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Raphael. He seemed particularly interested in works known to have been damaged
and subsequently restored, information with which many private owners are
naturallyjealons of parting.
Consequently, when he called to see me in London some four months after the
disappearance of the Leonardo, it was not in a purely jocular sense that I
asked: 'Well, Georg, do you know who stole it yet?'
Unclipping a large briefcase, Georg smiled at me darkly.
'Would it surprise you if I said "yes" ? As a matter of fact, I
don't know, but I have an idea, an hypothesis, shall we say.
I thought you might be interested to hear it.'
'Of course, Georg,' I said, adding reprovingly: 'So this is what you've been
up to.'
He raised a thin forefinger to silence me. Below the veneer of easy charm I
noticed a new mood ofserionsness, a cutting of conversational corners. 'First,
Charles, before you laugh me out of your office, let's say that I consider my
theory completely fantastic and implausible, and yet-' he shrugged
deprecatingly '- it seems to be the only one possible. To prove it I need your
help.'
I0
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'Given before asked. But what is this theory? I can't wait to hear.'
He hesitated, apparently uncertain whether to expose his idea, and then began
to empty the briefcase, taking out a series of looseleaf files which he placed
in a row facing him along the desk. These contained what appeared to be
photographic reproductions of a number of paintings, areas within them marked
with white ink. Several of the photographs were enlargements of details, all
of a high-faced, goatee-bearded man in medieval costume.
Georg inverted six of the larger plates so that I could see them. 'You
recognize these, of course ?'
I nodded. With the exception of one, Rubens' Pietin the
Hermitage Museum at Leningrad, I had seen the originals of them all within the
previous five years. The others were the missing Leonardo Crucifixion, the
Crudfixions by Veronese, Goya and Holbein, and that by Poussin, entitled The
Place of Golgotha. All were in public museums - the Louvre, San
Stefano in Venice, the Prado and the Ryksmuseum, Amsterdam
- and all were familiar, well-authenticated masterworks, centre-pieces, apart
from the Poussin, of major national collections. 'It's reassuring to see them.
I trust they're all in good hands. Or are they next on the mysterious thief's
shopping list ?'
Georg shook his head. 'No, I don't think he's very interested in these. Though
he keeps a watching brief over them.' Again I noticed the marked change in
Georg's manner, the reflective private,humour. 'Do you notice anything else ?'
I compared the photographs again. 'They're all crucifixions.
Authentic, except perhaps in minor details. They were all easel paintings.' I
shrugged.
'They all, at some time, have been stolen.' Georg moved quickly from right to
left. 'The Poussin from the Chateau
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Loire collection in xsim, the Goya in x8o6 from the Monte
Cassino monastery, by Napoleon, the Veronese from the
Prado in x89I, the Leonardo four months ago as we know, and the Holbein in
943, looted for the Hermann Goering collection.'
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'Interesting,' I commented. But few master-wors haven't been stolen at some
time. I hope this isn't a key Point in your theory.'
'No, but in conjunction with another factor it gains in significance. Now.' He
handed the Leonardo reproduction to me. 'Anything unusual there.9' When I
shook my head at the familiar image he picked up another photograph of the
missing painting. 'What about that one
?'
The photographs had been taken from slightly different perspectives, but
otherwise seemed identical. 'They are both of the original Crucifixion,' Georg
explained, 'taken in the Louvre within a month of its disappearance.'
'I give up,' I admitted. 'They seem the same. No - wait a minute I' I pulled
the table light nearer and bent over the plates, as Georg nodded. 'They're
slightly different. What is going on ?'
Quickly, figure by figure, I compared the photographs, within a few moments
seized on the minute disparity. In almost every particular the pictures were
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