"The stolen painting by Rembrandt Van Rijn... newly discovered only last week... continues to elude police." "A massive manhunt has been mounted... for the murderer of noted Japanese art collector Tumado Agachi." "Police have issued warnings to be on the lookout... for an American, Harry Donovan... believed to be the chief suspect in the case." "According to Chief Inspector Deeks... of the Metropolitan police..." "Mr. Donovan is said to have seized the painting... in an argument with Mr. Agachi... who was then shot and killed... as Mr. Donovan escaped with the priceless work of art." "Highland, mid twentieth century... permanent collection, Kunsthaus, Munich." "Study of Aileen, mid 19th century... permanent collection, Cambridge Institute of Fine Arts." "The Flowered Mine, privately owned... on permanent loan to the Bergen National Gallery." "Boulevard of Peasants, late 19th century... and, uh, The Ice Cream Man." "Yes, yes, that's great." "Thank you, John." "I think we've seen enough." "So, every single one of these copies... were done by the same man." "No." "Excuse me." "They're not copies." "They're all quite original... but they are all fakes." "Ah, remarkable." "And all painted by the same man." "Harry Donovan." "Why haven't we heard of him before?" "Because he's clever." "He doesn't do big names like Leonardo or Van Gogh." "It's always third- or fourth-tier names... that don't attract attention." "He flies under the radar." "Well, he's amazing." "Well, you asked for the best... and he's considered to be the best in the world." "Which leaves just one final question." "Where do we find him?" "Well, you've made it." "And you promise to buy some paintings, ok?" "Hey, Troy, nice to see you." "You're looking well." "You're looking great." "Harry, what are you doing here?" "I got something for you." "You're kidding." "Why would I kid you?" "No, no, I mean it's marvelous." "Look, uh, I've got a gallery full of people." "Is there any way we can do this tomorrow?" "No." "I'm busy tomorrow." "You want this or not?" "Yeah, ok." "It's beautiful." "Exquisite." "Yeah." "You know, Harry, your fakes are always better, aren't they?" "Maybe that's part of your problem." "No." "Part of my problem is I like my money." "Here." "Maybe you want to count it." "No." "I trust you." "Hey, could you do another one for me?" "Harry?" "No." "Why?" "'Cause I'm doing my own stuff... and because you lied." "What?" "You lied." "We said 3,500." "No, you said 3,500." "I said 4,000... and since I know you're gonna turn it for 90..." "Hey, look, uh, wait." "Wait." "Ok, here." "Ok?" "If you have anything else, call me, ok?" "Hey, Picasso, where's my rent?" "Oh, live it up, Trump." "Is that it?" "Yeah." "You're late." "Yeah, yeah, yeah." "I'm gonna have to bill you... for the hour I've been waiting." "I'll give you 50 for the wait." "Are you ready?" "Oh, forget it." "What?" "I'm finished." "We haven't even started." "Do you want to work later?" "Please leave." "Harry Donovan, I presume." "We deal primarily in 20th century artists." "Now, one of our clients... a private collector from Korea..." "Hey." "Not very polite." "From Korea... recently made a number of purchases from us." "They were minor works by modern masters." "So what?" "So my client's retained me... to find an important work by an old master." "Well, is there any other kind?" "As you can imagine, there's very little available to buy." "Most old masters are locked away... in the permanent collections of a few museums." "Well, you got a big problem there." "Good luck to you... and good-bye." "We're here because we want the best... and we're prepared to pay for it." "$50,000, U.S." "You speak English?" "Against 500,000 on delivery." "$500,000 for what?" "Mr. Donovan..." "I want you to paint me a Rembrandt." "But only Rembrandt can paint Rembrandt." "Yes, well, under the circumstances... can you help me?" "No." "Why not?" "Because with modern testing it's almost impossible." "That and..." "Hey!" "I'm not a shoemaker." "I don't deal with slobs off the street." "I work with people that I know." "You can leave now." "It's a circular problem." "Now do I have to knock your ass down the stairs?" "No, no." "Gentlemen." "Um, we'll be staying at the Carlyle until Sunday." "Think it over." "Watch your fingers." "Never heard of them." "It's an Alistair Davies, an Iain Ill." "La Salle Gallery." "They're big art dealers." "You're in some pretty fancy company." "Well, they want me for a job." "Rembrandt." "Rembrandt, huh?" "I'm moving up in the world." "Well, that's a matter of opinion." "You think I shouldn't do it?" "It's not a question of shouldn't." "The question is that you promised me... you were gonna get rid of this forgery shit." "That's the point." "Yeah, well, these guys are real art lovers... and 500,000 is a nice round number, so I..." "Can I ask you a question?" "What about your own show?" "Remember that?" ""My own show."" "What the hell do you want?" "I'd like to see an original Harry Donovan... hanging in the Prado one day." "Oh, shit." "Not in your lifetime." "I can sit down, for Christ sakes." "I'm not a child." "Ah, now... the Prado, in my opinion... is maybe... the greatest art gallery in the world." "All the world goes to Madrid to see the Prado... and the only way you're gonna hang in that place... is if you're dead." "I mean, Rembrandt even had to be dead." "Well, then I'll have to settle for 5 days... on the beach in Puerto Rico." "What would you do with a half a million dollars, Dad?" "That's not the point." "You don't think I can do it." "No, no." "That's not the point." "$500,000 is the point." "No it isn't!" "I'll tell you what the point is!" "Maybe It's my fault." "Maybe I should have told you sooner." "All right, what I'm trying to say is..." "I don't know." "The point is that Harry Donovan should have gone to Italy... and he should have looked at da Vinci." "He should have looked at Lippi." "He should have looked at Caravaggio." "He should have looked at sculpture of Donatello." "He should have seen them." "He should have done something, right?" "You know why you don't?" "You don't have eyes." "Well, what's going on here, Dad?" "Why are you beating me up?" "I'm not beating you up." "I'm just trying to say that even Rembrandt had to study." "Rembrandt never laid a foot in Italy." "Bullshit." "If there was an exhibition of one of the greats... within 100 miles of Amsterdam..." "Rembrandt was there." "Well, I'm not Rembrandt, Dad." "You're not even Harry Donovan." "Then you show me." "What?" "I said, you teach me." "Why don't you take me to Italy?" "You show me all that stuff." "Christ, you're a better painter than I am." "Oh, not anymore." "I get a car, we drive all around Italy." "We'll go to Venice, we'll go to Florence, we'll go to Rome." "Then Caravaggio, Michelangelo, Raphael, all of 'em." "And we'll stay in fancy fucking hotels... those paupers could never afford." "And that's how we do it." "And we can do that now." "Dad." "Dad." "Dad." "I'm fine." "I'm fine." "Here's the number of my account in Zurich." "When the first 50,000 clears, that's when I start." "Is there anything else I can do for you, Harry?" "Not unless you know a Rembrandt that's getting restored... anywhere in the world." "One might imagine that that would be your job." "I didn't think so." "From now on, don't call me." "I'll call you." "The age of romanticism... raised you to cult status." "The greatest genius ever to put brush to canvas, they called you." "But by the age of reason, they considered you an outcast... your promise unfulfilled." "Chiaroscuro." "Light from the dark." "Delacroix said you were greater than Raphael." "Renoir said, " I sniff the gravy." "He chews the meat."" "And another Dutch painter who had died penniless... said you left him staggering." "Vincent said you must have died several times to paint like that." "A case like this, there's only one way to move." "Not to make up something new... but to discover something... the experts are already expecting someday to discover." "Something recorded but lost." "His most moving paintings were self portraits." "Like an autobiography, they tell a wordless story... a story of genius and sorrow." "Now, one of Rembrandt's most famous sketches... is of an old man who appears to be blind." "It's been speculated he did it in preparation for a full oil portrait... and that portrait has never been found." "It may not even exist... but according to the inventory at his bankruptcy..." "Rembrandt sent 2 canvases to Spain by sea." "It's recorded only as a portrait of a man." "No name." "We know the dimensions were 92 by 71 centimeters." "We know the price was 800 Dutch florins... but the picture disappeared." "Maybe lost at sea, maybe stolen." "No one knows." "The trail goes cold... and it's been cold now for 350 years." "Disappeared, how?" "Nobody knows." "Lost at sea, burned... stolen by Napoleon's generals." "Nobody knows." "That's where the trail stops." "The trail stops where?" "Somewhere off the northern coast of Spain." "The only record we have is by Van Oilenberg... who was the leading Dutch expert at the time." "He saw the painting before it left Holland." "Described it as the most moving portrait he had ever seen." "It's a blind man believed to have been Rembrandt's father." "The irony being stunning... the master of light, son of a man who couldn't see." "So, I'm going to discover Rembrandt's greatest portrait." "And I'm gonna paint it." "Excusez-moi." "I am sorry." "Someone pushed me, and I..." "It's ok." "Forget it." "Forget it." "I needed some coffee." "I was falling asleep." "Well, I'll get you one." " No, no, no." " Please." "Please, are you sure?" "Ok, yeah, yeah, yeah." "Oh, are you an artist?" "Uh, no, I'm a student." "Ah, me, too." "How do you like the book?" "I don't like books." "Just look at the pictures?" "Yeah, ever since I was a little boy." "Should I tell you something funny about that book?" "Well, there's nothing funny about a 900-page book." "Quoi?" "Any author that needs 900 pages to get to their point... shouldn't be allowed near a typewriter." "Well, then maybe you shouldn't read it." "Yeah, well, I have to." "I..." "Homework." "Well, study hard." "Thanks for that coffee." "Perfect." "Excuse me." "Oui, monsieur." "You speak English?" " Yes, I do." " This painting." "It was removed this morning." "Why?" "Restoration." "Where is that?" "On the mezzanine." "Yeah, uh, Tringham, see." "Yeah, I have to meet some people in there." "I didn't really..." "No, it's impossible." "No, no, no." "They said that it was gonna be here." "No, no, no." "They said it was gonna be..." "Is there someone else here I can talk to?" "The supervisor." "No, she's not here." "Well, look, I've come all the way from America..." "You must go..." "Bonjour, madame." "Hey, excuse me." "Hi, hi." "Monsieur, monsieur, monsieur." "Uh, the cafe, right?" "Remember me from the cafe?" "Do me a favor." "I got to get into this room... to see a painting that's being restored." "I'm having a little trouble with my credentials." "Oh, come with me." "I'll take you." "Thank you." "You're welcome." "She said you were a professor." "Harry." "Marieke." "You on the staff here, Marieke?" "No, no, a student." "And you?" "I'm working on a book." "I thought you don't like books." "I hate my work." "What's your book about?" "Dutch masters." "What aspect?" "Portraits." "Has it been retouched?" "No, no, it's still untouched." "What do you feel?" "About what?" "The painting." "It's not bad." "Not bad?" "Come on, professor." "Cou can do better than that." "What do you feel?" "What I feel?" "Um, it's one of the last great paintings... by one of the last great painters." "Sold for 80 bucks... while he died broke, in debt, alone... unrecognized, unable to even buy one of his own paintings." "That's what I feel." "What do you feel?" "Marieke." "Excuse me." "Harry." "Harry." "Yeah." "Come and have a drink with us." "Oh, no." "I got..." "I..." "Come on." "Uh, you know what Fromentin said to a class once?" "He said that Rembrandt doesn't have anything... like the attraction of a Van Dyck... uh, Francia, or even a Reubens." "You're right." "At first sight, his work can be very displeasing." "I remember just before he died, Fromentin... you know what he said?" "He said that Rembrandt has all the subtlety of a dull guillotine." "Don't you agree, professor?" "Actually, I always thought that Fromentin didn't know... what the fuck he was talking about." "I beg your pardon?" "I just don't understand why you guys have to sit here... and piss on other people, let alone Rembrandt." "Professor Scheerding proved that the painting..." "The Man With the Golden Helmet... is just a cheap fake." "I'm sure you know that in 1930... there were over 800 supposed Rembrandts." "And now we're down to 241... thanks to you and your friends... and dropping... so bully for you." "Every school kid's favorite picture is now junk... 'cause some self-important windbag has said so." "The problem is... in 10 years' time, there's not gonna be any Rembrandts... just a big pile of theses." "We have said something to offend you?" "Me?" "I'm never offended by flatulence." "I just move away from its smell." "Bye." "Excusez-moi." "An American asshole." "Bien." "It must feel good to get rid of all that." "All that what?" "Anger." "I'm not angry." "Oh, just something out of your childhood?" "No, just some fun." "A rather sad way to have fun." "Now, is this why you followed me all the way out here... to tell me about my sad childhood?" "No, but I wonder why you act like one." "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." "I'm sure you have better things to do with your time." "Such as?" "Listen, it's not d..." "Now I'm hungry." "Want to get something to eat?" "Oh, merde." "I forgot my keys again." "We might not get in my room if he doesn't wake up." "Oh, oh!" "Oh!" "Ahh." "Hey." "Where you going?" "I have to go." "I'm so late." "Are you married or something?" "Married?" "No." "No, but I have to be in Venice, like, this afternoon." "I hope you realize this is not my nightly routine." "I think maybe you're teasing." "No, I'm not." "You, uh, want to have some dinner?" "I..." "I can't." "Ok." "Bye." "I have to rush." "You just leave the key at the desk." "It's beautiful, isn't it?" "Actually..." "it's terrible." "But I love this frame." "Yeah, yeah, I'm coming." "Harry Donovan." "I can have some of these resins for you by tomorrow." "Burnt Sienna, it's no problem." "But Tamarack..." "I need them all by Friday." "Friday?" "I also need a complete chemical breakdown of these varnishes." "Ok." "Anything else?" "I need 20 grams of lead weight." "Lead weight?" "And it has to be over 160 years old." "So the radioactive half life is down to zero." "Can you get it for me?" "You know, this will raise a lot of eyebrows." "Half now... half on delivery." "Red legs, leaden yellow, black... you have here vermilion." "Pure vermilion." "No extenders." "No one uses it." "Very difficult." "For this azurite pigment... cobalt blue is ok?" "No, no, no." "No cobalt blue, no blue manganese." "Azurite." "Azurite?" "Very, very old stuff." "It was cheap 300 years ago, but today..." "How much?" "50 grams for..." "600 marks." "Done." "You should be able to extract 20 grams from this." "I need genuine badger hair brushes." "2 dozen, in this size." "Ox hair, squirrel hair... and a half a dozen of these red sable." "Well, where are you?" "Amsterdam." "Oh." "How is it?" "Expensive." "I was in Amsterdam, I think it was, uh..." "It was 1951, and I remember the guilder was 4.8 to the dollar." "I'm getting 1.7." "Hey, you're lucky you're getting something... besides cheese from the Dutch, you know that?" "Yeah." "How's it going?" "Good, yeah." "Painting away." "You being straight with me?" "Yeah." "Miss you, Dad." "You what?" "Miss you, Dad." "Yeah, well, you know, I'm..." "I'm..." "I'm, uh..." "I'm sorry." "Sorry for what?" "N..." "Nothing." "I'm a little tired." "I tell you what... you know, these things cost a lot of money, these phone calls... so why don't we just..." "kind of break them up, you know?" "Give me a call in the next couple of days, ok?" "Yeah." "Yeah, all right." "I'll see you." "Good-bye." "Harry?" "So 350 years later... we pick up the trail of Rembrandt's lost masterpiece." "Now, the boat sailed from Rotterdam to San Sebastian, Spain... so we're within a 40-mile radius... of where the trail might have gone cold." "Do you have a local farmer?" "Taken care of." "So let's see what he's gonna find in his cellar, shall we?" "Ha ha." "Hmm." "It's been baked at 225 degrees 3 times." "Rembrandt usually did 3 versions of the same painting... one on top of the other." "That'll show up on the x-rays... which is exactly what they expect to find... exactly what they're dying to find." "It's incredible." "It's marvelous." "It's stunning." "It's payday." "I love the little rip, Harry." "Great touch." "You've thought of everything except one thing." "His signature?" "Exactly." "I thought of it." "I thought better of it." "Oh, and why was that?" "Because it's too obvious." "Rembrandt didn't even sign half his stuff." "And every idiot con man around the world signs all his fakes." "They're looking for that." "It's smarter not to give it to them." "Smarter for you, but dumber for us." "I mean, the signature alone is worth 5 million if the painting's any good." "And you'd rob Fort Knox for 100 million... and still bend over to pick up a quarter... which is dangerously dumb, and I hate working with the dumb." "The only reason you won't sign it is because until you do... you've committed no crime." "I'm not here to smooth your exit." "Now sign the painting." "I've done hundreds of fakes all over the world... signed, dated, initialed, unsigned." "I know art experts." "You don't tell them what you have." "You let them tell you." "Call Richard Bright and Andrew Westerbrook." "Invite them here to Spain at my expense to see my new find." "Tell them we suspect it may be an uncataloged..." "Díaz de la Peña." "Ha." "Now let's go and see our Spanish tiller of the earth." "What's his name?" "Juan Del Campo." "We can deal with him." "The generous 40 bucks." "That's right." "Yeah, well, there you have it, eh?" "Peasant fantasy days." "50,000 pesetas for selling us an old painting... he never had found in his cellar." "Where's my 50,000 pesetas?" "Well, let's see what our London experts say first, shall we?" "If it passes muster with them, you'll be paid in full." "Cash on delivery." "Of a Rembrandt." "But I don't have a Rembrandt yet, do I?" "Because I don't have a signature... so until somebody tells me otherwise..." "I have a bloody Díaz de la Peña, don't I?" "Oh, that's really good." "Are you still teaching a course there?" "Oh, yes." "It's unsigned, but I think it might be... an early, uncataloged Díaz de la Peña." "Oh." "Yes, an uncataloged de la Peña would be wonderful." "Wouldn't it?" "Where's the champagne?" "Right behind you, Alistair." "Ah, thank you." "Well, gentlemen, good health." "Cheers." "Good health." "Everybody ready?" "That's not de la Peña." "It's not?" "Where did you say you bought this?" "I thought I might have discovered an old Spaniard." "Well, it is a discovery... but it's not an old Spaniard." "It's Dutch." "This is a Rembrandt." "Are you serious?" "No way." "Harry, you'll get paid on the approval..." "I don't get paid on approval." "I get paid on delivery!" "Which is now." "My client's not going to pay $5 million for a Rembrandt... without some kind of Dutch opinion." "But don't worry, Harry, as soon as we get back to London... you'll be paid in full." "Provided we have favorable opinion." "Jesus!" "Taxi!" "This is only the second time in my entire career... that I have participated in a discovery of this magnitude." "The Van Dyck in Goteborg." "No." "That was Biedermeier." "I authenticated the Triptych in the Basilica." "Yes." "You're not going to believe this." "Shall we telephone my client?" "No bloody way." "We're not going to sell it... to your Korean friend for 5 million... when we can make £30 million at auction." "Auction?" "What?" "Well, I know they'll be committed, but... a public auction's dangerous." "I think we'd be putting our entire reputation at risk." "Really?" "Is that what you were thinking?" "Well, Iain... my reputation isn't worth £30 million." "How much exactly did you think yours is worth?" "Why do you let him abuse you so?" "Well... it's called discipline." "He'll dispense of you." "No, no." "I'm biding my time." "I'm happy to let him think he's in control." "When the time's right, he's gone." "Then we go to a gallery in Tokyo." "You got your passport ready?" "'Cause we are 48 hours from Italy." "No, I'm not kidding." "I got the tickets right here in my hand." "That's great." "Yeah." "Well, we're gonna do it all, Dad." "We're gonna do everything." "All right." "Bye-bye." "So Wednesday's a bank holiday in Switzerland... so you can wire the money into my account on Tuesday." "That'd be fine." "Where's the fourth?" "You said there was gonna be 4." "No idea." "We're still waiting." "Well, screw 'em." "First come, first served." "We're gonna be down to ginger ale and breadsticks in a minute." "I'm sorry I'm late." "I've been circling..." "You're here now." "That's all that matters." "Hello." "Sorry." "Hello, hi." "Angelica." "Ooh, you're here." "Hi." "Ohh." "Ooh." "Oh, my God." "It's magnificent." "As soon as I laid eyes on it, I knew." "Young thought it might be Boet." "No." "I was only eliminating other possibilities." "Incredible, isn't it?" "Oh, truly it is." "Have any doubts?" "Well, based purely on connoisseurship..." "I'd say... it's brilliant." "But it's not Rembrandt." "What?" "I don't feel it's Rembrandt." "Why?" "I don't know." "I don't have any objective criteria to base it on." "I just don't quite get the same feeling as when I look at others..." "I disagree." "I think it strongly suggests Rembrandt's own hand." "Yes, it's consistent with the artist's early Leiden period." "Listen, it's stunning." "And I'd like to think it's authentic... but I feel it's not, but..." "Oh... hi." "I..." "I wouldn't want to go on record... until I'd seen the results of chemical analysis and x-ray testing and..." "We asked you here for your considered artistic opinion... based on your connoisseurship." "We'll be pleased to provide you with all the data you desire." "I don't want to take up more of your time." "No." "I'm sure you must be exhausted." "Allan, will you see the professor to her taxi?" "Well, sorry I have to rush again." "It's really unfortunate." "You have my mobile number." "Bye." "Uh, well, gentlemen, more champagne." "I understand what she's saying." "Well, oh, a student." "What?" "You told me you were a student." "I told you the truth." "The truth?" "You're M. M. Van Den Broeck, you phony... which you neglected to mention when I saw you in Paris... reading your book for the 15th time." "It was the finish of my father's research." "Yeah, yeah, but you wrote it." "And then you song and danced me at the Musée." "I was a student in Paris." "I was studying art restoration, professor." "I never said I was a professor, my dear." "You did." "Look, what happened in Paris was a mistake." "I'm sorry." "I must go now." "I'm late for Covent Garden." "What, the fucking opera?" "You breeze in for 2 minutes to see Rembrandt... then 4 hours at Rigoletto?" "La Boheme." "And sadly, I can't even stay for all of it... because I have to catch my train back to Venice tonight at 10:00." "Will you listen to me?" "Alistair Davies knew this was a Rembrandt all along." "He's the one who sent me to go do research." "He knew it wasn't Díaz de la Peña." "He just used that line to steal the painting away from the Spaniards." "And the only reason he's got you all here... is to make him look honest." "But I'm not so sure it is a Rembrandt." "Well, if it's not a Rembrandt, what is it?" "I don't know." "Maybe a student... maybe someone from his circle... maybe nobody." "Nobody." "What do you mean a nobody?" "Look, it's too perfect:" "Composition, eyes, texture, brushwork, everything." "But I feel something missing that makes me doubt it." "But mine's only one opinion." "You have 3 others." "That's enough to get you to auction." "What do you mean, auction?" "Covent Garden." "What do you mean, auction?" "I know it's disappointing." "That's 3 out of 4." "If that's none out of 4." "It's one opinion." "The one that counts, you idiot." "She's the expert's expert." "She's the chief consultant of the Rembrandt Committee." "We're dead." "Harry!" "Harry, what are you doing?" "I signed on for private placement, not public auction." "Why not go for 30 million instead of 5?" "Because going public is for pigs like you." "With that you're asking every fool on the globe... to stick his nose up the ass of this thing." "Well, doesn't your work bear scrutiny?" "If I thought it was smart to go public..." "I wouldn't need a fucking middleman, would I?" "You're the middleman." "Any idiot can paint a picture." "It takes genius to sell it." "You wouldn't know art if Michelangelo stuck his maulstick up your ass." "I'm warning you." "You filthy pimp." "Just give me the painting." "Harry." "Harry, don't!" "You are the worm in the stomach... of every painter that ever lived." "You bastard!" "Iain." "Ring the police." "Now!" "Shira!" "Harold Donovan?" "What do you want?" "Inspector Deeks." "We'd like a moment of your time if you don't mind." "I mind." "Where were you, sir, at approximately 9:00 this evening?" "Right here." " Do you know Mr. Alistair Davies, sir?" " No." "Have you been in the La Salle Gallery of fine art... at any time tonight?" "No." "That's not what Mr. Davies says, sir." "Nor what Mr. Iain Ill says." "Nor did Professor Marieke Van Den Broeck says." "And what did she say?" "That you were there observing a Rembrandt." "Rembrandt?" "She said Rembrandt." "Among other things." "Wow, you got me confused... which means I am drunker than I thought." "Cancel that last Guinness, please." "Would you step outside with us, please, sir?" "It's raining." "It stopped." "We'd like to talk to you... about the contents of that tube." "Well, great, but the tube's mine." "Not according to Mr. Alistair Davies." "He's full of shit now, isn't he?" "Put the tube down, sir, and turn around." "What for?" "Please, turn around." "Hello." "So now it's a Rembrandt." "I never said it was." "I've never seen..." "All right, can you do me a favor?" "Can you keep this intuition bullshit... to yourself for a couple days?" "Just 2 days." "I need to sell this painting." "But he's pulled me out of the opera." "They're trying to bust me for stealing, which I didn't do." " Aren't you leaving something out?" " What?" "Like the man you shot in the gallery." "The who?" "Who did I shoot?" "Please tell me it was Davies." "You killed that man." "You murdered that Japanese art dealer." " Yes, you did." " No, I didn't." "No, I did not." "Hey!" "Listen!" "I'll miss my train." "No, you won't." "Oh!" "Oh, excuse me." "Sorry." "Hang on." "What's the matter now?" "Have you got my passport?" "No, you've got passports." "Tickets, please." "Listen!" " Ow!" " Wait!" "Breakfast bell will be rung at 8:00." "Miss?" "Miss Pringle." "Uh, right, sir." "Have a nice journey." "Help!" "Help!" "Oh!" "Please!" "Don't do that." "Are you going to kill me?" "I didn't kill anyone." "I don't have a gun." "I don't want to hurt you... but I will." "Now, I'm going to sell that painting... because as far as the world's concerned, it's a Rembrandt." "And the only person who thinks that it's not is you." "So you give me 48 hours before you kill it." "2 days and then you're free." "You'll never be able to sell it." "Ok, Professor." "We've got full alerts at all the airports, ferries, and train stations." "They contacted the FBI for anything they've got on him." "Passport." "Shit!" "Sergeant, get that." "What is it?" "If you're really innocent, you'd be stupid to run like this." "I didn't murder anyone." "Don't tell me, tell the police." "Let justice run its course." "If justice ran its course..." "Van Gogh wouldn't have died broken in a nut house... while Irises sold for 50 million to some insurance goon." "Oh, so Van Gogh gives you the right... to steal this picture and sell it." "No, doctor." "What gives me the right... is I didn't steal it." "I painted it." "What?" "I said I painted it." "I don't believe you." "I don't care what you believe." "What are you saying?" "I am saying that it is my painting... because I painted it, so I'm going to sell it." "I see." "All that, that gallery, this picture... this is just one big fraud." "Fraud?" "When are you going to realize... that all of this art crap is a fraud." "Otherwise, how could the same picture be worth 10 million or zip..." "Based on what, a signature?" "Rembrandt is priceless, Donovan is worthless... that's not art... that's autographs." "It has been known for a gallery... to arrange to have a picture stolen from themselves." "What possible end, may I ask?" "Insurance money, perhaps." "That's ridiculous." "It's not insured at all." "We're out-of-pocket 20 million pounds." "And more importantly, Inspector... we've lost our closest colleague Mr. Agachi." "There's evidence that Donovan and Van Den Broeck... may have known each other previously." "At least as far back as a month ago in Paris." "My God." "They're in collusion." "To do what, sir?" "To fleece us." "Don't you see, by calling the painting a fake..." "I'd have to sell it pennies in the pound... then they'd turn around and sell it at full price." "And failing that, Donovan simply stole it and... murdered Tom in cold blood." "Right in front of us like some maniac." "Professor Van Den Broeck said she was unconvinced... of the painting's authenticity." "Inspector, if it weren't absolutely genuine... then why would they steal it?" "Porter, why has the train stopped?" "We're backed up, sir." "Police search." "I'll take this one." "Porter, come unlock this door." "2 days." "Ok, you don't have to..." "Whew!" "Hello, can I get 2 pints, please?" "2 pints, you say?" "Right." "You, uh, have a telephone?" "A phone." "Ha ha ha." "You've come to the right place for a phone..." "I'll tell you that." "We have here the original restored phone box... used by Lord Mountbatten to call Winston Churchill... on the very night that Field Marshal Montgomery... received his command." "There's a plaque on the back wall." "And where is that?" "Around and behind." "All right." "Come on." "I have a collect call for a Mr. Felix Darmene... from Harry Donovan." "Go ahead, please." "Felix, yeah." "Look, I've got something for you." "Yeah, a once-in-a-lifetime thing..." "Dutch master." "Can you get it here to Geneva?" "Look, you interested?" "We'll be happy to have a look." "Help!" " Help!" " Hey!" "Help!" "Hey!" "Open up!" "Help!" "Help!" "Help!" "Stop it!" "Oh!" "Bastard!" "Be careful!" "You bloody yutz bastard!" "Destroyed a bit of England!" "Come here!" "Ladies, if you don't mind." "Keep chasing the snow!" "Now, my dear, that was rude." "In the middle of a phone call." "Are you trying to get us killed?" "What are you doing with me?" "I'm in this paper like some criminal." "You don't believe that I killed that guy." "It's a lot easier than believing you painted that picture." "Oh, that's right." "You are the expert, aren't you?" "I didn't paint the Rembrandt that isn't the Rembrandt." "I killed the guy that I didn't kill." "Oh, and we didn't make love in Paris." "Not to mention you killed Mr. Churchill's phone box." "Seems that the door was stuck, wasn't it?" "And I'll tell you, that happens again, I'll ruin you." "And it's going to take a lifetime to clear your name... 'cause I'll tell them that you were in it with me from the beginning." "I swear to God, I'll turn your precious little reputation into dog shit." "What?" "Dog shit!" "Poo-poo?" "So get it." "From now on, we are friends." "Let's act that way." "You don't have any friends." "Oh, yeah, why is that?" "You're an ogre." "You don't like people." "What?" "You don't like people." "Oh, I like people." "Name one." "I like people." "One more day with me while I try to fence this painting." "You spend one day with the ogre." "Oh, I'm shivering." "I'm so cold." "Come on, move along here!" "Did nobody ever tell you about stealing?" "What's that rule again?" "You all right?" "Great." "You feel hot." "Ohh." "Do you have any money?" "Why, you want to steal it?" "Yes." "Too bad, 'cause I..." "I lost my purse on the train." "Marieke." "Thank you." "Kid's got talent." "Hmm..." "Are you sure that's Gainsborough?" "It's killing me to part with it now." "So, what are you asking for it?" "Ah-choo!" "Guess what?" "Classic car." "Austin Healey stolen." "Canterbury." "Did they get a license plate?" "691 TDT." "It's Ampicillin BK, 500 milligrams... so just take one every 4 hours." "You know a lot about pharmaceuticals." "My grandfather." "Was a pharmacist?" "Yeah." "Your father, too?" "Painter." "Ashcan School." "Sloan, Bellows, Hopper." "Taught me how to draw." "I taught me how to make a living." "When did you first make a living?" "My mother had just died." "My father was scraping by illustrating auto manuals." "Painting when he could." "Did an oil..." "Workers in a machine shop." "It was quite a painting." "Couldn't sell it for 10 bucks." "So one day I took it... fooled around with it for a couple of hours... went downtown and sold it that day for a grand." "How did you feel?" "Sick." "And I think he knew." "Then why didn't you quit?" "'Cause I was young." "Money, denial, I don't know." "Met the wrong guy at the right time." "Friend of my dad's." "Not a very good painter, but quite a hustler." "And he taught me every style in the world." "Except your own." "Is everything fake?" "No." "No." "His work's been hanging at the Scottish National Gallery... for the last 3 years now." "Excuse me." "We've got some good news for you, sir." "Come through." "We confirmed your account that the picture was uninsured." "So, uh, where's my painting?" "We believe he's still got it, sir." "You believe!" "Apparently, they got off the French-bound train last night... just ahead of our own people." "We believe they're still in Britain... but, uh, for all we know, sir... he could have made it anywhere in the world at anytime." "It's a Rembrandt!" "He'd never mail it." "I'll mail it to you." "It's hotter than a pistol, Harry." "Nobody will touch it." "Oh, come on, are you telling me... every time they steal the Mona Lisa... there's a hundred people waiting in line to buy it." "Are you telling me this is hotter than that?" "Every time they stole the Mona Lisa... they never killed anybody." "Yeah, but Dimi..." "Dimi..." "Don't call me again, Harry." "I don't want to buy your problem." "Fuck!" "There's a million dollars out there for this picture... and that prick Davies has fixed it." "The entire legitimate, semi-legitimate... semi-illegitimate market is dead to me." "You know, you're losing your mind." "You're as ravenous as those vultures you hate so much." "So stop pretending to be some martyr outside of it... because you are it." "Are you finished?" "With all this outrage... you could be signing your own name." "My father signed his own name..." "Please shut up about your father." "This is the only thing I have to give him." "You're not doing this for your father, Harry." "You blame your father for your failure." "What the hell do you know about failure, doctor?" "You inherited your racket." "You were given your library gig." "So what do you know about failure?" "Maybe nothing." "Maybe I am exactly what you say I am..." "A woman stuck in a book." " That's right." " A safe place." "But failure's a safe place for you, Harry." "Doing your own work, that's a risk... but you don't use your talent." "You simply don't have the..." "Guts." "Guts, yes." "Coming from the woman who never took a risk in her life." "I'm taking one right now." "I am not an artist, Harry, but I love art." "Oh, will you do me a favor... and don't talk to me about art?" "Don't even say it!" "Art was my dog's name." "Oh, that's obvious." "There's no real beauty in you." "Not really." "You're in it for the paycheck." "Oh, who isn't?" "Do you think the garbageman ain't in it for the paycheck?" "'Cause he sure as hell ain't in it for the garbage." "You're talking about a job, Harry." "I'm talking about a gift." "Get ready, people." "The bus is leaving in 2 minutes." "Excuse me." "Yes or no, Colin?" "There's a fellow in Birmingham... uh, name of Offul." "He'll fence just about anything... but he cuts pretty deep." "How deep?" "100,000." "Thames Bridge, midnight." "£100,000 for a Rembrandt?" "Dollars." "Thames Bridge, midnight." "I'll tell you what, I'd rather burn it, you son of a bitch!" "If I get caught, I want you to mail this for me." "The London bus is leaving right now." "Give me, uh, 12 hours before you blow the whistle." "Give you 12 hours?" "Yeah." "I kissed you on a bridge." "We made love under one." "I think you can trust me." "It's not what I..." "It's not what I said." "Excuse me, luv, how much for the painting?" "What, that?" "It's not for sale." "It's me dad's, isn't it?" "Well, pick a high number, dear." "You like it that much?" "50 quid, then." "Oh!" "Rembrandt Van Rijn, I presume." "You got the money?" "May I see the goods, my dear?" "100,000?" "I owe you 100,000." "Did we say dollars or pounds?" "Oh, what the hell, let's make it pounds." "It's a Rembrandt, after all." "May I owe you a million pounds?" "Ugo, settle the debt." "Aah!" "Aah!" "It's not the bloody Rembrandt!" "It says Rembrandt." "You stupid ass!" "Franz Richard Odebaker." "Belgian School." "One of his most important works." "Outside of Belgium." "Ha." "If only you stuck to Belgian masters." "Hello, John." "Hello, Harry." "It's been a while." "How's your dad?" "How's Milton?" "Not great." "You know, I always maintained... that you were the most brilliant I ever saw." "Well, I got to lay off this painting, John." "I'm sorry, Harry." "Like Moses, you can see the promised land... but you can't step foot in it." "Yes, I can." "Come on, Harry, this is Chess." "The grand masters never play it out." "I am not leaving with nothing." "You may leave with less than nothing." "Pray for nothing." "Harry..." "I'd better tell you something." "I was the one who put Davies onto you." "I hoped for the best." "I never imagined it would turn out like this." "Forgive me, please." "Harold Donovan, you are under arrest for murder." "Son of a bitch." "The painting." "Get..." "Get that painting!" "We will prove... that the defendant Mr. Harold Donovan... attempted to participate... in the brokerage of a Dutch master portrait..." "That when he realized... he would be excluded from the transaction... he became enraged... that when he realized he'd be left with nothing... he stole the masterpiece... using violence... robbery." "He killed one of his former partners... murder." "He resisted arrest... assaulted a policeman." "He fled." "And we recovered a Lincoln-Levinson semiautomatic... photographed and dusted it for fingerprints." "And were there any fingerprints on the handgun?" "Milord, I really must ask Mr. Turley... kindly to stop leading the witness." "I will rephrase the question." "What did you find on the gun?" "A thumb smudge on the barrel... belonging to Mr. Alistair Davies... and a clear right forefinger... on the trigger and trigger guard... belonging to Mr. Donovan." "He's not answering." "Would you like to leave a message?" "Yeah, yeah." "Please tell him that his son called... and that I..." "Hello..." "Hello?" "Hel..." "Who was in the gallery?" "Tom, Iain, and I." "We had just decided to go ahead with our plans... for a private sale to a client of Tom's in Korea... when suddenly, Mr. Donovan burst in... and demanded the Rembrandt." "Naturally, we all protested... but he took the painting." "That's utter bullshit." "Mr. White, would you please exercise some control... over your client?" "Professor Westerbrook..." "You have had an opportunity... to examine the painting in question, have you not?" "I have." "As professor of fine art... at St. Matthews College, Oxford... and as an advisor on old masters... to her Majesty the Queen... what conclusions have you reached?" "In my opinion... the work is indisputably Rembrandt Van Rijn." "A masterpiece." "Authentic." "Rembrandt." "It's a fake." "Is it possible you might have a personal reason... for not being entirely truthful... on behalf of the defendant?" "No." "You've said he handcuffed you and kidnapped you?" "Yes." "Although, at the time of his apprehension..." "I don't believe anyone remembers you wearing handcuffs." "Are you in love with him?" "Really, Milord, perhaps my learned friend... could explain the relevance..." "Milord, it is entirely relevant... concerning as it does the witness' motives... in giving evidence here today." "You must answer the question, please." "I did not love him when I first saw... and pronounced this painting not genuine." "And you had no involvement with him... before you saw the painting for the first time?" "No." "Really?" "When were you last in Paris, Professor Van Den Broeck?" "Um... 4 months ago." "And where did you stay?" "Hotel Lyon." "Milord, with your permission..." "I would like to admit this note into court... written to the defendant... and signed by the witness." "Professor Van Den Broeck, would you be so kind... as to read that note aloud... to the court?" ""I had to go..."" "We cannot hear you, Professor." "I..." "I suspect also that members of the jury... may be having a little trouble with your delightful accent." "Yes, please." "Speak up." ""I had to go." "You were wonderful." "To R.V.R., Marieke."" "Will you tell us, please... what R.V.R. Means?" "Rembrandt Van Rijn." "Thank you, Professor." "Professor, I submit that your evidence is worthless... and your credibility highly questionable." "Is my learned friend cross-examining... or is he making a speech?" "Call Maurice Scheerding." "She said he was a friend." "He was a patronizing, arrogant bore." "And I can tell you... he does not know his art from his ass." "And tell us... what were they doing in the bar?" "Translation, please." "Uh, making the beast with 2 backs." "And what does that mean?" "Sexual congress, Milord." "No, no, no." "They were fucking." "When Mr. Agachi stepped forward... to prevent you from stealing the painting... did you fire the gun at Mr. Agachi?" "Yes... but I didn't kill him." "I was trying to make a point." "Look, I..." "I have a studio in Amsterdam... and I can prove all these things." "You'll prove what, that you didn't kill him?" "It's all part of a conspiracy?" "A conspiracy for what?" "Conspiracy to commit armed robbery." "Of what?" "Rembrandt's portrait of his father." "Except that it's my portrait of my father." "Now, look, I..." "They took it away, but I had a picture." "And... and if you could see it... you'd be able to see that..." "What?" "The eyes..." "That I gave it my father's eyes." "Mr. Donovan, please." "The portrait may have, but the eyes..." "No." "I painted my father's eyes, and I distorted it." "I painted it over and over in the same way that Rembrandt would've." "If you take a look at the x-rays, you'll be able to see that." "Sir... have you any idea how many men step forward each year... to claim credit for Hamlet... or Beethoven's Ninth Symphony?" "Do you know how many people are convinced... that they are the czar's long-lost nephew..." "Napoleon... even Jesus Christ?" "Well, I'm not Jesus..." "But I painted that painting." "No more questions, Milord." "What a day." "What a day." "What a monumental day." "You know, Harry, you were absolutely right." "Signing that painting would've been a grievous error." "Please accept my sincere apologies." "I do hope you know... how much I truly admire your work." "Well, not enough to pay for it... but then, it's all a pile of shit anyway, isn't it?" "And as for the public... well, you see, they're told what's art... by me." "And you forgot that, Harry." "Or you never knew it." "When this yen-soaked tycoon... couldn't wait to throw his money away... it was because I said the painting was a steal... at 5 million." "So... what in the world were you thinking... when you took my Rembrandt?" "You could've had half a million... and a towel on the beach." "Instead, you're here... destitute... like all the others." "So Van Gogh sat in a room in a mental hospital... painting sunflowers." "You can cut off both your ears... but unless I say you're a genius... you're just another lunatic." "Oh, by the way... well, this is old news... but..." "I'm sure he died a proud father." "The last time I was with him, he yelled at me." "You know, I should've taken the time." "I didn't get it." "He was sick in his heart." "He never judged me." "Never, ever was he anything less than beautiful to me." "He loved you." "And I betrayed him." "No." "Yeah." "He had a gift for me, and I didn't see it in time." "I missed it." "No, what you see now is his gift to you." "We have one last chance..." "One thing to do." "Milord, the defense requests permission... to have the defendant Mr. Harold Donovan... demonstrate his expertise here in open court... by reproducing the disputed painting." "Milord, we have just heard... from 5 scientists and other experts." "Having the defendant now here in court paint... wouldn't be evidence of anything." "It would be evidence of artistic expertise, Milord." "By recreating the picture in his own hand..." "Mr. Donovan can support his claim to authorship of the disputed..." "Milord, even if he reproduced Whistler's Mother here in court... would that make him Whistler?" "Milord, there is ample precedent for this... in the 1947 trial of the Dutch master forger Han Van Mirdrin." "He reproduced his counterfeit Vermeer paintings... in open court." "That was in Holland, Milord." "I really can't see the relevance of the country." "I will permit it." "But, Milord..." "I'm tired of hearing about all this." "I want to see it for myself." "Court will adjourn while you prepare this demonstration." "All rise." "You can forget your membership at my club." "Now we're screwed." "Calm down, you idiot." "Nobody's screwed." "If he succeeds, the painting's worthless." "The whole thing's falling apart." "It took him a whole month to paint it... under perfect conditions." "The best he's going to come up with now is a sketch." "He's going to prove the case for us here." "Right." "Hi." "Hello." "You know, when I went to the gallery... there were three of you." "Now there are two." "I guess pretty soon there will only be one." "Really?" "One can't be too careful." "Court is now in session." "Is the defendant ready, Mr. White?" "He is, Milord." "Very well." "He can begin." "What happened to your own show?" "Remember that?" "You promised me you were going to get rid of this forgery shit." "That's the point." "Not even Harry Donovan." "Harry." "Harry, come on, please." "Go on." "What are you doing?" "Has your client finished, Mr. White?" "Only Rembrandt can paint Rembrandt." "See, Iain?" "Nothing to worry about." "We were lucky." "I make my own luck." "Yes, Mr. Turley?" "Uh, call Mr. Iain Ill, please." "Now get up there... and try not to make too big a fool of yourself." "Mr. Ill, will you tell us, please, in your own words... what happened on the night in question?" "Yes." "There was a dispute over the sale of the Rembrandt." "Alistair wanted to cut Mr. Donovan out of the deal." "There was an argument." "Mr. Donovan tried to take the painting." "Alistair pulled out a gun." "There was a struggle." "Mr. Donovan got hold of the gun." "He humiliated Alistair... fired a shot..." "Aah!" "Over Tom Agachi's head... missing him..." "Stole the painting and ran." "Are you ok, Tom?" "Then Alistair picked up the gun... covered it with a handkerchief..." "Iain." "Ring the police." "Tell them there's been a robbery." "And a murder." "Aah!" "Who shot Mr. Agachi?" "Alistair Davies." "You son of a bitch!" "You bastard!" "You..." "You bastard!" "You pitiful... fucking rat bastard!" "You son of a bitch!" "I'll kill you, you bastard!" "Clear the public gallery!" "Officers, bring that man before the court!" "You understand that you will be held in contempt of court... for this very serious and prejudicial outburst?" "Milord, we will request a retrial... based on the nature of the eruption... and its effect on my client's attempt to exculpate himself." "Yes, Mr. White." "We will hear those arguments tomorrow." "Milord, it would be interesting to know... why Mr. Ill found it necessary to make false statements... during the original police inquiry." "Because I was terrified." "I've always been afraid of Alistair." "Always." "I am the only witness to the murder he committed." "I know it would only be a matter of time... before he got rid of me, too." "Alistair Davies," "I understand that you have been placed under arrest... by the police." "You will be taken from this building in their custody... and in my view, you should be held without bail... until your trial." "Mr. Turley, in view of these developments... do you still seek a conviction in front of this jury?" "We do not, Milord." "Members of the jury, I will shortly invite you... to enter formal verdicts of not guilty... on all outstanding charges... and, Mr. Donovan... you will be free to leave this court." "Thank you." "Clerk, we will take the verdict." "Sold... at £375,000." "Lot 22." "Portrait of a Blind Man... by Rembrandt Harmenszoon Van Rijn..." "Subject believed to be the artist's own father." "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen." "Thank you." "I'll start the bidding at £4 million." "£4 million..." "Gentleman on the aisle." "Yeah, will you tell her I called?" "I mean, I tried everywhere." "I don't..." "Yeah." "Well, tell her I'm here and I'll wait... but, you know, tell her to come." "10 million... the gentleman on the aisle over here." "£10 million." "£10,500,000..." "The lady in the second row at the back." "£18 million..." "The lady on the aisle in the back." "£18 million." "£18,500,000... gentleman in the front row." "£18,500,000." "Would you wait for me, please?" "The gavel just fell... $55 million." "Sold to a Hong Kong hotel chain." "Guess where all the money goes?" "Don't tell me." "UNICEF?" "The owner of the La Salle Gallery of fine art..." "Iain Ill." "I guess he goes home a very rich man." "Maybe." "What do you mean, maybe?" "Did you mail that letter for me?" "Yeah." "What about it?" "Oh... maybe sometimes means maybe not." "Ladies and gentlemen!" "My lords!" "Ladies and gentlemen!" "Little bit of a hush." "Little bit of a hush." "Please, please." "Um, it gives me great joy... to welcome you all here on this wonderful evening." "Um, as our great good friends of many years... have seen us through some difficult times... we'd like to invite you all in a few weeks... to the opening of our exciting new gallery in Tokyo!" "Um, of course... we seem to have run out of Rembrandts... but there's still a lot of fabulous paintings to buy... so enjoy yourselves." "Cheers, everyone." "Well said!" "Chong, Chong... come meet E.L. Hand, my assistant." "Thank you." "E.L., meet Chong." "Chong, this is E.L., my assistant." "We've got a problem." "Does the name Juan Del Campo ring a bell?" "Del Campo..." "19th century linguist?" "The farmer in whose cellar the Rembrandt was discovered." "Oh, yes, I remember him." "He got an anonymous letter saying you cheated him." "He apparently hired himself a lawyer." "Um, under Spanish law... the government of Spain... has the right to match the purchase price... of any painting deemed a national treasure... which this painting now has been deemed." "Oh." "Hooray for Spain." "Forget pounds." "I'm quite happy to take it in pesetas." "I'm afraid it's not as simple as that, Iain." "The Spanish courts have ruled... he is the painting's true owner... and he gets all the money." "This is insane." "They can't void a sale just like that." "You're my lawyer." "You've got to do something about it." "That painting was sold!" "And it remains sold." "It's just your money, you see... which makes its transfer back to Spain..." "All of it." "Mmm." "Very practical." "Thanks to you." "My grandfather remembers you here a few months ago... of course, when you sent the letter." "He says you are an angel for our family." "Of the 7 billion pesetas... the government took 2/3." "And the church took another half." "But without the letter, he wouldn't have anything." "He wants to give you half... 600 million pesetas." "$5 million." "That's very generous." "He wants to embrace you." "You are the angel of the people here." " Gracias." " De nada." "Amigo... where's the Rembrandt?" "In Madrid..." "In the Prado, of course." "Sí, en el Prado, en el Prado!" "Think it's, uh..." "Genuine?" "What do you ask me for?" "Just want to know what you feel..." "Professor." "I'm not sure." "It's not signed."