Berlin, March 2017. Three hooded
men walk down a train station platform, on their way to a spectacular nighttime
heist. Their target: A giant gold coin. They entered
directly via a window. Dresden, 2019. Two men
break into a historic collection of royal jewelry and steal a priceless
hoard of centuries-old artifacts. In both cases we have to assume that the perpetrators were
interested solely in the material value. The task of retrieving
stolen art treasures can involve paying
a substantial ransom. They have the valuables
and we have the money. They want the money,
we want the valuables. Little risk, big reward... Museums are being repeatedly
targeted by thieves who lack a conscience. If I steal something, I don’t feel
ashamed, I don’t even apologise. Dresden in Eastern Germany. In the heart of the city's historic
center lies the Residenzschloss. For almost four centuries, it symbolized the power
and wealth of Saxon royalty. Stefan Koldehoff is a
journalist specializing in art crime — and is familiar with the
precious artifacts stored here in one of Europe's most
renowned collections. This palace was a residence
for electors and kings, including Augustus the Strong.
And it also housed their treasury. So it was a place of both
political and cultural activity, with an incredibly
valuable collection of items. Today, the palace is a museum, its treasures now belonging to
the public rather than a prince. It's one of Germany's
most popular art collections, attracting around
700.000 visitors every year. In November 2019 it hit the
headlines, when the famous Green Vault was the scene of the biggest
art heist in Germany’s history. Evidently the thieves removed three
of these diamond-shaped metal bars in advance, using
a hydraulic cutter — and then temporarily
put them back in place. This was a day or two
before the actual theft. The bars had been
re-attached using just glue, so it was easy to remove
them on the night itself. The palace, including the
Green Vault, is open to the public. While scouting the area beforehand,
the burglars identified a weak spot... The windows on the ground floor. When they returned in the early
hours of November 25th 2019, all they had to do was remove
the previously detached metal grill and break open
the window behind it. Once inside, the thieves had
free reign of the Green Vault and its priceless contents. We're right by the window
where the thieves broke in. Outside is the grill
that they cut apart — giving them direct access
to the treasury chamber. It's believed that two thieves entered
the Green Vault through the window. The treasures there
have been on display ever since Augustus the Strong
opened his collection to visitors in 1724. This is the Hall of Treasures,
which again shows the diverse range of items collected by
the monarchs back then. But the thieves weren't interested
in Nautilus goblets or ostrich eggs. They quickly passed through this
room on their way to the jewelry room. The thieves came prepared. They
knew exactly which route to take, making their way through
the Coat of Arms Room before arriving at their
destination: The Jewelry Room. Working against the clock, they broke
through the display case with an axe. Housed in the Jewelry
Room, are sets of jewels... matching stones commissioned
by Augustus the Strong... now missing quite a few pieces. These display cases contain
priceless pearls and jewelry belonging to Saxon monarchs, which
they collected both for their own prestige and as an investment. And this
is what the thieves were after. Following safety protocol, security guards called
police but did not intervene. In minutes, the thieves smashed
through the display case... and grabbed 22 items... The
burglars disappeared into the night, and with them priceless
pieces of history. Regardless of their value in gold or
diamonds, they can never be recreated. You won't have the same
aura or the same pieces that Augustus the Strong
might have held in his hand. Belt buckles, swords,
brooches and buttons... Donned by kings and adorned
by figures throughout history. Their worth, far greater
than their material value. Marion Ackermann is the director
of Dresden’s state art collections. Her job involves two
distinct responsibilities — both protecting the collection
and presenting it to the public. The ultimate question is: How
far do we go in terms of security? How many more millions
do we need to invest? And of course these are issues that
concern our colleagues everywhere, not just in Germany. The break-in at the Green Vault and
the loss of important historical artifacts weighs heavily on Ackermann. We're confident that
it will be returned to us — or parts of it, at least. Past cases
suggest it might take quite a while. But the main thing
is to keep on hoping. Four thousand, three hundred
diamonds were stolen in the Dresden heist... A high-profile case
involving 3 prosecutors and 40 special investigators. Travemünde, on the Baltic Sea. Here, private investigator Joseph Resch
is taking an unconventional approach to getting the treasures back...
negotiating directly with the thieves. They have the valuables
and we have the money. They want the money,
we want the valuables. Shortly after the robbery
he posted this video online — offering a reward of
over one million euros for the return of
the Dresden jewels. This money is exclusively
for returning the jewels intact — with a guaranteed pay-out. Eventually, the reward
grew to 5 million euros — provided by an
anonymous art collector. This is someone who appreciates
art. It's a hobby of theirs. And they want to see these
valuables back where they belong: In the museum in Dresden. The private investigator says his job
was to find the jewels, not the thieves. Doing business with criminals
is usually frowned upon. Offering 5 million euros
to buy back stolen goods could be seen by
some as unethical. They did what you don't do: A burglary, property damage,
they stole valuable things. And because there were more than
three, it's a gang theft. That's all it is, there's no life sentence or anything.
So I think that's morally defensible. Less than a year after the heist,
his plan seemed to be working. Resch says he was contacted by
the thieves looking to return the jewels. The handovers are pretty
much sorted. I can't say... but given the negotiations and my
own experience: Things are looking up. In November 2020 Resch was confident
the Dresden jewels would soon return... A ransom for
stolen art treasures — in the form of a table
stacked with cash — was a new concept
for Stefan Koldehoff too. A private-sector bid like
that is rare and surprising. Normally the thieves will contact
the aggrieved party about an offer. But someone going public,
literally putting money on the table, is pretty unusual. And that's because of the unique
nature of the Saxon royal treasury. Koldehoff has spent years
writing about art crime. Germany alone sees an average
of four works stolen every day. One factor, he says, is that art is
becoming increasingly expensive — and lucrative. There's never been so
much money on the art market — as gallery owners and
auction-houses will tell you. When banks offer zero interest
and you already have enough villas and yachts and pricey watches, having a
Banksy or a van Gogh or Gerhard Richter on the wall becomes
a status symbol. And that's something
people with enough money are willing to pay
a lot of money for. Eager art investors can be
found at events like Art Basel. The fair brings together
the worlds of art and finance, with wheeling and dealing conducted
over champagne and oysters. This is your
typical Basel crowd. The art here ranges from
classical modern to contemporary — so that attracts young
and old collectors. The week-long Art Basel fair features
paintings, sculptures and photos from around 270 galleries. Among them: This work by influential
American artist Jean-Michel Basquiat. This is priced at
40 million dollars. There have been Basquiats that
cost a lot more money than this, some larger in size — but for
this one, 40 million is set in stone. New-York-born Jean-Michel
Basquiat was the first Black artist to break into the otherwise
white-dominated Western art market. Prices for his works
have risen dramatically since he died at
just 27 in 1988. This is a smaller work that went for
the asking price of 3 million dollars on the first day. Some works are
subject to aggressive competition. When some collectors know a
piece like this will be on show in Basel, they are determined to turn
up right when the fair opens — because the second it's on the wall,
it's on sale. First come, first serve. And those commercial forces
seem to know no bounds. In 2019, global art market
sales topped 57 Billion euros. There are a range of factors behind
the continuous growth in investment: Low interest rates,
a real estate slump and the risky nature
of the stock market. During the initial boom in the 1990s,
it was primarily Japanese buyers snapping up everything
at galleries and auctions. But they all sold after the real
estate bubble burst back home — and after a brief lull,
prices shot up again with the emergence
of new buyer markets. After the fall of communism
you had a lot of very rich Russians in the Yeltsin era
discovering the art market. The opening up of
China also generated a lot of extremely well-funded collectors.
And that new boom never really ended. A boom that does not attract only
legitimate collectors and investors. As elsewhere: Where there's money
to be made, there’s criminal activity. Amelie Ebbinghaus works for
the world's largest private database of looted art and antiques. Her job is to track down and
recover works that have been stolen. I can't provide
specific figures, but there must be two to five
thousand works on show here. And the chances of
there being nothing here deserving a closer
look are extremely slim. Ebbinghaus is an art historian
specializing in the origin of art works and other cultural assets. A large number of stolen works
do end up back on the art market. At art fairs we often
encounter classic theft, where most exhibitors genuinely
believe they have a legitimate work — until we say: Sorry, but this
was stolen 10 or 15 years ago. And that happens
with both old paintings and works from the 1960s or 80s. Ebbinghaus and her colleagues at Art
Loss Register scour all the major fairs for stolen merchandise —
and make regular catches. Any paintings, sculptures and
photos up for sale at such events first have to their origin
and history verified. I've had cases of people
screaming at me for half an hour because we've found
something. It can be awkward, but ultimately the fair organizers
say they don't want anything that shouldn't be on sale
here for legal or ethical reasons. And exhibitors have to comply. Every year, Art Loss Register
solves around 200 cases of stolen art. Art thieves often
face a major problem. While their haul is extremely
valuable, it is often unsellable. So why do criminals continue
to target museums and galleries? Unfortunately the immediate
reason is utterly banal and at the same time shocking:
Just because they can do it! Criminals can tell how poor the
security is at public collections. A lot of them only think later
about what to do with their haul and then wonder how they’re
going to be able to get rid of it. So they have to approach
the owner demanding a ransom — what’s called art-napping. And that’s exactly what happened
at an internationally renowned Frankfurt gallery in 1994. The Schirn Kunsthalle
enjoys frequent collaborations with the likes of the Pompidou Centre
and New York’s Museum of Modern Art. At the time, it was featuring two
works by English painter William Turner: Shade and Darkness
and Light and Colours. The thieves locked
themselves inside. The Schirn had decided not
to have surveillance cameras for financial reasons,
believing it could ensure security using other options. With the building deserted, they
overpowered the guards and tied them up. After removing the art from
the wall, they fled via a side exit in the direction of the cathedral
— before driving off in a van. After eventually being
able to free themselves, the guards triggered the alarm
— and then you had, as always, police investigators at the crime scene
wondering who could be responsible. News of the theft was met
with shock in Germany, Britain and across the
international art scene, as images of the empty
walls were published. Frankfurt police launched
a criminal investigation. Over in London, the
disappearance of the two Turners left the British
art world stunned. They'd been on loan
from the city's Tate Gallery, one of the world’s major
collections of modern and British art. At the time, Sandy Nairne was
the Tate’s Director of Programs. The 29th of July 1994, that
date is always in my mind. And it was Nicolas Serrota, the
director of the Tate. And he said: We have this terrible
news from Frankfurt. I realized I was only just awake
and it was very early in the morning, and it was very hard to
take in what he was saying but he explained the
news that had come: That these two paintings had been
stolen from the Schirn Kunsthalle. Three years later, two
members of the Yugoslav mafia were convicted for the Schirn break-in,
each sentenced to several years in jail. The paintings themselves,
however, remained at large. The works in question
are beloved in Britain. Their English creator,
Joseph Mallord William Turner is considered his country’s
foremost painter of the Romantic era. His style of depicting the
elements of fire, water and light — is still today,
considered revolutionary. It is quite difficult to say how
important J. M. W. Turner is to the idea of British painting. He is a kind of way of thinking of
British painting becoming something. I mean there were artists before
Turner, but really he changes the whole of British art and at the end
of his life he himself decided to make a collection of particular
paintings to give it to the nation. Nairne and his colleagues
from the Tate did all they could to track down the two works. He made repeated trips to
Germany to talk to authorities, while also holding press conferences
on the paintings' possible whereabouts. 5 years after the theft, an
attorney who had contacts within the Frankfurt criminal
community reached out. He said I have
important information. I have information from people
who know where the paintings are. So of course we were
very suspicious, we said: How do you have information,
what is this information? We’d had many many false leads. One of the things that
emerged was a sense that criminality leads
to more criminality. The Tate Gallery resorted to
negotiating with the criminals. It took until the year 2000
and two and a half million euros for the deal to proceed. Nairne flew to Frankfurt, and
took art expert Roy Perry with him. We had to know that it was the painting.
I mean what if it had been a copy? What if it had been a fake
that had been brought back? So it was crucial that I could say to
Roy Perry, you must examine this first. He had the right records,
he had the right photographs. But he looked at it, and we
all waited. And then he said: It’s like meeting an old friend.
And he knew, that was the Turner. In total, the Tate spent around 4
million euros to recover the paintings. But the strategy of doing business
with criminals would prove problematic. When an art-napping job like this
works, where you don’t actually get caught and collect a lot of
money via middlemen, then of course that’s an incentive
for other thieves to do it too. It was a story in the media not
just in Germany but worldwide — including when the
pictures resurfaced. The Tate was pretty open
about having paid money, although there was never
any mention of a ransom. They just said it was for
information leading to the recovery — so more a reward
than a ransom. In terms of museum security,
every successful case is a disaster. For the Tate Gallery
it was a total success, because they got
their paintings back. London, the British capital and
the center of the country’s art world. Accounting for around 15
percent of global turnover, the British art market is ranked
third after China and the US. London is also the headquarters
for Amelia Ebbinghaus and the Art Loss Register. The database
for stolen antiques and works of art. In its quest to find missing art
and return it to its rightful owners, the company works with
art dealers, insurance firms and international
police investigators. This is a work we’ve
had here for years that has still to be
returned to its owner. It was a theft we worked
with the Dutch police on. They took care of the
perpetrator side — who stole it — while we’re involved in the object
itself and who it needs to go back to. The painting was stolen in
the Netherlands years ago. It too, has been documented
in the Art Loss Register. A record of missing art
from all around the world, more than 30
years in the making. Including works that were plundered
during war and the colonial era. The database now has around 700.000 items that we're looking for on
practically a daily basis. And we get new items every day. Right now, during the COVID pandemic,
there's not so much art being stolen — but clocks and jewelry: Yes. We currently add between
five and 50 objects a day. The stolen jewels from
the Green Vault in Dresden are also registered
in the database — with each individual element
accompanied by a photo and a detailed description. The precious items
have yet to resurface — although Ebbinghaus is
confident it will happen some day. Some objects hit the
market incredibly quickly — which means being
taken across a border or two via Germany or Switzerland
and being immediately sold. Or they stay put
for a really long time, and don't appear on the
market until maybe 30 years later. Art lovers around the
world hope the items stolen from the Dresden royal
palace will eventually turn up — perhaps with the help
of the Art Loss Register. But years after the heist,
the jewels are still missing. The hope is they haven’t been
broken apart and sold off piece by piece. Dresden police along with
private interested parties set up a special
commission to find the jewels. From past experience, sometimes
the state investigators are successful, sometimes the private parties. What matters for me is that
they communicate with each other. They need to work as one, instead
of giving the perpetrators the feeling that they can just settle
financially with the private side, and need not worry
about committing a crime. Dresden, September, 2021. The display case in the Green
Vault has long been repaired, but the loss is
still keenly felt. There are gaping holes in the
exhibit where the jewels once were. Private investigator Joseph
Resch had offered 5-million euros to buy back the stolen
jewels. Before long, he received an anonymous phone call
from someone claiming to have them. The first meeting was in
Hamburg. I won't say how. And the second one was
here in Bad Schwartau, where I was approached
in the car park. So began the most difficult
part: Negotiating the handover. Evidently Josef Resch was himself
being watched by the criminals. The man told him to come to
another location a few hours later — in a remote wooded area. You can't say: Can I
see some ID?! No way! I deliberately parked
my car in a way that ensured they can
see I'm on my own... I took my jacket off to show I
didn't have a phone or a wire. You have to be completely open. The meeting, which
took place in 2020, focused on how the
exchange would happen. Resch asked up front for proof
that they actually had the jewels. The conversation ended up
lasting less than half an hour — and then he showed it to me. The man had a photo
of one of the pieces with a current edition of
a well-known magazine. In front of the magazine you could
see his hand... holding these jewels. It was one photo. He was showing that he had the jewels,
and the date was from August 2020. The private investigator was
satisfied that the middleman did indeed have access to the
Green Vault jewels. The man would return them
— and collect 5 million euros. Resch then had to wait to be
contacted again by the criminals with details on the exchange.
But events then took a different turn. November, 2020. A year
on from the Dresden heist, Berlin police carried out one of the
biggest series of coordinated raids in the country's history. The operation
involved over 1,600 police officers searching 18 properties, and
arresting a number of suspects, members of a
notorious crime family. But while the authorities
celebrated the arrests, there was still no sign
of the jewels themselves. The man who had been
contacting Josef Resch went silent. And Resch decided to change his
strategy... and turn up the pressure. The five-million-euro
ransom was now up for grabs for anyone providing
information leading to the jewels. The 5 million could be collected by
any person who had a solid tip-off... one that led to a
successful outcome. But there was no response
either from the thieves or anyone with
insider knowledge. The priceless Dresden
jewelry was still missing. The Bodemuseum in Berlin — part of a group of galleries known as
Museum Island, a World heritage site. It houses a diverse collection
of sculptures, medals... and coins. It really is a
phenomenal collection. The idea for displaying everything in
one place came from Wilhelm von Bode, who was one of the first
directors of the Berlin museums. And because the Kaiser and the
state museums had a long history of collecting coins, it includes a lot of
precious items made of gold as well. In 2010 the Bodemuseum welcomed
a very special addition to its collection - a Big Maple Leaf, the
largest coin in the world, weighing in at 100 kilos of pure
gold, worth more than 4 million euros. On loan from a private
owner in Düsseldorf, the huge coin quickly became
a major visitor attraction. A prestige item for
the Bodemuseum — unrivalled, with just seven
of them in the entire world. Far too expensive for a
public museum to actually buy, so they must've been
delighted to get it as a loan. The Big Maple Leaf spent seven
years on display at the Bodemuseum. Its sheer size and financial value
gave the coin an irresistible appeal — and not just for art lovers... At 3 a.m. three young men came up
the stairs at the Hackescher Markt station just over there. And with no
trains running at that time of night, there was no risk in
dropping down onto the tracks. And from there, it was just a couple
of minutes' walk to the Bodemuseum. This is footage from the train
station's security cameras, which shows three men
walking down the platform — clearly intent on
keeping their faces hidden. And from there they went
across the railway bridge right in between the Bodemuseum
and the Pergamon-Museum. And after putting up a ladder,
they were able to enter via a window that had no alarm, no security,
and wasn't covered by a camera. The key to entry was
the remains of a bridge that used to connect
the two museums — a protrusion the thieves
made the most of with a ladder. The window had no security
alarm. And behind it: A staff room. The thieves made their way about a
hundred meters through the building — before reaching their goal: The
biggest gold coin on the planet. The display case wasn't
hard to break open. They threw everything out the window,
thinking it'd all be melted down anyway. They then took the same way
back via that bridge to this park — and then made
their getaway in a car. A classic heist — but how could
petty thieves seize the biggest and most valuable
coin on the planet? German museums have then, as
now a pretty pathetic security setup — whether it's the Bodemuseum
or the Green Vault in Dresden. The investment in deterrent
measures is shockingly low. There was another case
with the Museum Island where someone
sprayed oil on exhibits, and there were just a handful of
cameras. So hardly state of the art. Security failures that have one
particular man shaking his head: Boris Fuchsmann. The
75-year-old Düsseldorf art collector is the rightful owner of
the now famous gold coin. It's something you grow to love and is
part of the family. A proud possession. A part of my heart is missing, as
we say. A major item in my collection. Fuchsmann is the son of
an art and antiques dealer. He developed a special
relationship to art at an early age. Today he possesses a collection
that he's reluctant to show on camera for security reasons. Fuchsmann bought the coin for around
3 and a half million euros back in 2010. Not long after, he was
contacted by the Bodemuseum. The curators were preparing
an exhibition called Gold Giants — and hoped to have his
Maple Leaf as the highlight. I didn't hesitate
long. I thought: Yes, I'd love for people
to be able to see the coin. Such a rare object needs to
be on display for the public. His emotional pain is
accompanied by financial loss. A Berlin court ruled that security
lapses meant his insurance only had to pay half the official
value. Missing since 2017, the coin is something he
doesn't expect to ever see again. No... I don’t think
so. It’s unlikely. Only in my dreams,
or on TV — unfortunately. Berlin police have dedicated a
division of the force to art theft — headed by René Allonge. His office could be
mistaken for a gallery — except all the works on
display here are forgeries. Allonge also worked on the stolen
gold coin case. DNA found at the crime led investigators to a
Berlin-based crime family. We first had to take a
close look at this family to work out the
internal connections, who were the big figures
and what the DNA told us. That was the basis for our inquiries,
and then we had a whole range of jobs — stakeouts, surveillance,
and preparing raids. In February 2020 a Berlin
court sentenced cousins Wissam and Ahmed Remmo
to 4 and a half years in jail. The two men refused to comment
on the whereabouts of the coin, which was likely melted down. It’s not just thieves trying to
cash in on the booming art market. The evidence room at
Berlin police headquarters is brimming with
seized forgeries... including the work of master
forger Wolfgang Beltracchi. Allonge has learned
how to spot a fake. If you hold it up to the
light, you can see a point where the canvas is really
thin due to rubbing off, which is very
atypical for the artist. He worked on completely
different materials, and the rubbed-away
canvas always tells us that someone wants us
to think it's an old canvas. Allonge is one of the
world's leading art detectives — and has come to understand
why art is now such hot property. Art is an interesting medium that
you can make a lot of money with. Art also attracts speculators, which
is why there are so many fraud cases. But for most perpetrators,
there's also this special attraction — the challenge of stealing a world-famous
work of art with high security. That's an incentive. In most cases, it's about stealing the
object and then turning it into money. Amsterdam. Not only the Dutch capital but also
one of Europe's leading cultural centers. A city famed for its
rich artistic heritage. People flock to visit
the galleries here — most, because they
want to see the art, but others because
they want to steal it. If I steal something, I don’t feel
ashamed, I don’t even apologize. Everybody I was within
my neighbourhood stole. They stole car radios,
bikes, they did burglaries. There is nobody in my neighbourhood
who said: Hey, what are you doing?! Octave Durham talks frankly
about his previous life as an art thief. He gained notoriety after successfully breaking into
the city's Van Gogh Museum in 2002. I was walking, passed the museum
and I looked to the right and I saw: Hey, what’s that on the roof? That
is why I did it. It was the opportunity. A window on the roof... the seasoned
burglar had identified a weak spot. He then returned with
an accomplice at night, and left with two works
by Vincent Van Gogh. The daring break-in was
headline news in the Netherlands. It’s something you have to
understand, you have to be in it. It's a culture or something. I know
it exists, but I don't have the feeling. Duhrman initially kept the
stolen Van Goghs hidden. The paintings were
worth several million euros, but were unsellable
on the legal art market. Once media coverage
of the theft had died down, he found a buyer —
an Italian mafia boss. I said to my friend at that
time you go and find somebody and he found that Italian guy. And
he bought it. That’s what happened. In 2016 the Italian police
raided a cocaine-trafficking clan of the Naples-based Camorra
mafia. While searching the properties, they discovered a hidden bunker...
And inside it, the two missing Van Goghs. 14 years after the break-in, the
pieces were returned to their home — the Van Gogh
museum in Amsterdam. Senior manager Marije Vellekoop had
feared they'd never see the works again. Yes, that was a wonderful news
in the summer in September, 2016. There was a phone call of the director:
They’re found, they found the paintings. They were in Italy, that was the
rumour. But it was actually true. The story of the stolen
paintings had a happy ending — but it’s very
much the exception. Some works of art disappear
for far longer on the black market, some forever — although in many
cases the thieves are apprehended. In 2004 Octave Durham was
himself eventually convicted, and spent three years in jail. But his time behind bars does
not seem to have reformed him. You have a born teacher, born
soccer player, born policeman, you have a born burglar, I
am a born burglar, a born thief. I don't know, I don't understand.
If they ask me: How does it come? My father asked me: Why do you
steal? I said: I don't know I just do it. But how come? I cannot explain. If I make money — what
I'm supposed to be doing — by lectures, doing books,
I won't ever steal again. But if I start to get hungry... Little risk, big reward — a
combination that makes art theft an increasingly lucrative
prospect for criminals... and will continue to do so,
fears journalist Stefan Koldehoff. A Gerhard Richter for 50
million or a Leonardo for 300 will always make the headlines
— and will continue to do so. And that continues to give
criminals a reason to think about getting a share of these
incredibly high prices. The only answer is to improve security.
Having cameras flashing on and off instead of being hidden
will put thieves off. Museums need to give
this some serious thought and urgently need to
invest in the right technology. And that means everywhere. Public museums around the
world deserve better protection - to prevent them from
falling prey to criminals... and seeing their
treasures disappear.
