century,’ I chipped in. ‘I know, because when I was preparing for my last trip, I read somewhere that Krylov had started his career as an icon painter and that most of his work, or at least his best-known work, is in the State Russian Museum in Saint Petersburg.’
‘LISTEN,’ Läufer shouted. ‘ACCORDING TO THE INTERNET, ILYA YEFIMOVICH KRYLOV (1844-1930) IS REGARDED AS THE OUTSTANDING REALIST PAINTER OF HIS GENERATION. BORN IN CHUGUYEV, HE STUDIED AT THE IMPERIAL ACADEMY OF ARTS IN SAINT PETERSBURG. A FINE DRAFTSMAN AND SKILLED COLORIST, HE WAS BEST-KNOWN FOR THE PARTICULAR SUBJECT MATTER OF HIS WORKS.’
‘Läufer, please,’ interjected Roi, taking advantage of a brief pause in the loudmouth’s pronouncements. ‘Write in lower case.’
‘I CAN’T. I’VE ALREADY TOLD YOU WHY. TO CONTINUE: HIS PROFOUNDLY MOVING PORTRAYALS OF THE COMMON PEOPLE REFLECTED HIS CRITICAL STANDPOINT TOWARDS THE TSARIST REGIME. HIS
BARGE HAULERS ON THE VETLUGA
(1870, STATE RUSSIAN MUSEUM, SAINT PETERSBURG), WHICH SHOWS THE BOATMEN HARNESSED UP LIKE BEASTS OF BURDEN, MADE HIM FAMOUS. HE PAINTED A SERIES OF WORKS REPRESENTING MAJOR HISTORICAL EVENTS AND ALSO PRODUCED A NUMBER OF CONTEMPLATIVE PORTRAITS OF CONTEMPORARY RUSSIAN COMPOSERS AND ARTISTS. HIS WORK BECAME A REFERENCE POINT FOR THE SOCIALIST REALIST SCHOOL IN THE SOVIET UNION DURING THE MID-20TH CENTURY.’
‘For God’s sake! Are you incapable of sorting out that bloody keyboard?’
By way of an answer, a blood-red rose began to float its way up the white screen, with the simple inscription -
FOR DONNA
.
‘The point is this,’ Roi continued, blithely ignoring the bickering. ‘Melentyev wants a 1916 Krylov painting entitled
Muzhiks
, which is currently in the possession of a German industrialist called Helmut Hübner.’
‘Hübner?’ Rook asked. ‘Hübner the cookie tycoon?’
‘Exactly. Not to mention his breads and cakes.’
‘That guy’s one of the richest people in the whole of Germany. That’s right, isn’t it, Läufer? His corporations and subsidiaries are listed on Europe’s leading stock exchanges and, according to
Forbes
magazine, he’s worth several hundred million euros.’
In his now familiar style, Läufer channeled the well-known jingle from the TV commercials for Hübner’s best-selling cookies through our speakers.
‘I WORKED FOR HIM ONCE. I GAVE HIM A NEGATIVE VALUATION OF A PIECE HE WANTED TO ACQUIRE: A FOLDED CRYSTAL VASE, BILLED AS BEING MADE BY THE
COMPAGNIE DES CRISTALLERIES DE BACCARAT
, BUT WHICH WAS IN FACT MADE AT THE SAINTE-ANNE GLASSWORKS.’
‘But the Sainte-Anne glassworks was the forerunner of the Baccarat crystalworks,’ Roi pointed out, puzzled. ‘Why did you give a negative valuation when the Sainte-Anne piece was much more valuable?’
‘BECAUSE HE WAS EXCLUSIVELY INTERESTED IN BACCARAT CRYSTAL PRODUCED BETWEEN 1861 AND 1875. I REMEMBER EVERY DETAIL. EVEN THOUGH I GAVE THE PIECE A MUCH HIGHER APPRAISAL VALUE, I HAD TO REJECT IT ON HIS BEHALF.’
‘So that means we’re dealing with a highly selective collector,’ remarked Cavalo. ‘A man who knows exactly what he wants and who has built up a large collection of carefully chosen works of art, including the Krylov canvas.’
‘Right - and that suggests he’ll have all his treasures very well protected,’ I added, pointedly. Roi might be the organizer, Donna and Cavalo the forgers, Rook the money-launderer and Läufer the computer geek, but I was the one who actually carried out the heists, the one who put her neck on the line every time, the superfit player who climbed in through the windows, sashayed along the rooftops, scaled the walls and cracked the alarm systems.
‘Relax, Peón,’ Roi consoled me. ‘You can be sure that everybody will do a thorough job, as always, and you’ll be fully briefed on all the obstacles every step of the way.’
‘The obstacles are never 100% predictable.’
‘PEÓN IS A CRYBABY.’
‘SHUT UP, LÄUFER. DON’T TYPE