The Medici Conspiracy (42 page)

The museum bought several objects directly from Medici, she said, including fragments of the Onesimos kylix and the Caeretan Hydria, “so there was no reason why Medici's name should not appear in the museum's documents.” Challenged with the fact that, despite this statement, Medici's name does
not
appear in Getty documents, she answered that some objects were in the name of the Hydra Gallery, though she admitted that the words “Editions Services” do not appear in the Getty archives. Asked about the letter she wrote to Bürki, concerning the ongoing investigation, in which she said she had seen the tripod in Geneva at Medici's, and not in Zurich at Bürki's, she answered that her memory was faulty and that she had only remembered the true course of events when prompted by Hecht. When the museum returned the tripod, it did so on the basis that it would not be returned to Guglielmi because he “had probably smuggled it out only to then report the theft once it had been discovered.” She admitted sending verbal guarantees to Medici concerning the arrival of the tripod even though he didn't appear to be the owner. She said that the confidential, intimate tone of her letters to Medici was due to the fact that she and the museum needed him because of the case of the kouros, the fake they had bought from Becchina, after Medici sent proof of its falsity. In addition, letters exchanged with Medici concerning three olpai were indicated by Medici as coming from Monte Abatone in Cerveteri. Medici had told her whence the objects came. She said, “Evidently he was in relation with whoever had excavated them.”

True said she was present at an argument between Robin Symes and Robert Guy, in which the latter, while examining objects of Symes's collection, had pretended not to have ever seen them before, whereas she knew that he had seen them at Medici's and kept this fact secret. “It was therefore obvious that Symes' objects came from Medici.”

Regarding the Onesimos kylix, the initial purchase was made by Jiri Frel from the Galerie Nefer (Frida Tchacos's gallery). Then the fragments
of the central tondo were bought by Arthur Houghton (the museum did not ascertain its provenance, but True agreed that the fragments came from the Hydra Gallery), and one fragment was donated in 1986 or 1987 by von Bothmer—it was a fragment that Dyfri Williams had recognized among those of von Bothmer's collection. The fragment had a sticker on it, which read “RH'68,” which she understood to mean “Robert Hecht 1968.” She recognized among the photos seized from Medici—including a Polaroid—the fragments of the tondo of the kylix, and she confirmed that, in 1991, Williams published this object, reporting that he had seen a fragment of the border that, she confirmed, was in Medici's possession. She had received from Christo Michaelides a photocopy of a photograph that showed the fragment. Michaelides said that the piece was on the market (more triangulation), but she was never offered it. (It was this fragment, indicated by Dyfri Williams, that had been handed over by Medici when he knew that the game was up.)

True said that she knew at least some of the Levy-White collection came from Tchacos, Hecht, Symes, the Aboutaams, and Becchina because several objects had first been offered to her by these people. She admitted that the Hunt Collection was gathered through Hecht, McNall, and the Summa Gallery—and she confirmed moreover that when she first went to the Getty, Jiri Frel had told her about “the sodality between Hecht, Bürki and the Hunts.”

She described Ortiz as “an exceptionally unpleasant human being. He—he lives outside of Geneva, has his collection in a vault underground. I think his closest connection is with Becchina and with—He was close with Nikolas Koutoulakis. He seemed to have a love-hate relationship with Robin Symes, who threw him down the stairs once.”

Regarding the Attic plates, she said that when the museum decided not to buy them, Medici refused to sell the accompanying fragments, which had been offered for about $125,000.

Shown the photographs of the Pompeian frescoes, she confirmed that she had seen the real things in Zurich—where she remembered there were three walls (which means that at least one is still missing). In her opinion they would be impossible to sell, and in fact she said she was so worried by the offer that she had someone accompany her—professor Michael Strocka, an expert in frescoes from Freiberg University—as a witness. She
added that there was “part of the cornice” that reminded her of a fragment in the Levy-White Collection and that there was a fragment in the Fleischman Collection that “could be part of the same” and, if so, perhaps it should be returned. She said she was shocked by the frescoes: “It is impossible to remove architectural objects like these without destroying the structure.”

This was an important moment. During the lunch break on the second day, Maurizio Pellegrini had been shown around the museum by True herself. He found her much more sympathetic than he had expected and far more so than anyone else on the opposing team. They stopped in front of the Griffins and Pellegrini looked from the beautifully displayed loot toward True. “I felt that, in that moment, True was ‘
dispiaciuta
'” (sorry). Not so much sorry for being guilty, which he felt she was, but because she was an archaeologist and was betraying her profession.

Ferri was tougher. His heart had begun to harden against True when he had heard what Tchacos had to say about the Fleischmans and the way the Getty curator had used—and abused, as he saw it—her relationship with them. As True talked about being “shocked” by the frescoes she had seen in the Bürkis' workshop, he also recalled the fact that it was written in the catalog to the Fleischman Collection that their fresco, the lunette of Hercules, “came from the same room” as one in the Levy-White Collection and, as Ferri now knew, had its twin in Corridor 17. He felt that Marion True was appealing for sympathy here when she didn't deserve it. It is fair to say that, from that moment, Ferri was determined to bring True to trial.

After lunch, proceeding to other matters, Ferri next tackled an example of the trade in fragments, or orphans. The kantharos with masks was first offered—to Jiri Frel—by Symes. To begin with, it was turned down, then sold to the museum in fragments, first by Fritz and Harry Bürki, “who said they had got it from Symes, partially put together.” Other fragments came in 1988, from Symes, then another eleven fragments in 1996, from Brian Aitken, a North American benefactor of the arts.

And in regard to the Douris Phiale, described by True as an “exceptional object,” she said that it was acquired in fragments “from various
provenances”—Tchacos, Symes, Bürki, Werner Nussberger (the husband of Tchacos). She tried hard to get all the fragments, negotiating “with everyone—Hecht, Tchacos, [Herbert] Cahn.”

More generally, True agreed that in acquiring fragments, most of the edges were sharp, meaning that they had been broken recently. “I would say in most cases they were sharp joins that were close. They allowed for a tight join.” She said there was at times “weathering” on the surface. “But they were not worn.”

She also confirmed that a certain vase that was in the Getty was shown in Medici's Polaroids. This was important because the Polaroid showed the vase with a hole punctured in it. Daniela Rizzo explained that the hole had been made by a
spillo,
a long metal spike used by tombaroli to thrust in the ground, searching for buried tombs. From time to time, the spike punctures the vases of a very full tomb—so this type of hole betrays that the vase has been illegally excavated. True responded, “I know. I understand.”

Finally, Dr. True was able to render Dr. Ferri a service. He showed her a sequence of photographs, including Polaroids, and she was able to confirm not only which objects were in the Getty's collection but, in some cases, in which other museums certain objects could be found. True confirmed nineteen objects that were in the Getty, though two others—fragments of vases by the Kleophrades Painter and the Berlin Painter—could have formed part of incomplete objects they already had. She pointed out one or two fakes, as she saw them, but she located a Laconian kylix and two more objects at the Metropolitan Museum in New York; another object in Toledo, Ohio; a lekythos “in Cleveland or Richmond Museum”; a
situla
(a bronze vase with handles, like a bucket), “perhaps in Richmond”; a vase at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston; and a Sabene statue, also in Boston, acquired through Hecht. Other objects she identified as being in Minneapolis, at least one object that she knew was in the Levy-White Collection, and a third at the Japanese museum in Koreshiki Ninigawa.

From the cumbersome bilingual interviews, nothing had been unearthed during the two days with True that seemed to contradict Ferri's case. On the contrary, much had been confirmed and amplified. Medici's role, together with Becchina, as being the major source of illicit objects out
of Italy, had been reinforced. The triangulations—involving Hecht, Symes, Bürki, and Tchacos—had also been underlined. And of course, most notable were the close links between True herself and von Bothmer on the one hand, with the underworld on the other. As curator of antiquities at a major museum, True—like von Bothmer—had shown herself perfectly prepared to be part of this clandestine network, and well aware of where the objects her museum acquired had originated. She confessed herself “scandalized” at the damage that must have been done in excavating the Pompeian frescoes, but apart from that she seems to have had little compunction or regret about her part in driving other acquisitions. Certainly, during the course of her interview, she expressed no remorse. All this only confirmed for Ferri that he would, eventually, bring charges against the Getty's curator.

Ferri's primary “target” was, of course, Medici. At the same time, he couldn't ignore the fact that he now had two important pieces of evidence that changed utterly the status of the Euphronios krater at the Metropolitan Museum. He had Hecht's memoir, which said that it had been Medici—and not Dikran Sarrafian—from whom von Bothmer had acquired this object. And he now had Marion True's testimony that von Bothmer, no less, had identified the very tomb in Cerveteri from which the krater had come. (Third, of course, though this wasn't conclusive, he had another Euphronios vase, taken from Medici's safe in Corridor 17 in Geneva, now safely under lock and key at the Villa Giulia in Rome. Moreover, with linked iconography—this is the kylix in the photograph that Hoving saw.)
^v

And so Ferri now set out to see von Bothmer. In fact, in this part of the investigation he teamed up with a colleague, Dr. Frank di Maio, a Sicilian public prosecutor investigating the Morgantina silver.
^w
Obviously, the Italians thought they would strike a more reasonable and responsible bearing if they made these two inquiries at the same time. Also, the two inquiries fed on each other, together putting pressure on the Americans
to cooperate. Therefore, in the first week of August 2002, the Italians sent off an “Urgent Request for Judicial Assistance,” addressed to “The Competent Judicial Authority of New York, USA.” This followed up rogatory letters of June 2000 (immediately after the documents and antiquities had been transferred from Switzerland)—the Italians could not be accused of dithering.

The objects of their inquiry were accused of contravening, in the case brought by Ferri, four articles of the Italian penal code—neglecting to report archaeological discoveries, illegal export, receiving contraband, and conspiracy. In the case brought by Dr. di Maio's investigation of the Morgantina silver, there were three indictments—neglecting to report archaeological discoveries, illegal export, and the receiving of contraband.

The documents the public prosecutors sent to the Americans outlined succinctly why the Italians were so anxious to interview two U.S. citizens—both former employees of the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, former curator von Bothmer and Ashton Hawkins, formerly vice president of the museum and in-house counsel.