Editor’s Note
This article examines the complex reality of fencing stolen high-value artifacts, challenging the common assumption that such items are easily liquidated for cash.
Like the rest of the world, jewelry historian Marion Fasel was shocked at the brazen, daytime theft of priceless French crown jewels from the Louvre in Paris on the morning of October 19. But she was equally dismayed by what she saw as the immediate flood of baseless speculation or certainty that the thieves would undoubtedly break up the jewels or melt down the metal in hopes of monetizing their crime.
The jewels—from Empress Eugénie’s pearl tiara to Marie-Louise’s sapphire diadem—boast storied royal histories on top of impeccable stones and meticulous craftsmanship. Many were carefully bought back over the past decade by the Friends of the Louvre association after being sold off post-French Revolution. To break them up was unthinkable to Fasel.
So what might become of the jewels taken from the Louvre? Is there a black market for such high-profile world-class royal jewels? Is there hope of ever recovering them? The answers are complicated and often surprising.
Ronnie Walker, a former special agent with the FBI’s Art Crime Team for two decades, also studied at the Gemological Institute of America. For years, he tracked a gang that was hitting jewelry stores from coast to coast in the U.S., carrying out more than two dozen robberies in the course of several years. Their M.O. was to break up and sell the jewels in order to profit from their crimes.
The difference here? “In this case, these are all historical-cut gems,” he said. “There’s nothing modern about these, so if [criminals] wanted to go down that path, they’re going to have to find a diamond-cutter who is highly skilled, who can take these gemstones and transform them from historical cuts to modern cuts.”
In the case of one near-perfect diamond taken by the roving gang he investigated earlier, he said, “It was impossible to sell the diamond as they stole it. They needed to polish it in such a way that actually took it out of symmetry but doing so allowed them to obfuscate its origin.”
Beyond the gemstones, Fasel noted that Empress Eugénie’s tiara is set with natural pearls which are extraordinarily rare and expensive on the market. “This is before cultured pearls existed,” she said.
Sadly, even as she pointed out the difficulty of re-cutting or unloading the gems for money, Fasel noted the likely possibility that this targeted heist was carried out at the request of some shadowy trophy hunter. “Everyone knows the Regent diamond, but they didn’t take it. To me, that says it was a shopping list. They were going after jewelry. They didn’t just take gems.”
“They really need to offer a reward, which is really important for information,” said Anthony Amore, director of security at the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston, which was the subject of a major armed robbery in 1990 that remains unsolved. “Everybody in France is talking about this and I would think there are informants that can help.”
In dealing with past art thefts, Christopher Marinello, CEO and founder of Art Recovery International, and one of the world’s top experts on art theft, said in some cases: “Thieves would contact me and say, ‘We didn’t steal it, but we know where it is. Is there a reward? A friend of mine will give it back… but he wants $20 million.’”
For now, France has about 100 officers from the Brigade de Répression du Banditisme and more from the OCBC, the investigative service of the Direction Centrale de la Police Judiciaire, focused on the case. They have also hired CGI, an Israeli private investigative firm that helped solve the Green Vault theft in Dresden, Germany, in 2019.
