of ruin and needs help. It was another Sunday, and our big family was enjoying a pleasant day in May.
The call came from a Swiss number. The caller spoke Western Armenian. He introduced himself as Simon, Director of Security and Risk at a well-known Swiss industrial company, and asked for a meeting, saying he had come to Armenia specifically to approach our company. Sunday evening turned into a working evening. Simon came to the office — a very interesting man in his sixties. Introductions, a little conversation, a few words exchanged, and the atmosphere became very warm, as if we had known each other for years.
He explained that his company manufactures construction materials made from plastic using advanced technology, in strong demand in more than 100 countries. A company operating in one of the Middle Eastern countries had signed a contract with them. At first they worked on prepayment; then deliveries under the contract picked up pace and, based on trust, they switched to payment after delivery. The latest shipment, worth about USD 2.5 million, had been delivered to the partner, after which all contact was lost. Every attempt to reach the partner by email or phone had failed. The Swiss company decided to hire a private investigation firm to look into the matter and find out what had happened. As the person in charge, Simon had researched all the firms in the region and recommended Gabrielyan & Partners Detective Bureau.
Once we had the data package, we began planning the investigation. For the next few days Simon became a daily resident of our office. First of all, I called my old and trusted partner Irfan, one of the best investigators in the Middle East. Irfan is one of those rare people of whom it is rightly said: “he has eyes everywhere.” I described the situation and passed on the data. A heavy, oppressive silence fell on the other end of the line. I could hear his uneasy breathing.
“Hayk, brother… this is no ordinary debt,” he replied hoarsely. “I’ve heard that name. Give me a few hours.”
Those few hours dragged on in the office like an eternity. When Irfan finally called back, his words sounded like a verdict:
“It’s a well-rehearsed scheme. They’ve already done the same to several companies. First trust, then theft. But in no case has anyone managed to prove their guilt.”
Simon listened in silence. The colour had left his face. This was no longer just a financial loss — they had become victims of a fraud network. He immediately called his team to find out which employees had vetted the organisation. Parallel investigations were now under way, in Switzerland and in the Middle East.
We plunged into the case, taking everything apart layer by layer. Endless bank flows, logistics, documents, hidden connections. Soon we found the first trail. The cargo had reached the port, but from there it had gone in a completely different direction, not to the address stated in the documents. Thanks to Irfan’s exceptional efforts, a few days later we had video footage. It clearly showed the valuable cargo being loaded onto trucks with a completely different logo and driven off to an unknown destination. Everything was disappearing into the unknown. The criminal chain had to be dismantled link by link. Irfan began moving actively on the ground while we coordinated from here. Bit by bit, we uncovered an entire network.
Using his contacts in local law enforcement, Irfan managed to obtain a list of mobile numbers, with subscriber details, served by the cell towers near the port during that period. Simon and I began combing through the list. There is a good detective saying: good prey meets a strong hunter. One of the numbers we picked out had active TikTok and Instagram accounts linked to the organisation we were looking for. By studying that number’s location history, Irfan discovered a warehouse hidden in an abandoned industrial zone outside the city. He and his people carried out discreet surveillance and spotted the very trucks that had carried the valuable cargo. Everything was clear. The Swiss company’s goods had to be there.
But this was only an interim victory. We started following the money. And money always leads to the real centre. Transfers from the actual account had gone to personal accounts and then to crypto wallets. By analysing this chain we identified the real beneficiaries — people who outwardly ran respectable, legal businesses but behind closed doors were running these dirty schemes.
Irfan had exceptional connections among the leadership of the local law enforcement system, and through them cooperation began with the local criminal police. We handed over all the facts we had established — and a storm broke out in the Middle East. Operations were carried out simultaneously at several locations. Arrests. Seizure of documents and computer equipment. Thorough checks of servers and immediate freezing of accounts. Irfan sent photos of the crates and goods, as well as an email address found on one of the computers. Information about the organisation had been sent to that address. Criminal overconfidence had done its work: the USD 2.5 million cargo had not yet been “sold off” on the black market.
When Simon saw the photos, he was silent for a long time. His breathing grew heavy.
“That’s our product…” he finally whispered, and in those words there was both boundless fatigue and relief.
A few weeks later we had tangible results. Most of the cargo was returned to its rightful owner. Part of the money was recovered too, and our modern-day “Ostap Benders” found a long-term home in prison, among hardened criminals.
When we presented the final picture, Simon sat in our office a completely different man.
“You not only found the scoundrels, you got everything back,” he said, lighting an expensive cigar and looking at me. “This was a matter of honour for me. Thank you, brother.”
“In our line of work, the only measure is the result, dear Simon,” I replied calmly.
It was his last evening in Yerevan, and we decided to celebrate both the farewell and the victory at one of Yerevan’s colourful restaurants. The city was ablaze with lights, the May evening fresh and peaceful. The table was laden with the best dishes and appetisers of Armenian cuisine, all accompanied by the finest Armenian red wine, with heartfelt toasts and generous Armenian-style words of praise for one another. Simon picked up his glass of wine, looked at me thoughtfully and said:
“Brother, I have worked in many countries in my life… but here I saw something I hadn’t felt in a long time. Personal responsibility beyond the contract. As if the loss were your own. Only we Armenians can do that — that is our strength.”
I nodded with a smile and emptied my glass.
The next morning we were having coffee at the airport café, waiting for his flight. It was here that the Swiss trail was finally exposed. Simon’s phone rang unexpectedly. It was his deputy in Switzerland, the head of security. There was a note of triumph in his voice. The internal investigation Simon had launched from Yerevan had borne fruit. The email address Irfan had found belonged to the very employee, Markus, who had been responsible for the due diligence on the Arab partner. The fraudsters had contacted Markus through that address and bought his “positive assessment” for a tidy sum. Markus — a man who had been one of the company’s cornerstones for years — had sold trust and quality for money.
“We found him, Simon,” the deputy said. “The Swiss police have just arrested him at his home.”
Simon’s face showed pain and a sense of victory at the same time.
“This isn’t the end yet,” he said, shaking my hand firmly as we parted. “Betrayal must be pulled out by the roots. But I’m flying to Zurich with a calm heart, because I know we have a reliable partner in the region and beyond. Expect news from Switzerland.”
“A detective never has endings,” I smiled. “When one case file closes, the next is already waiting its turn.”
He gave a broad smile and walked towards security. I left the airport building, got into my car and drove towards Yerevan, waking up at dawn. New stories are always born in the city’s fading shadows.
Hayk GABRIELYAN
Aravot daily
03.04.2026
Read at the source (in Armenian): The Swiss cargo