Page 26 of The Picasso Heist
“It’s actually Lucite,” says Wolfgang. “And the box is an oxidizing accelerator.”
Bergamo knows about fine art, but he’s a novice in the world of fakes and forgeries. The same goes for Nikolov. My only request of Wolfgang prior to the meeting was that he educate them a bit. But not that much. “Talk over their heads for the most part,” I told him. “They’ll nod along.”
Wolfgang steps next to the painting in the Lucite case, which issealed except for two hose attachments in the back that are connected to a device the size of a microwave oven.
“We’re not re-creating some Dutch master from the seventeenth century, so we don’t have to be concerned with carbon dating or even white-lead dating for verification purposes,” says Wolfgang. “And while Picasso was known to paint over his own paintings, there are plenty of works that he did using a fresh canvas. Thankfully, the piece discovered in that old Frenchman’s attic was one of them, so no one will bother x-raying the fake. Still, the attic presents a challenge.”
I’m waiting for Nikolov to engage. He finally does. “How so?” he asks. “What’s the challenge?”
“Craquelure,” says Wolfgang.
“In English,” says Nikolov.
“As a painting ages, it develops random, unique formations known as craquelure. In other words, cracks in the paint. Using computer mapping, these cracks can be measured to establish a digital fingerprint, if you will, of the original artwork. A Picasso, or any painting from only the past century, wouldn’t normally experience significant craquelure, but this particular painting is a little different. Sitting in that attic for so many years, it experienced massive fluctuations in temperature between hot and cold.”
Nikolov nods. “It got old a lot faster, is what you’re saying.”
“Exactly,” says Wolfgang. “So this oxidizing accelerator is an attempt to mimic the craquelure.”
Bergamo steps forward, takes a closer look at the painting. “Anattempt?” he asks.
“Like I said, the pattern is random and unique. There’s no way to duplicate it exactly,” says Wolfgang.
“And it’s the authenticator who does the scan?” asks Bergamo.
“Actually, no. It would be the insurance company on behalf of thebuyer,” says Wolfgang. “They would send a representative to Echelon after the auction to do it before the painting left the premises.”
Bergamo spins on his heel and fixes his worried stare on me. “That’s going to be a problem, isn’t it?”
“No, it’s not,” I answer. “It’ll be fine.”
He’s hardly convinced. “How is it not going to be a problem?”
“Just trust me.”
“Trust you?I have T-shirts older than you.”
“That didn’t stop you from wanting to fuck her,” says Nikolov. “And if you don’t want to trust her, trust me. It’s not going to be a problem. If I thought it was, I wouldn’t be putting up the money.”
“Yeah, but I’m the one putting up the paddle,” says Bergamo. “It’s my neck out there. My name. My reputation.” He’s pacing, working himself into a frenzy. “You know what? Fuck it, play that little recording for my wife, I don’t care. I’d rather her take me to the cleaners than end up in jail. I’m out.”
“You’re not going to jail,” says Nikolov. “And you’re not out. You’re very much in.”
“The hell I am,” says Bergamo.
“The hell you are,” says Blaggy, stepping forward. He’s pointing something, but it’s not a paintbrush. It’s a gun. He’s picked a fine time to join the conversation.
“Whoa!” says Wolfgang. He drops his brush and puts both hands up, full surrender. The gun isn’t even pointed at him.
“Please lower that,” I tell Blaggy. “There’s no reason for—”
“Keep it right where it is,” says Nikolov, cutting me off with a look that saysShut the hell up.He shoots that same look at Bergamo. “This is the first and last time we’re having this conversation. We told you the plan, and you agreed. There’s no changing the plan, and there’s no changing your mind. Do you understand?”
Bergamo’s eyes dart back and forth from Nikolov to the barrel ofBlaggy’s gun. Wolfgang keeps inching farther away, surely thinking this wasn’t part of the bargain. I stand, frozen, waiting for Bergamo to make up his mind.
He’s a proud man. He’s a stubborn man. Question is, is he a stupid man?
No. He’s definitely not. Bergamo fakes a tension-defusing laugh. “This goddamn plan better work,” he says.
