IN Kaliningrad and Volgograd and Yaroslavl, nobody wants to talk politics. But as the globe turns its attention to the World Cup – enjoying the matches, cheering the teams, and trying to forget world politics – the life and times of Lochaber refugee Dr Alexander Shapovalov is a stark essay on the host country’s respect for basic rights and freedoms.

There are shades of Le Carré about Shapovalov’s story, explored in a Scottish court last week. In Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, Irina – the Russian double agent – dreams of a making a new life in Scotland, away from the squalor and the deadly danger of Cold War spycraft – but is liquidated for her indiscretions by Moscow Central.

Alexander Shapovalov, by contrast, managed to escape to the Highlands. He claims political asylum for fear of meeting the same fate as Irina if he returns to Russia.

On the 24th of August 2015 – after two years’ house arrest and a trial lasting one year – Alexander Shapovalov was sentenced to 10 years imprisonment for an alleged fraud. Before his brush with the Russian legal authorities, Shapovalov was a senior figure in the Russian Institute of Applied Chemistry. Dating back to 1919, the IAC and was a key Soviet era state industry, fallen on hard times by the turn of millennium.

Shapovalov testified that he had tried to get the institute back on track, but made powerful enemies in the process. With the rise of Putin’s kleptocratic post-Soviet government, Shapovalov fell foul of the powers that be and found himself on the receiving end of a prosecution alleging that he had his hand in the institute’s till to the tune of tens of thousands of pounds.

Shapovalov wasn’t there to hear the St Peterburg court’s verdict which – as he predicted – was draconian and dramatically out of kilter with how similar cases are treated by the legal authorities.

Anticipating conviction despite the weakness of the case against him – and dreading the squalid and isolated character of the “correctional colony” to which he was sure to be sent for a substantial term – Shapovalov slipped his electronic tag, gathered up his young family and made a bid for freedom.

His escape brought him to Ballachulish on the shores of Loch Leven, where he now lives with his partner, Regina Imamutdinova, and their two children. Both children have special needs, but seem to be prospering well in their new community. “People in Scotland have been very kind,” they said.

But the Russian authorities weren’t prepared to let the matter rest. They instructed Scottish prosecutors to haul Shapovalov up in front of Edinburgh’s Extradition Court. They wanted their fugitive back. He spent six months on remand in Peterhead, leaving his young family to fend for themselves, without income, without a car, with “little” English.

Ably represented by Mungo Bovey QC, Shapovalov threw every argument against the legal action. The extradition request was an abuse of process, he argued. A clutch of his fundamental rights would be put in jeopardy if he was surrendered to the Russian authorities. Shapovalov faced condemnation by a criminal tribunal that was neither independent nor impartial. His family would be destroyed. As his partner told the court, there was “no chance of a life for us” in Russia if the extradition request was granted.

To say Sheriff Nigel Ross was unimpressed by the evidence marshalled by the Russian authorities in this case would be a dramatic understatement. After the March poisoning of Sergei and Yulia Skripal, and the diplomatic blow-back which followed it, the Russian authorities were posted missing in the extradition court. They left the Crown Office high and dry, missing meetings, failing to co-operate, submitting only written papers from a pet Russian legal academic whose “dismissive and judgemental” report was characterised by the judge as “misguided” and “not credible ... “independent, fair or informative evidence”.

Rejecting the extradition request last week, Sheriff Ross’s verdict is scorching indictment not only of the integrity of the Russian judicial system, but of its overcrowded and underfunded prisons and the political spirit which is now ruling in the hosts of the 21st World Cup tournament. The judge had the benefit of eyewatering expert evidence on how the Russian justice system operates.

Professor Bill Bowring, a Russian expert working out of Birkbeck University of London’s law school, described how “in the former USSR criminal prosecution, threatened or actual, was used as a political tool for forcing compliance. This practice has continued, but with an additional aspect that the justice authorities have close ties with commercial business interests.” He characterised this practice – known as “zakaznoye delo”, or prosecution to order – as “widespread and endemic” in Russia.

So endemic is this procedure, that a rough tariff can, apparently, be put on how much each legal intervention would cost you in bungs and bribes to the appropriate officials. Opening a criminal investigation against a competitor might set you back $20,000 to $50,000.

If a paramilitary police raid on a company office is what you’re after, then this might be bought for $30,000 in Putin’s Russia.

A favourable court ruling seems the most elastic element of this corrupt economy, with going rates ranging from $10,000 to $200,000 as judicial avarice requires. If you cannot bribe the judge, or secure a quiet word in their ear about how the case ought to go down – there’s always the alternative of picking the right man or woman for the job.

You know: the kind of bench warmer who can be relied on to rule the right way.

The evidence shows Shapovalov had good reason to be sceptical about the fairness of Russian justice where state interests intersect with criminal procedures. The acquittal rate before the St Petersburg court is estimated to be “only 0.2%”. You can forgive Sheriff Ross a little scepticism about the idea that 99.8% of people arraigned are banged to rights and guilty as sin. “These features also indicate strongly that justice is not being done,” he said.

“Abuse of the legal system has become a central mechanism for the purpose of applying power or removing individuals,” Sheriff Ross concluded, observing “all of these sources create a bleak picture of a consistent and increasing refusal by the Russian state to observe either its international obligations, or its domestic obligations toward its own people and the rule of law”.

By all means, enjoy the football matches. Cheer on your team. But don’t be naive about how the host nation rules its affairs.

Having freed Shapovalov from the shadow of Russia’s legal brigandry, Sheriff Nigel Ross’s next task is to decide whether Clara Ponsati must return to Spain to face trial. When it comes to upholding fundamental rights, and training righteous fire on those who would make a mockery of our justice system for their own nefarious ends, this courageous judgment proves Sheriff Ross is no slouch.