Masterpiece (12 page)

“Really?” James’s eyes were wide. Marvin had to admit, it was hard to picture someone swapping one of those lovely, delicate, centuries-old artworks for a secret stash of weapons.

“Well, that’s one kind of theft,” Denny interjected. “Stealing art is not like other crimes. Sometimes it’s not for money at all. Sometimes it’s really for love.”

“True.” Christina nodded. “There can be genuine feeling behind it. In the case of the
Mona Lisa
, the thief just wanted the painting returned to its homeland.”

“But why would he care about that?” James asked.

Karl ruffled his hair. “It’s Leonardo da Vinci’s most famous work. Many Italians see it as a national treasure. They aren’t happy that it’s in a French museum.”

“His works are common targets for thieves,” Christina said. “
Madonna with the Yarnwinder
was taken from a Scottish castle several years ago, by two men posing as tourists. They overpowered a guide and took it right off the wall.”

“Was that worth a lot of money too?” James asked.

“Oh, yes. It’s a masterpiece. Fifty million? A hundred million? Never recovered.”

James let out a long breath, and Marvin wasn’t sure whether it was because of the lost money or the lost painting.

“Do they ever get them back? The paintings, I mean,” he asked Christina.

“It’s rare, but it happens. You can’t imagine how exciting that is.” She squeezed James’s shoulder. “When Edvard Munch’s painting
The Scream
was found, the museum opened its doors for a night and served champagne. Everyone in the art world was overjoyed. And then there was that strange theft in Manchester, right, Denny?” Christina turned to Denny for confirmation. “In England a few years ago, a bunch of stolen canvases by van Gogh, Picasso, and Gauguin were found rolled up in a cardboard tube and stuffed behind a public toilet, just down the street from the gallery where they’d been stolen two days earlier.”

“Was the thief caught?” Karl asked.

Denny shook his head. “Not that I recall. And in that case, he left a nice little note complimenting the gallery on
its security!” He smiled. “Again, it’s not your typical crime, and the people involved aren’t your typical criminals.”

“Well,” Christina protested, “sometimes they are. The National Museum in Stockholm? Three men with guns broke in and stole a Rembrandt self-portrait and two Renoirs.”

“Yes, that’s right,” Denny murmured. “They escaped by speedboat. Those paintings were recovered by a Danish policeman posing undercover as an art buyer.”

“Really?” Karl said. “They got all of them back?”

“Yes,” Christina answered, lost in thought. “All of them.”

The room fell silent. Marvin’s head was spinning. It was hard to imagine dusty, quiet museums as the settings for such flamboyant crimes. It was also hard to believe that a drawing or painting could be worth so many millions of dollars.

“But what’s all this got to do with the Dürer drawing?” Karl asked finally.

“There are four drawings, actually,” Christina said, “of the four cardinal virtues: Fortitude, Justice, Prudence, and Temperance. Bellini drew only a picture of Fortitude, but Dürer drew pictures of all four. All miniatures, incredibly detailed.”

“What does that mean . . . ‘prudence’?” James asked.

His father paused. “Carefulness, really. Being cautious, thinking things through.”

That was like James, thought Marvin. James was always careful.

“And temperance is moderation,” Christina explained. “Not overdoing it.”

Marvin rolled his eyes, though no one could see him. Grown-ups couldn’t seem to understand that it was always better to overdo it.

“Okay, four Dürer drawings,” Karl prompted her. “And?”

“And . . . they were stolen. Or at least, three of them were.
Prudence
and
Temperance
were taken from a little museum in Baden-Baden, Germany, two years ago—they were so small, the thief just lifted the frames from the wall and tucked them under his jacket.”

It would be easy to hide those drawings, Marvin thought. They were so little.

“
Justice
. . .” Christina hesitated.

Marvin saw that Denny was watching her, his expression a blend of sympathy and regret. When she didn’t go on, he started talking himself: “
Justice
was taken last year. The Met had just purchased it, at Christina’s urging, from a London dealer. It was a major coup for the collection. Old Master drawings have become a hot ticket lately, selling for hundreds of thousands. I wanted it for the Getty, of course.” He smiled down at James. “A companion to
Fortitude
. My museum in California has quite a collection of European drawings, and I have a soft spot for Dürer. For the
Virtue
drawings in particular.”

“
Justice
had minor water damage,” Christina continued. “It was in the Conservation Department last March,
being repaired, when the office was broken into. That drawing was the only thing taken.” She shook her head at Denny.

“It was terrible,” Denny said. “I was in New York for a conference, and the theft cast a pall over our entire weekend. We were all just stunned.”

“I remember reading about it,” Karl said. “But why only that drawing? There must have been other valuable artworks in Conservation.”

Christina and Denny exchanged a wistful smile.

“Dürer,” Denny said.

“Yes, Dürer,” Christina agreed. “If it were just an ordinary theft—you’re right, there were several valuable paintings in the office. But this wasn’t about the money, in my opinion, nor were the thefts of the two other
Virtue
drawings,
Prudence
and
Temperance
. People have a thing for Dürer.”

Karl raised an eyebrow.

But Marvin immediately understood. That was the power of the drawings: the sadness, homeliness even, of the people. They were so real.

James chewed his lip, studying Marvin’s picture of the woman and the lion. “But I don’t see why you need a copy of this one,” he said. “You
have
this one. Why don’t you want a copy of
Justice
, since that’s the one that’s missing?”

“Because, James,” Christina said eagerly, her words soft and rushed, “I think someone is collecting these drawings. And whoever that person is, he’ll want the complete set. The four virtues. This is the only one left.”
She turned to Denny. “I’ve been talking to people at the FBI, in the art-theft program. They say it might work. They’re willing to help.”

“Help what?” Karl exclaimed in frustration. “I still don’t understand.”

James dropped into a chair, and Marvin was immediately blocked from any view of the adults. He inched his way out of the pocket and climbed James’s zipper surreptitiously, glad that everyone’s attention was focused elsewhere.

Christina took a deep breath. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I know it’s complicated. But everything is almost in place!” She looked at Denny. “I have the support of the FBI. They have an underground contact, someone who deals in stolen art. What I need is a forgery of
Fortitude
.”

“But why?” James asked.

Christina twisted her hands together, her face flushed. “This is my plan: We’ll have you draw it again, James, on the right paper with the right ink. Then we’ll substitute your drawing for the real one, and stage a theft. Listen, the drawing has to be good, but it doesn’t have to be perfect. Everyone knows
Fortitude
is part of this exhibition. They know it’s real. Our forgery won’t be judged for authenticity by the thief, only by the person intending to buy it . . . and that deal will never happen.”

“What thief?” Karl asked. “This isn’t making sense. You’re going to hire someone to steal your own drawing?”

“The forgery. Not the real one. And the ‘thief’ will be someone who works for the FBI.” She paused. “They’ll put some kind of tracking device on the fake drawing of
Fortitude
. The FBI will get the drawing into the hands of someone who deals in stolen art—”

“And that person will lead you to the other drawings,” Denny finished. He nodded slowly. “To
Justice
. It’s very clever.”

It
was
clever, Marvin thought. Who’d suspect a museum of masterminding its own burglary? Of forging its own art?

Karl shook his head. “But how do you get the drawing
to the black market? That’s not exactly easy. It’s not like you have regular contact with criminals.” He raised his eyebrows, adding, “I assume.”

“No,” Christina allowed. “But remember what Denny said about the Stockholm theft? The undercover policeman? That’s been one of the most effective ways to recover stolen art: police officers or FBI agents posing as underground art dealers. I feel sure we can get the forgery into the right hands.” She smiled. “Or the wrong hands, as the case may be.”

“My hat’s off to you, Christina,” Denny said. “It’s impressive.”

“So you’re going to pretend to steal my drawing?” James asked.

Christina nodded.

“But what if you’re wrong?” Karl asked. “What if there isn’t one person who is collecting the complete set? What if the drawings aren’t together?”

“Well, that’s always a possibility.”

“And what if something happens to my drawing?” James asked. In his spot on James’s jacket, Marvin shuddered. His drawing . . . would it disappear into this world of fake policemen and guns and million-dollar paintings lost forever?

Christina knelt beside James, inches from Marvin, who quickly hid himself in a fold of fabric. “The whole thing is a gamble. I know that,” she said gently, looking only at James. Marvin realized this was one of the things he liked about Christina: how she gave James her
full attention, as though anything he said or asked was every bit as important as the comments coming from the grown-ups.

“The FBI doesn’t care,” she continued, “whether our staged burglary leads to the stolen Dürer drawings or to other stolen works of art. It will still point the way to key players in the underground art market. But, of course,
I
care. If this doesn’t give us
Justice
, I’ll be . . .”—she hesitated—“so disappointed.”

Karl still looked uncertain. “I see how it could work, but won’t you need a lot of other people on board? I mean, the museum security staff, the New York City police, the papers—”

“Well, not the papers,” Denny interrupted. “I assume it’s important for the press to report this as if it were a real theft.”

“Yes,” Christina agreed. “It has to look like a real burglary from the outside. But, Karl, you’re right about the others. I have to get permission from the director of the Met and make sure the local police are willing to help. That’s why the involvement of the FBI is important. And Denny, I want you to clear it with the Getty, too, obviously, since it’s one of your loaned pieces that’s the center of the whole plan. The thing is . . .”

Christina kept staring at James, her eyes filled with wonder. “This idea occurred to me months ago, when Denny and I were discussing the setup for the exhibit. But I never thought I’d find someone who could do the forgery of
Fortitude
. I didn’t believe it was possible . . .
until I saw your drawing, James. And then I thought: ‘He could do it.’ And you did!”

Marvin felt a strange mixture of pride and fear and worry. James only blushed, staring at the drawing.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “You want me to copy it so you can steal it.”

“Yes,” Christina agreed. “Steal the fake one to find the real one.
Justice
.”