Recently, I had the opportunity to ask David Hosp a few questions regarding his latest book,
Among Thieves. Intriguingly, Ulrich Boser, author of
The Gardner Heist, has
interviewed Hosp as well. Whereas in
The Gardner Heist Boser attempted to track down the thieves, Hosp attempts to describe what life among them (i.e. the thieves) might be like. Essentially, the novel is a thriller involving lawyer Scott Finn (a modern Huckleberry), who is featured in a few other works by Hosp, structured around the Gardner art theft and a hunt for the missing masterpieces. Hosp, who lives and works in the Boston area, has always been intrigued by the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum because of how it "embodies the artistic vision of a single individual." While at times it is formulaic,
Among Thieves does provide one with an imaginative, albeit fictitious account of the night of March 18, 1990 (i.e. the Gardner theft) and an intriguing "what if" scenario. The Q&A is below.
MD: What inspired you to write a novel on art crime?
DH: One of my favorite places in Boston is the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum—a beautiful spot that also happens to be the site of the largest art theft in world history. Twenty years ago, two men dressed as Boston Police Officers stole nearly half a billion dollars worth of art on the night of St. Patrick’s Day. The robbery has never been solved; the paintings have never been found.
In many ways, though, it was not the theft that first inspired me; it was the museum itself. It is the only institution of its kind in that it embodies the artistic vision of a single individual. Isabella Stewart Gardner, one of the wealthiest women of her time, built her museum in the last decade of the nineteenth century. She helped design the building in the style of a Venetian palazzo turned in upon itself, with a monstrous glass roof suspended four stories above an enormous central garden courtyard. She selected and placed every single piece of art—one of the greatest private collections assembled in history—herself, and left the museum to the public upon her death with the proviso that nothing about the museum or the placement of the art ever be altered. As a result, the paintings that were stolen have never been replaced. Empty frames mark the spots where the paintings used to hang. To me, it was a perfect backdrop for a thriller involving my Boston-based characters, and I couldn’t resist.
MD: While writing Among Thieves, what sources did you consult?
DH: For certain aspects of the book, there was very little research I needed to do. For example, there is a scene early in the book where Finn, my protagonist, goes to visit a client in the jail in downtown Boston. Because I have done a great deal of pro bono work in conjunction with the New England Innocence Project, I have been in the jail to visit clients and I have made the very journey I describe.
With respect to the robbery itself, I did an enormous amount of research, starting with secondary sources. There have been a number of non-fiction books written about the robbery, as well as documentaries. I used the FBI’s website, and detailed contemporary (as well as more recent) accounts of police reports and witness interviews. I visited the museum itself repeatedly, mapping out the paths followed by the two robbers, and trying to figure out certain aspects of the timing. I also did a great deal of research on art theft generally—on the IRA’s role in art theft in the 1980s and 90s, and on the history of the FBI’s art theft program and investigators. I had previously researched the Boston mob scene for prior books, and I brushed up on some of that research as well. When I finally felt that I had a good grasp on the subject matter, I talked to a few people who were involved in various ways in the investigation. I made a conscious decision to avoid talking directly to many of the main players and suspects. Ultimately this is a novel—a thriller—and I didn’t want my characters to be bound by preconceptions I had of actual people. I also wanted to avoid any suggestion that my characters were based on real individuals.
MD: Why do you suppose the thieves involved in the Gardner theft stole such an eclectic set of paintings but left behind works by Raphael, Botticelli, and Titian?
DH: It is one of the (many) great mysteries of the theft. A great deal is known about how the robbery went down, and what the thieves did when they were in the museum. In so many ways, it seems like a very well planned, professional job. In other ways, though, it was a complete mess. One of the things that I had fun with in writing Among Thieves was coming up with a plot line and characters that account for the schizophrenic nature of the heist. I won’t give away my theory on the selection of art taken because it would spoil some of the fun of the book for people who want to read it.
MD: Where do you think the paintings are now, and do you think they will be recovered any time soon?
DH: I think the paintings are still somewhere in or around Boston. I suspect the thieves may not have understood the impact the heist would have, and the intensity that the resulting investigation would reach. It’s also likely that the robbers were planning on ransoming back the paintings for insurance money. (It was not publicly known at the time that the Gardner Museum didn’t have insurance.)
I hope they are found, but my greatest worry is that the paintings (particularly Vermeer’s The Concert and Rembrandt’s Storm on the Sea of Galilee) have not been properly cared for. They would have to have been remounted and kept under optimal temperature and humidity to have survived in reasonable condition. Given the way the paintings were treated during the robbery, I am not optimistic that they would be in good shape if found.
MD: Do you think an art heist on the same scale as the Gardner theft could happen today?
I doubt it. Remember, the Gardner theft is the largest single art theft in the history of the world. The works taken have been estimated in value at as much as half a billion dollars. Most collections that come close to that value are very well protected now. That said, the loss from art theft has been valued by Interpol and UNESCO at between $6 and $7 billion dollars annually, which makes the trafficking in stolen art the second largest criminal industry in the world behind only the international drug trade. There are an estimated 22,000 art thefts each year in Italy alone. As a result, the fact that it is unlikely that a single theft on the magnitude of the Gardner robbery will happen again does not mean that the overall toll from art theft has been diminished.
MD: Should museum gallery officers be armed?
DH: I believe that they should be armed and very well trained. One of the appeals of art theft is the minimization of bodily risk and of heavy criminal penalties compared to those associated with other criminal endeavors like dealing in drugs and weapons. If guards are armed, it is far less likely that thieves will target the museum.
MD: If you could steal one painting and get away with it, what would you take and why?
DH: My great-grand-uncle, Ferdinand Hosp, was an accomplished artist. (He was also one of the first reform-minded prison wardens in the U.S. in the early 1900s—very interesting guy.) One of his oils from 1904 (a luminous landscape of a river running through fields near a dilapidated farmhouse) hangs in my parent’s living room. I’d steal that. It’s my favorite painting, and my parents would be unlikely to press charges.
