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Inspired by the Boston Art Theft.
Selling the Art from the Boston Robbery

Scott Mahoney

    “Welcome gentlemen, I wasn’t expecting you so early.” In fact, that was a complete lie, the meet time was 3:45 and it was now 3:52. Both men, looking sharp in all black suits - matching ties - and dark tinted sunglasses.
    “Gentlemen, gentlemen, how are we? Can I get you a glass of wine? Robert fetch us some wine please.”
    “Where is it?” the taller man asked.
    “We have the money.” the other said.
    “Now, now, gentlemen, she’s around the corner. You know I’d hate to part with it, but you see I do need the money. Poor whiskers is getting sick and she needs the best healthcare money can buy.”
    “We’re talking about 75 million dollars and you’re going to spend it on a cat?”
    “Not all of it...” I replied.
    “How did you come in to possession of this piece, is it the real thing?” asked the shorter man.
    “Well... you see, my father and an associate of his masterminded a robbery back in the 90’s. It was very clever, you see. Papa disguised himself as a police officer to get in and then his associate handcuffed them and led them to the basement of the Boston Museum. All-in-all Pops’ made off with the Rembrandts’ while his associate looted the Degas. Everything else was sold off over time, the only one left is the Storm of the Sea of Galilee, you came here for today.” I carefully explained.
    “I see, and you can prove it’s real?” The short man asked.
    “Using both, the old iodine test and the state of the art x-ray test. It’s authentic.”
    “Show us.” Insisted the taller man.
    “Right this way.” I rebutted as I turned the corner.
    And there it was, the dark hulls of the galley smothered by the wrath of angry waves. The sails torqued by the wind and reaching for the heavens. The crew on every rope and oar keeping from capsizing. Even the frame which it was held was elegant in my showcase lighting. Every small aspect of it coming together. You could feel the sacrifice of the individual and hear the Gospels of Mark. It was all so serene.
    “I find it such a shame that we can’t share her with the world these days. A true masterpiece should be on display. I am sure you will it give it the love and affection it deserves. I must insist that you allow Robert, my butler, to assist you. He is well versed in the delicacies of transporting such hardware.”
    “I think we can handle it.” Said the smaller man to the taller.
    The taller man nodded in confirmation and walked back around the corner to the living room and grabbed a suitcase he had left on the floor.
    “It’s all here.” Said the tall man as the shorter gentleman carefully lowered the frame from its hooks.
    “Show me.” I said.
    The tall man dialed in the combination and slammed it down causing stacks of hundreds to fall down.
    “The rest are in duffles in the van.”
    “Well you’d better go and get them.” I snarled.
    “Robert! Grab the bags from our van,” shouted the small man.
    For the first time all night Robert replied, “Yes sir, right away,” knowing this time that his presence was needed.
    Moments later Robert returned and dropped two empty bags on the floor. He then withdrew a revolver from his petticoat. “Hands up! This is a robbery!”
    The small man held the Rembrandt as hostages while the tall man and I stood in awe.
    “Hands up! I’ll shoot you all!” Robert cried.
    Robert caustically paced over the Rembrandt, took ahold of it and bolted out the door and into the van. He was gone before the two men could turn and say “You set us up!” The tall man told the small man to stay behind and then he ran out the door and down the road tailing the van. The small man flicked open a butterfly knife and I backed myself into an adjacent bookshelf where I grabbed a 9mm pistols just under waist length on the shelf. I drew and then circled my way around the small man and out the door before running for the fence, leaping over the metal post and running out through a small thicket of woods to meet a white van on the other side.
    “Just like your father.” Robert said.

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