the gardner heist

thirteen ghosts

the art of the gardner museum heist

By ROn Evans

In the wee hours of March 18, 1990, the biggest art heist in history went down at the Gardner Museum in Boston. Thirteen pieces were stolen — the haul is estimated to be worth over half a billion in modern moola. This insanely brazen crime set off an investigation that would lead through a dizzying list of shady characters and a sea of theories, suspects and ultimately... disappointments.

THE LOCATION:

Isabella Stewart Gardner is a fascinating character in her own right, and certainly one worthy of a biopic. In the interest of brevity I’ll try to sum up the bullet points, if you will.

Born as Isabella Stewart in New York in 1840, the future art dealer and philanthropist enjoyed the comforts and benefits of being born into a house of riches. Her parents, David and Adelia Stewart were highly successful linen merchants who wanted their daughter to be exposed to the fine arts so they enrolled her into classes for music and dance in New York and Paris.

While traveling through Europe as a young woman (specifically the galleries) Isabella was hit with a dream to curate her own collection of important works for a museum someday — if and when the finances would allow. 1858.

While Isabella was visiting her friend, Julia Gardner in Boston, she became intrigued with Julia’s older brother, Jack Gardner — a wealthy businessman with a similar passion for collecting art. Isabella and Jack were married in 1860 and they spent many years traveling the world together, purchasing art along the way and slowly building up an impres-

Photos by the Federal Bureau of Investigations

sive and eclectic treasure all their own. The pair also began brokering deals on individual works and collections for various galleries and museums.

In 1898, Jack died suddenly, leaving Isabella in charge of the estate. She used these means (along with her connections she had built up over the years) to realize her dream of opening her own art museum. She worked closely with architect Willard T. Sears on a building that resembled the palaces of Venice, a place near and dear to Isabella and Jack. Work soon began on the structure in the rural marsh lands of South Boston and in 1903, the dream was fully realized when the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum opened its doors to the public. It quickly became one of the most important galleries in the world, hosting art by such prestigious names as Vermeer, Rembrandt and Raphael to name just a few.

Isabella Stewart Gardner was a well known socialite (100 years before the Kardashians) and her love for a good party or highbrow social event was only surpassed by her passion for growing and protecting her art collection. Even after her death in 1924 she was still having a say — in her will she had very specific instructions for maintaining the collection at her beloved museum.

Unfortunately, there was no mention of improving the security system.

THE HEIST:

1990.

It’s St. Patrick’s Day weekend in Boston. And that’s a big damn deal. The massive and famous event that is the Boston St. Patrick’s parade always takes place on a Sunday, and this year that meant March 18. But the entire weekend is alive with events that bring out hundreds of thousands of locals and out of towners. Amidst all the chaos, the sirens and the drunken tomfoolery happening under every bush on every street corner — it likely couldn’t be a more perfect time to commit a crime in Boston.

Around 7:00 am on Sunday morning two Gardner employees showed up for work as per usual. Typically pressing the buzzer on the front door was enough to alert the security guards (two worked each night shift) to hit the button and let them inside, but this morning nobody answered the buzz. The employees sensed something was wrong so they called the head of security who jumped out of bed and raced to the building to see what was up.

With master key in hand, he led them into a side entrance of the building and the three of them immediately discovered signs of a ruckus. Empty frames. Broken doors. Crowbars laying on the floor. The security guards were nowhere to be seen. One of the employees picked up a crowbar and held it up like a weapon as the group cautiously proceeded through the disheveled museum. The Gardner Museum is a three story building with separate rooms or themed galleries. The three all stopped in their tracks when they entered the Dutch Room. They called the police, and the director of the museum, Anne Hawley.

When the cops arrived the employees informed them about a tunnel under the

museum that they had not inspected yet. They all braced for the worst, clicked on their flashlights and crept toward the dark and musty tunnel. Relieved to find both security guards alive and well, albeit taped up and stressed out — the group made its way back upstairs to survey the damage and get the report straight from the guards.

What in the hell had happened?

Once they had been untaped and given a donut and some hot coffee by police (the cops brought their own to the scene) security guards Rick Abath, 23 and Randy Hestad, 25 told their tale.

Just around 1:20 AM, two men dressed in Boston Police Department uniforms approached the main entrance and told the men to let them in, they had questions. Even though it was against company protocol, Abath buzzed the two men into the museum. Once inside, the cops claimed to have an arrest warrant for Abath and the two men were handcuffed and shoved against a wall. “This is a robbery” one of the not-so-coppycops said. They wrapped duct tape over the heads of the guards, led them down to the basement and cuffed them to a metal water pipe. The thieves then made their way (each step logged by the infrared monitoring system) to the Dutch Room to begin claiming their loot.

THE PIECES:

While many of the pieces that were taken are some of the rarest works in the world, the overall ‘shopping list’ wasn’t exactly consistent. Or logical. • The Concert oil painting by Johannes Vermeer (1664) - Appraised at over $300 million, this painting is the single most valuable item ever to be stolen in history. • The Storm on the Sea of Galilee oil painting by Rembrandt (1633) - the only seascape ever painted by the celebrated artist. • A Lady and Gentleman in Black oil painting by Rembrandt (1633). • Landscape with Obelisk oil painting by Govaert Flinck (1638). • Chez Tortoni oil painting by Édouard Manet (1875). • Self-Portrait postage stamp etching by Rembrandt (1634) • La Sortie de Pesage watercolor and pencil by Edgar Degas (late 1800s). • Cortege aux Environs de Florence pencils by Edgar Degas (late 1800s). • Program for an Artistic Soirée 1 pencils by Edgar Degas (1884). • Program for an Artistic Soirée 2 pencils by Edgar Degas (1884). • Three Mounted Jockeys oil on brown paper by Edgar Degas (late

The Concert oil painting by Johannes Vermeer (1664)

1800s). • An ancient Chinese gu (date unknown). • French Imperial Eagle finial (late 1800s).

The larger paintings were literally cut out of the frames, in some cases leaving as much as half an inch of art still clinging to the edges of the ornate frames. The importance and staggering value of the oil paintings near the top of this list is oddly book-ended by the choice to steal the Chinese gu — the oldest item in the collection but not terribly valuable. Most confusing is the French Eagle flag topper. It was essentially worthless yet the robbers took the time to disassemble it from its mount. Also curious was the Rembrandt postage stamp etching. Even in the frame this miniscule piece could have easily been shoved into a pocket but the thieves took the time to unscrew it and pull the etching out, leaving the tiny frame behind.

In fact, nothing about this heist seemed particularly rushed as the infrared recordings showed that it went on for

nearly 90 minutes. More than a lifetime when you are robbing a museum filled with priceless art. This has led many to believe there must have been an ‘inside guy’ taking care of the security alarms that were being triggered. The intruders also knew about a secret doorway that was hidden as part of the gallery wall and the whereabouts of the single VCR that was recording video of the outdated security cameras in the museum.

Eject. Grab. Let’s roll.

THE SUSPECTS:

museum, that is) until Sotheby’s auction house fronted the money for a $1 million reward. Suddenly so many calls were coming in that it actually broke the museum’s phone system. The guards: Of course the first people for cops to look into were the guards. Particularly Richard Abath who was working the main entrance at the time. Questions arose about why he broke protocol and let the men in. Why did he randomly open then close the door 20 minutes before the men showed up (as the security system showed). Was Richard stoned at work? Apparently that had been a problem in the past. Why was he taped up in such an odd way (not tightly, with loops around his whole head but mouth left open). All these questions ultimately led nowhere and police had no reason to charge the guards. Myles Connor: As soon as police knew there was an art theft they’d begun to suspect Boston’s own Myles Connor, arguably America’s most famous art thief. In 1975 Connor had stolen a Rembrandt painting from Boston’s Museum of Fine Art with one purpose in mind — holding it as a bargaining chip for getting out of jail in the future. The bold trick worked. He avoided jail, and the painting was safely returned. And other criminals took notice. However, during the time of the robbery at the Gardner, Connor was in jail again. This time he had no collateral paintings up his sleeve. He was ruled out.

Irish Mob: Famed Irish mobster Whitey Bulger and his crew were looked at briefly as suspects. They had already been involved with some other art thefts as a means to raise gun money to support the IRA back on the Emerald Isle. It was also well known that Bulger had strong ties with Boston Police, which could help explain the authentic cop outfits donned by the robbers. Bulger denied responsibility and in fact claimed that he too was looking for the culprits who dared pull off something like this on his turf. Again, no concrete evidence was found.

Italian Mob: Also dabbling in art theft by this point was La Cosa Nostra, inspired by Myles Connor’s successful bargaining story. This is where things get complicated but interesting. Al-

The Storm on the Sea of Galilee oil painting by Rembrandt (1633) An ancient Chinese gu (date unknown)

though, no matter which trail you follow here...there are plot holes, missing links and a ton of conjecture.

Many mobbed-up names were popping up all over town concerning leads on the Gardner case, but the most compelling theories were all swirling around the Merlino Gang. Mob boss Carmello Merlino was a fi gure that the feds had been tailing for years by the time of the heist at the Gardner. When an FBI informant, who had been successfully implanted into the gang, caught wind of some possible info on the art theft, it was a bit of a serendipitous discovery. But that comes later...

Not long after the heist, Robert Guarente, a known associate of the crew, had also made comments openly that alluded he was in possession of the stolen works. Guarente died from cancer in 2004 so the lead went nowhere. Until 2010 when his widow Elene told the FBI that her late husband did in fact have the paintings for a few years but when he learned he was dying he gave them to Robert Gentile.

Who the fuck is Robert Gentile?

The cops asked that same question. After some looking around they found that Gentile was some lowbrow crook working on his own — but a close pal to Robert Guarente. With mostly blue collar petty crimes under his belt, Gentile seemed an unlikely player in this high stakes game. But that informant mentioned earlier? In 2012 he ended up at a meeting Gentile was hosting for a bunch of wise guys, thugs and lovers of Italian food alike. Over a feast of spaghetti and wine the informant heard Gentile tap dancing all around the paintings but never really coming out about the details. He tried to pull more information out of him but, nothing doing. So the informant convinced Gentile to sell him a bottle of his prescription pills that were on the table. Literally. Gentile sold the pills and that was the felony needed to bring him downtown. Gentile denied any knowledge of the paintings once in custody. But the feds eventually claimed they had enough reason to search his home. While tearing his place apart, they found a hole that was dug out under a shed in the backyard. Hearts pounded. Press conferences were planned. This must surely be it.

Clown horn. Empty, except for a couple guns and a little pot.

But then they found another hiding hole in the basement. Smaller, but maybe...no. Empty. Wait...what’s that down there?

It was a copy of The Boston Herald. The headline story? The Gardner art theft. Tucked inside was a page of yellow notebook paper. On the left side were all the names of the pieces that were stolen. On the right side, estimated street values of each piece. But...no paintings. Was this what it looked like? Or was it just a smartass criminal giving

Self-Portrait postage stamp etching by Rembrandt (1634)

the finger to law enforcement? Gentile wouldn’t say. At least not until after he served his 30 month prison stint for selling those pills. Bonus time for the guns and pot. Upon release he claimed the list found in the newspaper was from a fellow criminal who was trying to broker a deal for the paintings.

Going back to the early 90s.

Another Merlino crony, David Turner was said to have given the implication he had access to the paintings and by 1992, he was being tailed by the feds which led to him being arrested on cocaine charges that same year. I know. I said this was complicated. Anyhoo, Turner claimed that he could get the paintings back for a deal out of jail. But ultimately he was unable to make with the goods. To jail he went.

While Turner was counting cockroaches in prison, law enforcement discovered that one of his associates, George Reissfelder, may have been involved with the paintings somehow. Family members claimed to have seen some of the art in Reissfelder’s possession, including the Chez Tortoni hanging on his bedroom wall. Reissfelder died from a cocaine overdose in 1992, but in 2006 Robert Beauchamp, a former cellmate of Reissfelder’s said that he was the one that put the idea of stealing the art in the group’s heads. And after the heist Reissfelder, explained to Beauchamp, in great detail, how the theft went down. In the early 80s Reissfelder was in prison for a crime he didn’t commit. When his conviction was overturned he still visited the pals he made in prison - this is when he relayed the tale to Beauchamp. I know. I said it was complicated!

David Turner was not out of jail for long when he and a few of his cohorts, including the boss Carmello Merlino were busted in an attempt to rob a Loomis Fargo vault in 1999. Once again, Turner was offered a deal if he could make with the art. As was Merlino. Attempts, if only for show, were made but no cigar. No Vermeer. No Rembrandt. Old man Merlino died in prison in 2005. Turner was originally slated for release in 2032. Then suddenly in 2012, without announcement or explanation, that date was knocked down to 2025. It didn’t take an exterminator to smell a rat. Turner was eventually released even earlier in 2019. What did he give the feds? The details have not been fully released but it’s worth noting that it happened around the same time Robert Gentile’s house was being searched by cops who were mighty confident they’d be finding the missing booty. Today.

Turner is a free man. Gentile is a free man. The FBI now claims they have all the evidence (though much of it has not been publicly released) A Lady and Gentleman in Black oil painting by Rembrandt (1633)

they need to point the finger at George Reissfelder and a fellow Merlino thug named Lenny Dimuzzio as the two robbers of the Gardner Museum. Both men are now dead. No art has been found.

So there’s the disappointment I promised. The current reward for the missing art stands at $10 million. Tips continue to come in and investigators have traveled all over the globe chasing possible leads with zero results. Law enforcement believes the pieces are likely now scattered all over the place, snatched up by rich collectors. Dire as that sounds it’s a better scenario than what many fear actually happened. Some low-level grunts stole some priceless art without thinking about how hard it would be to safely sell it and when the heat was on...they tossed it. The likelihood of some Hollywood-imagined art collector keeping them in his super secret underground gallery and admiring them while petting a fluffy cat and swirling a glass of wine is...not really a likelihood at all.

Ironically, the heist has cemented the Gardner Museum as one of the most storied places in the world. The current owners have wisely kept certain things just as they were left after that fateful night in 1990. And to this day, some of the most popular and captivating works currently hanging on the walls of the Gardner Museum, are empty frames. C

La Sortie de Pesage watercolor and pencil by Edgar Degas (late 1800s) Three Mounted Jockeys oil on brown paper by Edgar Degas (late 1800s). French Imperial Eagle finial (late 1800s)

Landscape with Obelisk oil painting by Govaert Flinck (1638)