The Looters (12 page)

If I had read this report, I never would have recommended going through with the purchase.

I lost my breath again. Mother of God. Hiram would go berserk when he saw Bensky’s report.

Questions flew through my head, ricocheting around my skull, banging against one another. How could this happen to me? Why would the examiner call and tell me nothing was wrong—and then send a report two days later saying the provenance was suspicious? It made no sense. Did he find something suspicious after he spoke to me?

I found the answer to that question at the bottom of his report:

No, you bastard, you didn’t cause me any inconvenience. You just cost me my fucking job! My life.

I closed my eyes and told myself this was just a nightmare, that I had wandered into a John Farris tale of horror.

“Why didn’t you call me when you found something suspicious?” I asked Bensky. Rhetorically, of course, since he wasn’t present. But it was a very good question. A $55 million question.

My survival financially and emotionally—and a big chunk of Hiram’s money—was riding on it. Of course, Bensky didn’t know that. Not as far as I knew. I never disclosed how valuable the piece was that we were planning to bid on. He probably did examinations for individuals who were more worried about $55,000 purchases than what we paid for the Semiramis.

But even if he didn’t know the purchase price, no one with any business sense would have sent a written report that directly conflicted with his verbal report without picking up the phone and explaining it. It just didn’t make sense. Bensky was a professional; he couldn’t be that stupid. But as I thought about it, I realized with a growing sense of horror that he might have called.

I had left for an art sale in London soon after talking on the phone to him. Went there at Lipton’s invitation, as a matter of fact. Bensky may have called, found out I was out of town, and simply sent over his report. I may have even mentioned to him that I would be leaving town shortly. Jesus. I did tell him that. I’m sure of it.

I also realized now how the report could have gotten filed without my seeing it.

Before I left for London, I had dictated a memo to Hiram and Eric telling them that the document examiner had validated the provenance. My secretary, Rita, would have typed and distributed it the day I flew out. Bensky’s report was faxed over late that same afternoon. Rita could have decided that I had already seen the report and filed it. She was no rocket scientist, which was why I was happy when she left suddenly a week ago to return to care for her sick mother in Puerto Rico.

The Iraqi curator was right.

The fuckin’ mask had been stolen when the museum was looted.

Holy shit.

I held my head in my hands.

My penthouse. My Jag. My designer clothes. My bloody career.

Hiram was not just going to fire me; he was going to have me burned at the stake.

I squeezed my head, breathless, ready to vomit, when I realized that everything was even worse than I had imagined.

Besides losing everything I had worked for and being hounded out of the trade, I would be facing an accusation of buying stolen property… and sitting on a report that proved my guilt.

I didn’t know much about the law, but I knew that buying stolen artifacts was a serious crime.

My brains were scrambled. Not knowing which way to turn, I made four copies of the provenance: a copy for Hiram, one for Eric, one to keep at my desk, and another to carry with me. I didn’t bother copying Bensky’s report. I stuck that in my pocket. I wasn’t sure yet how to deal with it.

I returned to my office to make a phone call. I didn’t have Rita’s number in Puerto Rico. She might have given it to Nurse Ratched and I could get it in the morning, but the last thing I would do was ask that woman for it, out of fear she’d instinctively sense my panic and use it against me.

Rita would never admit to filing a report without showing it to me, anyway. At the moment, I was reasonably certain that I was the only one who knew the contents of the report.

I had to talk to Bensky to find out if there was any other interpretation than the one he had stated. I needed to get across to him that the report got filed without my seeing it. Get him behind me before the police or anyone else got to him.

I looked at my watch. Two o’clock in the morning. Bensky lived in Pelham, about an hour north of the city. I knew he worked out of his house. I hoped I would wake him up from a deep sleep, when he was most susceptible to the power of suggestion.

After six rings, his telephone recorder came on. “Out of town, leave a message; I check frequently.”

Trying to keep the stress out of my voice, I said that I needed to talk to him immediately. I left my cell number.

My next call went to Neal. He was cranky and groggy when he answered.

“The provenance is a fraud.”

“What provenance?” It took a minute for the statement to sink into his head.

“The Semiramis.”

“What? Are you kidding me?” He was wide awake now.

I told him about the report.

“Font? You mean the type style is wrong?”

“That’s what Bensky said. The font and the space between letters.”

“He told you on the phone that nothing looked suspicious and then sent you a report trashing it? Is he a fuckin’ idiot?”

“No, I am the idiot—and fucked.”

“I don’t believe this. You got an adverse document examination report and simply filed it?” he said accusingly.

My grip tightened on the phone. “My secretary filed it without showing it to me.” I was getting irritated.

“It doesn’t make any difference. Do you think anyone will believe that?”

“Don’t you think I already thought of that? The question is, What do we do now?”

I knew the “we” would cause him to freeze.

“Maddy…”

“Neal… you convinced me to bid on the goddamned piece. And it wasn’t the only piece I bought because of you. You acted as the middleman in treaty sales between Lipton and me. Do I have to tell you who the provenance agent was on those sales?”

No answer from his end.

“The same Viktor Milan who prepared the provenances on everything you sold me. What do you think the chances are that some of those won’t pass muster when Hiram has everything he ever bought examined?”

More silence.

“Who is this Milan anyway?” I asked. “How long have you been dealing with him?”

“I don’t deal with him. I’ve never even met him. Lipton knows him.”

“Lipton, Lipton, Lipton. Jesus, his name’s been popping up tonight. I’m beginning to get an ugly suspicion that he dumped stuff on us when he knew better.”

“Did you get provenances for other pieces examined by Bensky?”

“No, the Semiramis was the only piece expensive enough to justify it. Besides, I know Lipton. I didn’t think there would be a problem.” I didn’t keep the anger out of my voice. Lipton’s reputation wasn’t that he was an angel, but that he had a corner on the lion’s share of Middle East antiquities. I’d never heard of him pushing a phony provenance.

“Are you going to have those provenances checked?” Neal asked.

I thought for a moment. “Should I?”

“Only if you want to tighten the rope around your neck.”

“Are you saying they’re frauds?”

“I’m not saying anything. I know nothing about them. Like you, because I have a long history of dealing with Lipton, his word is gold with me. But if you start going through your collection looking for dirt, you’re liable to find some.”

I shook my head, trying to clear it. “I don’t know what to do.”

“There’s one thing you should do… absolutely nothing. Don’t do a thing. Let the world turn without you.”

“Hide my head. What good will that do?”

“Not hide your head, just keep your mouth shut. This isn’t over. If it was a small piece, like the others you bought, it would blow over. Museums return pieces to other countries all the time… after haggling about it for a dozen years. But the Semiramis is too important. You’re liable to get the Iraqi government involved. The news media will hit the accusation of U.S. military involvement hard. Maybe the police will be—”

“The police? Why the police?” It was a stupid question. I already knew the answer. “If the pieces were stolen…”

“Exactly. It’s a crime.”

“What do I do?”

“I just told you. Nothing. Keep your mouth shut.
Deny, deny, deny.
That’s how it works. You admit to anything, even something innocent, and they use it against you. You volunteer nothing and deny everything.”

“But Bensky’s report. They’ll see—”

“What report?”

“The report I just told you—”

“
What report?
”

Jesus. I finally got it. He was telling me to hide the report.

“Neal, Bensky knows about the report.”

“Did Bensky personally deliver the report to your office and place it in your hands?”

“Of course not; he faxed it.”

“Then how does anyone prove you’ve ever seen the report?”

“This is getting complicated.”

“No, it’s really simple. If the report isn’t in the file, no one will know about it. If word gets out from Bensky or otherwise that there was a report, hell, you were out of town when the report was faxed over. You never saw it—”

“That’s the real truth.”

“Bensky may not have heard about the accusation—you said he’s out of town. And even if he did, once you let him know he’s part of a fifty-five-million-dollar problem, you can bet your ass he won’t be out to make an enemy of you. You have to get to him and neutralize him.”

“What about Milan?”

“I’ll see what I can find out. Maddy, I know a lawyer, a guy who buys art; he knows the trade. I’ll call him tomorrow.”

“I don’t need a lawyer.”

“Just in case.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. Was I stupid or what? Of course I needed a lawyer. What kind of rotten karma did I have? I’ve gone from the woman of the hour to a woman in desperate need of a lawyer.

We hung up and I stared down at the document examiner’s report. A smoking gun. That’s what they called it on the cop and lawyer shows on television.

In a sense, I was sitting on a museum full of smoking guns: The provenance on the Semiramis was a fraud, and I’d bought other pieces from Lipton with provenances provided by the same man.

What the hell had I gotten myself into?

FBI
T
OP
T
EN
A
RT
C
RIMES

The FBI Art Crime Team has identified the TEN TOP ART CRIMES. We ask your help in bringing these masterworks to light by contributing any information on the circumstances of the crime or the whereabouts of the stolen works of art. In this way we ask your help in bringing the thieves to justice.

1. 7,000–10,000 looted and stolen Iraqi artifacts, 2003

Iraqi cultural institutions and archaeological sites suffered major losses of historical artifacts. Between 7,000–10,000 remain missing from the Baghdad museum. Looting from archaeological sites continues on a massive scale.

2. 13 paintings from the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum theft, 1990

In March 1990, the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, Boston, was robbed by two unidentified men. The thieves removed works of art whose value has been estimated as high as $300 million.

3. Munch’s
The Scream
and
The Madonna
, the Munch Museum in Oslo, 2004

Two masked thieves entered in daylight while the museum was open and stole the two paintings. Museumgoers witnessed the thieves threaten the museum staff with guns and remove the paintings. They escaped in a black Audi. (
The Madonna
alone was worth $15 million.)

4. Benvenuto Cellini
Salt Cellar
from Vienna’s Kunsthistorisches Museum, 2003

In May 2003, at 4
A.M.
, a thief used a workmen’s scaffolding to break into the museum through a first-floor window. Smashing the unprotected glass display case, the thief stole a gold, ebony, and enamel salt cellar valued at $55 million. (A salt cellar holds salt on a dinner table. This one was made for a king.)

5. Caravaggio’s
Nativity with San Lorenzo and San Francesco
from Palermo, 1969

Two thieves entered the Oratory of San Lorenzo and removed the Caravaggio
Nativity
from its frame. Experts estimate its value at $20 million.

6. Davidoff-Morini Stradivarius violin from a New York apartment, 1995

A $3 million Stradivarius violin was stolen from the New York City apartment of Erica Morini, a noted concert violinist. Made in 1727 by Antonio Stradivari, the violin is known as the Davidoff-Morini Stradivarius.

7. Two Van Gogh paintings from Amsterdam’s Vincent Van Gogh Museum, 2002

Two thieves used a ladder to climb to the roof and break into the museum. They stole two Van Goghs with a combined value of $30 million.

8. Cezanne’s
View of Auvers-sur-Oise
from Oxford’s Ashmolean Museum, 1999

During the fireworks that accompanied the celebration of the millennium, a thief broke into the museum and stole the £3 million Cezanne landscape.

9. Da Vinci’s
Madonna of the Yarnwinder
from Scotland’s Drumlanrig Castle, 2003

Two men dressed as tourists taking a public tour of the castle overpowered a tour guide and stole the Da Vinci valued at $65 million. With two accomplices, the men escaped in a white VW Golf, found abandoned nearby.

10. Theft of Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney Murals, 2002

Two oil paintings by Maxfield Parrish valued at $4 million were cut from their frames and stolen during a burglary of a gallery in West Hollywood, California.

—FBI Web site

Chapter 18

Brighton Beach, Brooklyn

“Na zdorovie.” FBI Special Agent Rick Nunes raised a shot of chilled vodka and gave his informant Vlad the traditional Russian drinking toast. As Nunes downed the burning liquid, he wondered how long the Russian
mafiya
would let Vlad live.