The Bulgarian Job

An immigrant wills his estate to a convicted killer from his homeland and dies the next day. Anything smell fishy?

• A woman who swears Gadzanov was home the night of July 18 must be mistaken.

• Detective Britt lied repeatedly in official reports and perjured himself in court testimony.

All of that is hard to swallow.

Daniel Lane blames police for the loss of his teaching job.
Laura Segall
Daniel Lane blames police for the loss of his teaching job.
GadzanovÂ’s former home on Vista Avenue is now owned by the Andreevs.
Laura Segall
GadzanovÂ’s former home on Vista Avenue is now owned by the Andreevs.

Ljuben Gadzanov was born in 1941 and came to the United States in the early '80s, when Bulgaria, a small southern European country, was still a Soviet-bloc nation. He worked in a low-paying job at Penn Racquet Sports in Phoenix. His English wasn't great. He liked to drink beer: An autopsy would later show he had a .10 blood-alcohol level when he died. He had two pets, a Siamese cat and a rottweiler. And he was ultra-frugal.

Gadzanov (Louie to his American friends) lived in a middle-class neighborhood popular with immigrants near Interstate 17 and Northern Avenue, renting out his home at 2615 West Vista Avenue to a woman named Lorraine Smith while he dwelled in a small cottage attached to the home.

The night before he died was hot and humid. It was July 18, 2005, and the 64-year-old Bulgarian immigrant had been having problems with his heart. The day had been frustrating: After a long drive in the heat to Sun City, his cardiologist's office told him he had arrived too late and rescheduled his appointment. One witness, Smith, puts him arriving home about 7 p.m.

Andrean Andreev, Rumen Kocankov, and Daniel Lane say he went back out.

Lane, 53, a self-described former golf course manager who works as a clerk at the Vitamin Shoppe near 20th Street and Camelback, recalls meeting Gadzanov for the first time that night, about 11 p.m.

Lane enjoys hanging out at Phoenix Greyhound Park with Kocankov, a friend whom Lane described as a professional gambler. That's where the pair say they were that Monday evening, having arrived about 7:30 p.m. They didn't spend every minute together, though, and Lane says he never saw Andreev come to the track to talk to Kocankov.

According to the three men, Andreev had dropped by the park to ask a favor for Gadzanov, who needed Kocankov's help with some paperwork. They say Gadzanov had been out to dinner in Scottsdale earlier with Andreev, and now Gadzanov wanted everyone to meet at Andreev's former apartment, a skanky little pad near Indian School Road and 16th Street.

Kocankov, 51, a fashion-conscious man who lives in a posh home in a north Phoenix golf community, says most of his income comes from the small convenience store he runs with his wife. But he has worked occasionally as a translator for the Los Angeles Asylum Office of the United States Citizen and Immigration Services and says he helps out fellow Bulgarians when he can. He says he was happy to help Gadzanov with the paperwork, though he had no idea at the time what the man was about to do.

The two Bulgarians and Lane pretty much agree on the rest of the story:

While Andreev went inside Phoenix Greyhound Park about 10 or 10:30 p.m., Gadzanov waited outside in Andreev's car. Ann Andreev was sleeping in the apartment when the men arrived in separate cars.

Gadzanov laid out four pages of scrawl on a table. The Bulgarians, including Gadzanov, conversed in their native tongue for a few moments. Then Kocankov explained to Lane that the pages were Gadzanov's will, and that Gadzanov wanted Lane to sign the document as a witness. Lane says Kocankov read aloud the four pages — but in English, so Lane could understand.

Lane says Gadzanov had already signed the will, so the men agreed he would have to sign it again in front of them. Lane printed everyone's name on the document, and the four took turns signing it.

After spending 20 minutes at Andreev's apartment, Kocankov drove Lane home.

Asked whether he thought it odd that Gadzanov gave his estate to Andreev and shut out all but one family member, Lane told New Times he recalls wondering aloud the same thing that night.

The only relative mentioned in the will is Gadzanov's nephew, Slavcho. Gadzanov supposedly leaves his small life insurance policy, worth an estimated $15,000, and $10,000 from his bank account to Slavcho Gadzanov. Andreev gets to keep everything else, and he's supposed to "care for" Slavcho.

Lane says when he mentioned Louie Gadzanov's family in front of the Bulgarians, Gadzanov "inferred he had a brother who was an alcoholic."

Lane says he can't remember exactly what Gadzanov said, but that was the crux of the discussion.

The only point on which there's any disagreement is: Kocankov says the will was three pages long.

Lorraine Smith, who rented Gadzanov's home, has no use for such details. She says the whole scene of Gadzanov out signing a will at Andreev's apartment on July 18, 2005, is pure fantasy.

After Louie Gadzanov got home from the doctor on July 18, Smith says, he padlocked the fence at the edge of the driveway and sat down on her porch for a while, talking in his hot-headed way about what had happened. She says he related having stopped by the home of a woman he knew for an hour or so after the missed appointment.

"Then, he said, 'I'm going to go in the back and lay down,'" Smith says. "He went to work the next day."

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Nick Matyas
Nick Matyas

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Fishy? Nah. Business as usual in the Tapeworm Economy. Estate grifting is lucrative. Rented-pens with law degrees pimp it every day to senile old men. They stoke the anger which accompanies dementia and turn demented fathers against rightful inheritors, so as to loot millions. They split ill gotten gains with leeches who arrive as death nears.

When responsible adult offspring catch on, these rented pen lawyers attack with Judicial Terrorism. Judicial Terrorism is setting up the innocent on false charges so as to take their liberty and wealth, and get profitably away. I experienced it. Have you? Google "Case No. 04-6085-CA". "Perjury Pat" Stoye of The Marco Island Police Department lied against me. Her lies were pimped by rented-pens George Allen Wilson, II, of Cheffy, "We Make Housecalls!" Passidomo, and Mark V. Silverio. They reportedly boasted of 'imprisoning Paul Zecchino for thirty years without inconvenience of Court scrutiny'.

Since when is 'court scrutiny' inconvenient - to anyone besides lying gutless thugs?

My mother was poisoned for refusing to divert The Living Trust of 1957 to Lifespan HMO,, Providence, Rhode Island. Millions in my name and hers were coveted by Lifespan. Girard R. Visconti, Esq., 'masterminded this chicanery' by which my 98 year old, long in dementia father was unduly influenced into handing our family wealth to a corrupt HMO. Wilson declared me deceased. He did likewise to my wife. My wife! Talk about a 'red flag'! They thought we wouldn't notice? Why do they think their threats will forestall inevitable legal consequences? Their so-called evidence against me was all lies. Facts exonerated me. Cops called their 'Injunction' an 'a/wipe'.

After my mother, Julia M. Zecchino was murdered, her remains were quickly cremated. Contrary to Florida Law, The Marco Island Police Department admits they have no Death Report. Fishy? Nope. Business as usual.

I write to caution others about this 'crime syndicate'. They attacked us smoothly, without one scintilla of concern for legal consequences. Cops say that means they're is practiced, cunning, well-schooled....they'll do it to others'. I write in hope others will take note, steer clear of them and the troubles that accompany them.

Estate Grifting today is big business. Gothic Novels described it. Daphne DuMaurier's novel, 'My Cousin Rachel', describes what Zecchino Estate Grifters did to us as if they used DuMaurier's novel as a blueprint.

In our case, people are dead before their time. Investigators advised us to live carefully, as The Living Trust of 1957 is valid, albeit hijacked. My late mother and I are beneficiaries. That makes for an interesting life, to quote a Chinese curse.

Murder outs. Always. What seems a high flying gag goes along great. Then, as Sheriff Joe "Pink Panties" Arpaio recently learned, it goes bad, it goes very bad.

Check out my article on, to appear Monday or Tuesday, 29/30 of October, regarding Arpaio's Judicial Terrorism against The Phoenix New Times. Every criminal scheme, every police state gag carries within the seeds of its own destruction.

Murder outs - always. Truth can never be buried.

Dr. Paul Vincent Zecchino Manasota Key, Florida 28 October, 2007

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