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The Crime & Canvas Podcast - Uncovering the Gardner Heist!
Where Every Voice Matters
The Crime & Canvas Podcast - Uncovering the Gardner Heist!
Brought to you by:
Where Every Voice Matters
This is Suzanne Kenney and you’re listening to the Crime and Canvas Podcast. In episode two, we introduced the incredible artworks that came into my mother Mary’s possession. Pieces I believe are central to the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum heist. But how did we connect those artworks to the alleged perpetrator Frederick R. Koch? The answer lies in seemingly ordinary scraps of paper, but these are handwritten notes containing both Mr. Koch’s and my mother Mary’s handwriting.
As I discuss these notes, if you want some visuals to help follow along, please visit crimeandcanvaspodcast.com, click on the evidence link in the top navigation, and look down the list for the handwritten notes.
In them, he was clearly trying to document where he obtained the artwork, but he also took the time to impart bits of art knowledge, even sketching examples of cubism, which you can see in note three. This duality, recording provenance and offering impromptu art lessons make these notes incredibly telling about his true intentions. The method of selling artwork would be different for Mr. Koch than it would be for a flea market person. Most likely Mr. Koch didn’t realize this. He’s lived a life of luxury. His methods of getting things accomplished are way different than a normal person. He could just call up a place and say, I have this painting to sell and they don’t even need a provenance. They are yes, Mr. Koch. If my mother called them, they would probably hang up on her as they’re laughing. Anyhow.
Today we begin to decode these notes. Imagine yourself back in 91, 92, no Google, no instant search, no way for my mother Mary at her flea market booth in Okeechobee, Florida to verify anything this mysterious man calling himself Ed Koch was telling her. She had no way of knowing about a massive art storage warehouse fire in London. Which we discuss in Episode Six, or any of the complexities of the international art market he spoke of. He simply arrived and insisted she buy his artwork piece after piece for only a couple dollars each.
My mother, Mary, always practical, figured it wasn’t a huge investment. Even if she didn’t quite understand what she was buying, she sold bric-a-brac, everyday collectibles, but she enjoyed his visits. He was polite. He told her stories of a life she could never have imagined. Tales from a world of grand art and a life of luxury and yachts, gold-plated dishes, and of course the lawsuits between him and his brothers he spoke of. Anyhow, things she had never heard of, even like an art storage warehouse. And during these visits, in his clear handwriting, he made notes. Notes about where he supposedly acquired these artworks, notes that Mary also jotted down.
He was trying to tell her where he got some of the artwork. He wrote details about provenance terms like Marlborough House Gallery, 1953 auction catalog, collection of H. Leeds. Methods of selling artwork are vastly different for a billionaire art collector than a flea market vendor. He probably didn’t realize these seemingly innocent notes would eventually expose him.
These notes, now a crucial piece of evidence, connect every single work from the Van Gogh to the Picasso, Manet, Calder, and Jane Peterson to his deceptive scheme.
In total, there are 10 notes, so let’s run down what these notes tell us about the artwork we discussed in Episode Two. For the Vincent van Gogh painting, The Sultan of Morocco, the notes state it’s titled The Moroccan, that it came from Gallery Van Nuys, 13 Rue de Missionaire in Paris, France, from the Madame Corne, the proprietor, that it’s from the Paris period.
These are precise details, names, and addresses. Though, through much research online, I can’t confirm this address or this Madame Corne. Next is the Pablo Picasso pieces. The notes state that they were formerly the collection of H. Leed. And for the Femme Essise style drawing, specifically purchased from the Marlborough House Gallery in London, 1953, catalog. And he lists numbers, number 22, number 28, number 33, and number 41. Again, specific galleries, dates, and even catalog numbers.
The Alexander Calder drawings, the five pen and pencil circus scenes, the notes claim that they’re from the Hokin Gallery in Palm Beach and belong to Mr. Calder’s housekeeper, Mrs. Clifford. The Hokin Gallery did hold, based on my research, exclusive licenses to sell Alexander Calder, so that is a likely place to get a Calder drawing. I can’t confirm the Mrs. Clifford I have found some subtle information on that, but nothing that backs that up. And the Calder Foundation, which I’ve been to twice in New York, You know they don’t want to help-anyhow we go over that in another episode.
And for the Jane Peterson bird paintings, the notes say they originated from the Washington Gallery. They’re on Kodak paper on Washington Avenue in Miami. Ned Matthews and his brother. Ned Matthews and his brother own the Washington Gallery, Washington Art Storage on Washington Avenue in Miami. We talked about the Kodak paper already for the Jane Peterson.
This Washington Art Gallery is a very interesting story. It went on to become the Wolfsonian and a man, Mr. Wolfson, had stored so much of his art collectibles there that he ended up purchasing the building, turning it into his own personal gallery, and then went on to donate it to the University down there. And now they own the Wolfsonian Museum. This guy, there’s interesting stories about how he had a train car that he would travel around America in. There is some connection with how I come upon him and other information that makes me think him and Fred knew each other. And one of my theories as we get into the art heist is one of the ways they could have moved the art was on his train car. The stories on his train car would be how he would love to pull into these little towns and he’d go into the barber shop to get a haircut and he’d ask them to tell him, you know, who has what in town? And then he’d go visit those people and he’d buy whatever they had. He’d convince them to sell them and he’d load them up on his train car. So. He used his train car to move collectibles around.
Anyhow, back to the artwork and the notes. Then there’s a Camille Bombois. This is a small painting of a river scene. The notes state this is from the Naiveté period and it looks like a painting that’s most likely from the Naiveté period, something more early on in his painting before he mastered his style.
Lastly for the keys van Dongen, it’s a drawing of a lady in a hat the notes state that the provenance with the Picasso’s that this also came from the Marlborough House Gallery in London from the 1953 catalog number 22 number 28 number 33 and number 41
I want to state the Marlborough House Gallery is mentioned four times in the notes, twice with the 1953 auction catalog numbers, and twice just the name. Three of the four times it is written, it is in Mr. Koch’s handwriting.
Now it’s important to state that my mom said that this catalog. It was something that was mailed to him. And then he would let the people know how much to bid. He didn’t go to these auctions. He bid it through the phone or whatever. You’ve seen that where they don’t show up and they bid on the phone. And that’s how he bid. I also want to state that we’ve tried really hard to find these Marlborough House auction catalogs and I haven’t been able to find any.
I’ve tried to contact the Marlborough House Gallery in London. I couldn’t get anywhere there either. Now you have to think about this, if Mr. Koch has bought a lot of art from these people, all Mr. Koch has to say is this lady is trying to, whatever he’s gonna say, that’s gonna make them not help me. That’s their goal. They’re the criminal, but they’re also rich and they can convince people to respond however, and the people believe it, but they don’t realize that they’re covering up a crime. They think I’m the wrong person.
And that’s what has to stop. I also wanted to state that I read somewhere in my deep research back in 2010, 2011, that there were articles out how Fred and John would go to these auctions in the 90s and 2000s. And they were buying up all the auction gallery catalogs and they didn’t understand why. Now we know why.
Because if I ever get a hold of these catalogs and I can validate this artwork, I can prove this story. And I don’t want that. That’s pretty obvious. There are even artworks mentioned in the notes that I’ve never seen or photographed, pieces my mother sold before I could document them. A Maurice D. Vlaminck, a Fernand Ledger, and a Joan Miro.
The consistency across all these notes the detailed references to specific galleries or the auction catalog and just the overall total knowledge of art in these notes. This wasn’t, I don’t know, you just have to look at the notes. You have to look at the story and listen to the story and maybe be a part of it. Help me share this story.
So these notes paint a picture of Frederick R. Koch’s deep knowledge of the art world. A knowledge far beyond what any typical criminal would possess. Only someone with extensive, almost encyclopedic art knowledge could share such precise details. And you know like auction houses, specific catalog numbers, addresses, even Wildenstein. He gave us the exact address for Wildenstein. He also told mom that Wildenstein was known for moving black market art. And I don’t know why A. He would tell her that and B. It is true he moved, he’s known to move black market art.
My mom doesn’t know anything about this stuff and when I look up all the stuff she’s telling me and it all aligns, what are you supposed to do? Stand up for it, let others hear it. And that’s what I’m doing.
In the notes was obscure collectors like H. Leed and the Calder’s housekeeper. The level of detail confirms a deep embedding in the high end art world, not the criminal underworld. I can confirm that the handwriting on these notes in the Sun Biz document appeared striking similar to an expert.
I had paid for forensic expert Speckin to perform ink tests on the Alexander Calder drawings. During that meeting, I showed him these very notes in the Sun Biz document. While he was not hired to formally analyze the handwriting, he observed that the handwriting looked very similar, further bolstering that it was Frederick R. Koch visiting with my mother. validating that these sunbiz documents which are very important and they come out in my Miami research and yeah just in that episode we’ll talk more about that very interesting information there.
My journey to understand these notes, to piece together these connections, spans over 20 years. It began back in 2002 when I sold the Picasso’s and Jane Peterson Pelican paintings on eBay. But the real dedication to unlocking these secrets began around 2010. I conducted the ink test in 2012.
That was on the Calder drawings that hinted at a deeper connection. We discussed this in episode five. I even pursued research at the Frick Library in New York when I went up to the Calder Foundation, a place Frederick Koch was on the board of directors, which I find out later. Not when I went to New York. I was not aware of even Fred Koch the first time I went to New York. The second time I had figured out who he was. And yeah, the Kochs. Were ahead of me. They made sure no one listened to me.
In the notes, Mr. Koch tells my mother to write down Picasso Museum in Paris. The notes state there’s a book in the Frick Library in New York. That’s why I went to that Frick Library looking for that book that was in 2002 when I went to New York. Second time I went to New York was, I think 2010. We talk about that in another episode. In these notes, Mr. Koch also directly instructed my mother to contact specific museums that dealt with the artwork he was selling her. He rattled off their addresses from memory. The Colorado State Museum in Denver, the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York for Van Gogh, the Museum of Modern Art in New York for Picasso. He even told her to write to the Picasso Museum in Paris.
The blue note, which is the note on Guy Wildenstein. It states photo and dimension, and it even states the word provenance. And it says that the Wildenstein Institute is at 57 Rue de la Boetie, 75008 Paris, France. He effortlessly provided this from memory. And it was his correct address when I looked it up in 2010.
He even boasted that his name is in bronze on the door of the Department of Indian Artifacts at the Denver Museum. Again, this is in the notes. When I called the Denver Museum, they wouldn’t provide any help stating that the department was under construction and the door was gone.
This wasn’t some petty criminal’s knowledge. This was a man deeply embedded in the art world with connections to prestigious institutions who was simply telling my mother where his artwork had been or his knowledge of the art world.
But this connection to Native American affairs runs even deeper and further back in the Koch family. William Koch, Frederick’s own brother. Now remember, William and Frederick stay buddy buddies. It’s Charles and David that there against.
but anyhow. William Koch, Frederick’s own brother, remarkably named his famous America’s Cup winning yacht after an American tribe. This gesture takes on a chilling new meaning when you consider that William himself filed a landmark lawsuit in 1989. Fred shows up in my mother’s life in 91.
Talks about his name being on the Indian in Denver on the door at the museum. And this lawsuit against his brother Charles and David Koch and the Koch Industries explicitly claiming that they had stolen oil from Native American tribes. The significance of the 1989 date is profound. It falls before Frederick’s visits with my mother and his mention of Indian artifacts. This wasn’t a minor dispute. In 1999, a jury found Koch Industries guilty of making tens of thousands of false claims, resulting in millions of dollars in underpaid royalties to the government and tribes. The company eventually settled for $25 million with the U.S. government in May of 2001. William Koch for his role in bringing the suit under the False Claims Act received 7.37 million of that settlement.
Now, another thing I want to quickly note in the 1980s, William and Fred sued David and Charles for their inheritance. The brothers had to pay out a billion dollars then. Fred and William won. And Fred was paid out $400-something million. He’s never worked, never had to work a day in his life. He never worked at the company. And so there was bad blood between these brothers, which is talked about to my mother. He talks about lawsuits and dislike for a twin brother. Who else could we have here, folks? But this exact information, all aligning with the stories he told my mother.
The court case exposed practices where Koch Industries allegedly engaged volume enhancement in fraudulent reporting to cheat producers, including Native American lands. So while Frederick might have boasted of his name and bronze at a museum department dedicated to Indian artifacts, his own brother was exposing the family’s alleged theft. From the Native American communities. It paints a complex, deeply unsettling picture of this family’s history with wealth and cultural artifacts. The notes became the linchpin of my investigation. They provided the first concrete roadmap, revealing Koch’s true identity and the source of his artwork. You can see the actual handwritten notes that changed everything for me on crimeandcanvaspodcast.com under the evidence link in the top navigation.
What’s profoundly disturbing, thinking about all these notes now, is the man behind them. Frederick R. Koch knew his crimes. He knew exactly what he shared with my mother, what he sold her, and what they wrote about together in those seemingly innocent notes. He even left her with this incredible dream of retiring, explicitly telling her to sell the artwork and retire, get out of the flea market, he told her, and promising to help her navigate the complex process of selling the artwork. But when my mother went to Sotheby’s, it immediately triggered them contacting his brothers. And that’s when the spotlight got hot. He realized he couldn’t control the outcome and had to secretly back out, leaving my mother standing there, utterly bewildered. Looking like a fool to the art world and to those she was sharing her amazing story with. And he didn’t just abandon her. He had years to prepare. He meticulously planned for the day she finally pieced it all together and found him. A day he would simply deny everything. How utterly awful is that? He had many years, nearly two decades passed before we truly pieced together this entire story. Not that we were working on it nonstop, but the timeline remained open. In all those years, he had time. Time to prepare for the inevitable moment someone would finally connect the dots. The audacity of it to leave such a detailed trail knowing he had so long to prepare for any repercussions.
These handwritten notes are more than just scribbles on paper. They are a crucial piece of evidence that proves Koch’s guilt.
They expose his detailed knowledge of the art world’s inner workings, a sophistication that directly contradicts any notion of the Gardener heist being a simple mob job. Not that the mob isn’t involved. But we’ll go into that when I go into how I solved it in a future episode.
These notes are undeniable proof that this story isn’t invented. It was handed to us piece by piece by the alleged perpetrator himself. This is the kind of calculated deception we’re talking about. This is the truth that’s been systematically erased, ignored, and gaslit for decades. My resolve isn’t just strong. It’s forged, hardened by their unwavering silence. Until the heywood you blow me. Again, in a future episode. Their outright denials in the crude, desperate attempts to make me disappear.
This is not what our country was founded on. No one should wield the power to silence truth, to dictate whose voice matters and whose doesn’t. We can’t allow ourselves to become an oligarchy where the powerful few control the narrative and suppress inconvenient truths. It’s time we all stand together against such injustice, listening to each other’s truths. And supporting the voices that dare to challenge the status quo. That’s why I’m here talking to you. This podcast is born from that very defiance. I refuse complicity. Mary’s story is about more than just stolen art. It’s about systemic corruption, powerful accountability, in the very foundation of justice.
The notes speak for themselves, it’s time they are seen and analyzed by those with the power to act. I urge you to visit CrimeandCanvasPodcast.com, click on the evidence link in the top navigation to see Koch’s handwritten notes with your own eyes, then use #CrimeandCanvas Podcast to share this episode.
And demand proper forensic analysis of these crucial documents. Your decision to listen, to share, to engage is part of this fight. It’s how we bypass the silence. It’s how we ensure this story is heard in full by the public. We’re building a community for unheard voices. In our next episode, Episode Four, we’ll move beyond the notes and dive into my research and Miami discoveries will explore how I pieced together Koch’s hidden business connections, his ties to international art trading, and how all roads, keep leading to Miami. For documented evidence, visit theartworkstory.com and sign up for my newsletters. To join a wider movement for truth, visit uhv.news. unheard voices where every voice matters. Thank you for joining me on the Crime in Canvas podcast. This is Suzanne Kenney. I’m grateful for your time and your willingness to hear this story. Let’s always remember the truth is still the truth even if no one believes it.
This is Suzanne Kenney, and you found the crime and canvas podcast. My story begins with a deeply personal puzzle spanning decades, rooted in the act of betrayal against my own mother. It was in this pursuit of understanding her truth that I found myself unexpectedly entangled with the 1990 Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum art heist-a crime whispered about for years, and one I believe I’ve solved.
In Episode One, we discussed how Frederick R. Koch arrived in my mother’s life at her flea market booth in Okeechobee, Florida, selling her artwork by master artists. Welcome to Episode Two. In this episode, we’re going to dive deep into the artwork itself, specifically the pieces I personally saw and photographed. Now, my mother was sold many artworks, some of which I have never even had the chance to see, but the ones we can discuss here are truly remarkable.
I could never imagine that my life would lead me to the discovery of an unknown Vincent van Gogh, or that I would ever get to touch such a painting. Art wasn’t anything I grew up around or was particularly interested in. My only connection to it came through my mother, Mary, as she shared her incredible stories about her art encounters with Mr. Koch. In late 1991 and in early 1992.
Thanks to her journey, I’ve had the immense privilege of researching many master artists. Honestly, discovering the pieces and immersing myself in their beauty and history. has been one of the few parts of this entire story that I’ve truly enjoyed. That joy also extended to building the websites that showcase this artwork, designing booklets to highlight their authenticity, even if they’re marked by the story’s shadow. Including the book Crime and Canvas that I self-published on Amazon.
Now, as I discuss these pieces, if you want some visuals to help follow along, please visit crimeandcanvaspodcast.com. Click on the Evidence link in the top navigation. At the top of that list is the artwork, and you can follow along from there.
My mother would mention names everyone has heard of, like Picasso and Van Gogh, but also others I had never encountered. Artists like Calder, Peterson, and Manet, Kees Van Dongen, and Camille Bombois. I was in my early 20s then, young and focused on my own life. Buying and selling collectibles was simply what my mother did.
However, as years passed and my mother shared her growing difficulties in getting anyone to help her with this baffling artwork, I began to find myself drawn deeper and more interested into her art story. Now, my mother wasn’t about artwork either; she was just about selling collectibles. So this was a new experience for both of us.
The artwork that I personally saw and photographed are by the following artists, Alexander Calder, Camille Bombois, Édouard Manet, Jane Peterson, Jim Cassel, Kees Van Dongen, Pablo Picasso, and Vincent van Gogh.
Let’s begin with the Alexander Calder. My mother received five distinct pen and pencil drawings from Mr. Koch. She specifically recalled how Mr. Koch described them as doodles, and she was always very particular about stressing that they were in fact pen and pencil drawings and doodles. They depicted lively, circus-type scenes.
Now, from the handwritten notes that we’ll dive into in a later episode, we learn even more about these pieces. The notes state that these Calder drawings are from the Hokin Gallery in Palm Beach and were previously owned by Calder’s housekeeper, a Mrs. Clifford.
We do delve more into these Calder drawings in Episode Five when we discuss the authentication challenges, which we delve into several pieces, but there’s a lot more to talk about on these Calder drawings.
Next, we have a piece by Camille Bombois. From the same notes, it’s mentioned that this painting is from the Naivete period. Its visual style strongly indicates it’s an early piece, likely from when he was first learning to paint, and it’s done on board.
Moving on to Édouard Manet, this is a truly beautiful beach, ocean-side painting, a small canvas mounted on board. This particular painting is also mentioned in Mr. Koch’s notes with my mother, where it simply stated as being from Spain.
I actually created a detailed book specifically on this painting, and you can view it along with my findings on my crimeandcanvaspodcast.com and click the evidence link in the top navigation. You’ll find it there.
Now, let’s talk about the Jane Peterson. My mother received three paintings by this artist, all featuring birds. There’s a stunning snowy egret done in a watercolor on Kodak paper; a painting of a pelican, which notably has water damage and looks like it was cut directly out of its frame; and a very beautiful painting of white parakeets, which also appears to be cut as if from a frame. The Jane Peterson Snowy Egret painting, the one on Kodak paper, holds immense significance. It was the piece that Sotheby’s actually authenticated.
I believe my mother’s decision to pursue authentication with Sotheby’s is what ultimately triggered the Koch brothers figuring what their brother Fred had been up to in Okeechobee. What happens next was the mysterious hospital scene we discussed in Episode One, where Fred faked an aneurysm and his own death.
After that whole bizarre episode, since my mother couldn’t get any more direct help from Fred, she decided to go back and proceed with selling the painting with Sotheby’s. We have the signed Sotheby’s contract on the evidence link at crimeandcanvaspodcast.com, and it clearly proves the date and time period we’re claiming. This authentication was unique because as Mr. Koch explained to my mother, and Sotheby’s later confirmed, that Jane Peterson’s husband was an attorney for Kodak paper, and Kodak paper is mentioned in the handwritten notes. The attorney contracted with Kodak for them to make special, unique paper exclusively for Jane’s work, which is why Sotheby’s could authenticate it without needing the traditional provenance chain.
And why they couldn’t authenticate any of the other artwork because the others didn’t have that same special uniqueness and needed the provenance. We also have the Sotheby’s auction catalog this painting was featured in available on our evidence link on the crimeandcanvaspodcast.com website.
This painting didn’t sell at auction, and my mother still has this painting, as far as I know. Moving on to the Jim Castle. This is a print, and it probably carries the most personally interesting and memorable story of all the pieces.
Over the years, the story my mother would recount most vividly was about this very print. It is torn and stained and frankly looks like garbage. I even told her once, “Mom, just throw it away!” But she insisted, “No, this piece is the most important and valuable of all the pieces I got from him.” She said it’s the only one he gave her, not sold, and his hands were visibly shaking when he handed it to her.
It was tucked away in a folder inside of an envelope. I have starred at this print a lot over the years, trying to understand its significance, thinking, “There is no way this is worth more than the Van Gogh!” Boy, was I wrong. And in Episode Seven, we will discover why this is. Jim Cassel is even mentioned twice in Mr. Koch’s handwritten notes with my mother.
Next, we will talk about the Kees Van Dongen. This is a beautiful ink on paper, a watercolor in a sepia tone, or possibly a sepia ink wash drawing. It’s depicting a lady in a hat.
Next is the Pablo Picasso’s. Mr. Koch sold my mother four paintings or drawings by this renowned artist. Unfortunately, I only have photographs of three of them. The fourth piece was a drawing of a man and a beast. My mother was not fond of the beast, and she quickly sold it off at the flea market. Years later, the story was heard that the man who bought it went on to sell that very drawing at Sotheby’s for over $150,000. This would have been sometime in the late 1990s or early 2000s. According to the handwritten notes from these transactions, these Picasso pieces were formerly part of the collection of H. Leed and were purchased from a Marlborough House Gallery in London. The notes even specify the 1953 auction catalog numbers 22, 28, 33, and 41.
Among the pieces I saw and photographed are a 1921 pencil drawing. It’s a pencil drawing of a man, and it has a name written on it in another language. A 1936 drawing which is in the Femme Assise style. Not quite sure how to say that. That style is mentioned in the notes, and that is the style of the drawing. It says again, it originated from the Marlborough House Gallery in London.
The 1937 painting, I determined this to be a depiction of the village of Martigues, also appears to be cut as if from a frame. I created a detailed booklet specifically on this painting, outlining my findings. You can view it and explore my research by visiting crimeandcanvaspodcast.com and clicking the evidence link in the top navigation.
Okay, now let’s turn to the Vincent van Gogh. We’re going to dive a bit more in-depth into this painting and for obvious reasons. This isn’t just any piece of art; it’s potentially the most valuable, a true lost treasure that holds immense significance to our story. I’m sure Morocco would love to know of this painting. And proving its reality is the key to unlocking it all. I’ve created a detailed booklet for this painting, available on our evidence link on the crimeandcanvaspodcast.com website, where you can view it and look over my research as I discuss it here.
The Van Gogh painting is titled “The Moroccan,” a detail we know from the notes. I believe the subject is Moulay-Hassan I, the last Sultan of Morocco, and was alive during Van Gogh’s active painting career. He was born in 1831, ascended to the throne in 1873, and died in 1894, which was just a couple years after Van Gogh’s own death. aligning perfectly with the timeline. the painting also shows clear signs of having been cut from its frame.
This method of removal, where a painting is physically cut, is something we’ve observed in several of the pieces, like the Jane Peterson and Picasso paintings. It raises critical questions. Why are these artworks cut this way?
Was it, as Koch suggested for the damage, a frantic act to save them quickly from a devastating fire? Perhaps the frames were attached to walls, and couldn’t just grab them in their frame and run out? Or does it point to something else entirely? that we discover and discuss in Episode Eight.
Let’s consider the reasons Vincent van Gogh could have painted this sultan. Van Gogh’s most active painting period was from 1880 to 1890. During this time, the sultan would have been 49 to 59 years old, an age that matches the man in the painting. The man in the painting bares a strong resemblance to images found online of Moulay-Hassan I. Van Gogh was known to enjoy painting a night sky in the background. The painting’s style appears to be significantly inspired by Eugène Delacroix, who also famously painted a prior Sultan of Morocco in 1845. Van Gogh was deeply influenced by Delacroix.
According to Eugene Delacroix’s Wikipedia page, Théo van Rysselberghe, was also influenced by Delacroix. Rysselberghe not only painted Moroccan subjects, but even created a drawing of the same Sultan of Morocco, Moulay-Hassan I, in 1887.
Crucially, two direct quotes from Rysselberghe’s Wikipedia page state, “In December 1887 he was invited together with Edmond Picard to accompany a Belgian economic delegation to Meknès, Morocco. During these three months, he made many color pencil sketches. He also drew a portrait of the Sultan.” And in Paris, “he had a meeting with Theo van Gogh and managed thus to invite Vincent van Gogh to the next exhibition in Brussels.” That is where Van Gogh sold his one and only painting that he sold to Anne Boch.
In the booklet on the evidence link at crimeandcanvaspodcast.com website. In the booklet on the podcast page, you’ll find a painting by Rysselberghe titled Maria Seth at the Harmonium from 1891. This painting has remarkably similar color tones, purples and burgundies to the Van Gogh painting of the Sultan of Morocco.
It even features curtains with the exact same colors used in our Van Gogh painting. This suggests Van Gogh could have borrowed paint from Rysselbergheg, further connecting these two artists and validating the paintings’ context. I do believe this theory has been used to solve other Van Gogh’s paintings where he has borrowed paint, whether it was from Rysselberghe or another artist I don’t recall.
This Vincent van Gogh painting was sold by Mr. Koch to my mother, Mary, in 1992. Its significance is underscored by its multiple mentions in the handwritten notes from Koch’s visits with Mary. We also know this painting has undergone restoration work at some point, visible under a black light. One would naturally think such an investment in restoration would only be made for a painting of significant value.
As you’ll remember, some of this artwork arrived with damage, which Koch told my mother was from being saved from a fire at an art storage warehouse. That fire, its timing, and what it means for this case is a crucial mystery we’ll explore in depth in Episode Six. What it solves is astounding.
Through my mother’s story, I’ve had the unexpected privilege of delving into the lives and works of many master artists, including this incredible Van Gogh painting. But even amidst that beauty, the stark reality of the deception and the immense injustice tied to these very pieces is undeniable. And that injustice is why I stand. This is not what our country was founded on. No one should wield the power to silence truth, to dictate whose voice matters. That’s why I’m here talking to you. This podcast is born from that very defiance.
I might never claim a courtroom victory, but those who follow this story know I won’t give up. I refuse complicity. Mary’s story is more than stolen art. It’s about systemic corruption, powerful accountability, and the very foundation of justice. Your decision to listen, to share, to engage is how we bypass the silence.
It’s how we ensure the story is heard in full by the public. We’re building a community for unheard voices. In our next episode, episode three, we’ll dive into the notes connection, exploring the handwritten notes from Frederick Koch’s visits with my mother and how those seemingly simple details reveal crucial links.
For documented evidence, visit theartworkstory.com and sign up for my newsletters. To join a wider movement for truth, visit UHV.News, Unheard Voices, where every voice matters, and submit your story.
Thank you for joining me on the crimeandcanvaspodcast.com. This is Suzanne Kenney. I’m grateful for your time and your willingness to hear this story. Let’s always remember, the truth is still the truth, even if no one believes it.
This is Suzanne Kenney, and you’ve found the Crime in Canvas podcast. My story begins with a deeply personal puzzle spanning decades, rooted in an act of betrayal against my own mother. It was in the pursuit of understanding her truth that I found myself unexpectedly entangled with the 1990 Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum Art Heist, a crime whispered about for years, and one I believe I’ve solved.
It all started around November of 1991 at a flea market booth in Okeechobee, Florida, with my mother Mary and a man calling himself Ed Koch. When he introduced himself, he made sure to pronounce it like Koch, “as in the mayor of New York,” he said. But here’s the twist: it wasn’t until over a decade later, in 2010, when I finally uncovered his true identity.
I learned his name was actually pronounced Coke. This subtle phonetic deception was just his first of many clever ways of being himself while simultaneously not being himself. This man, it turns out, is a billionaire trying to make right with the art world—a detail we’ll delve into in a later episode. He first approached my mother trying to sell her a painting.
She wasn’t interested in buying anything. She didn’t have the money and desperately needed sales that day just to pay her bills. He insisted, saying he’d leave the painting with her to try and sell, and he’d be back at the end of the day. He returned, and she hadn’t sold it. She told him all she had was $3 in her pocket and she couldn’t buy the painting. She even suggested, “You can go ask other vendors. They might want to purchase it.” But he said, “No, I’m selling it to you.” And for just $3, she became the owner of that Jane Peterson painting.
This man continued to visit her over the next three months, selling her many pieces of artwork, all for just a couple of dollars each. He would share stories of his life with her. I want to pause here and remember, this was the early ’90s; cell phones and the internet were in their infancy. The cell phones then didn’t have internet on them like they do today. Google was created in 1998, and Yahoo was created in 1994. She said when he visited with her, he’d look like a poor person, that she thought he was homeless. His hair would be scuffled, and his clothes would be scruffy and disorganized.
But the other vendors told her he was staying in the RV park across the street. This small city of Okeechobee is mostly made up of mobile homes and many RV parks. He was staying in a brand new Airstream trailer. This at the time was the high-end RV to have. She said he told her stories of lawsuits with a brother, a great dislike for a twin brother.
He talked about a love of art with his mother, how he and his mother were starting a museum. She thought this museum was in Coral Springs in the Miami area. He talked about that area often. He showed my mother a newspaper article with a photograph of his mother. The article was about the city giving his mother an award, thanking her for something. His mother was standing in front of a Rolls Royce in the photo. He talked about yachts and dishes trimmed with gold. But remember, he was dressed poorly, so my mother didn’t know what to believe.
She said she enjoyed his visits and would look forward to them. She would even go through McDonald’s and pick up a cup of coffee and breakfast sandwich for him on her way to her booth. With his poor appearance, she thought he could use the meal. She felt he needed someone to talk to, and the stories he shared were from a life she could never imagine. Some of the artwork he sold her I never got to see. She was selling pieces at the flea market. I know he sold her artwork by Vincent van Gogh, Pablo Picasso, Édouard Manet, Alexander Calder, Jane Peterson, Kees van Dongen, Camille Bombois, and the Jim Cassel print, selling her the Van Gogh last and telling her to go retire, get out of the flea market. Some of this is documented in the handwritten notes, referencing things like the Sultan of Morocco, Gallery Van Nays of Paris, France, formally collection of H. Leed, Alexander Calder’s housekeeper, Mrs. Clifford, and the Hokin Gallery in Palm Beach, the Marlborough House Gallery with actual catalog numbers.
One day, I remember my mom and I were discussing the Van Gogh painting, and she told me the name of the man in the painting is “The Moroccan.” I said, “How do you know that?”
She said, “He told me and it’s written in the notes.” I said, “What notes?” She said he would have her take notes of the things he was telling her, saying, “Write this down.” And sometimes he would write in the notes too. He told her the names of museums and their addresses from the top of his head. Again, this was a time before cell phones and the internet was in its infancy.
The notes we go over in another episode. Like I said, the Van Gogh painting was the last painting he sold her. He was supposed to bring her a Maurice de Vlaminck painting next. The name is mentioned in the notes. When I asked my mother about it, that was her answer.
He never returned. Instead, what happens next is, it had been a couple of weeks since my mother had seen Mr. Koch. She had even started asking around the market if anyone had seen him around. Then one day, a lady she thought may have been a nurse from Raulerson Hospital came and found her at her booth, telling her Mr. Koch was in the hospital with an aneurysm and had been transferred via helicopter to St. Mary’s Hospital in West Palm Beach, Florida. This hospital is about five minutes from Palm Beach.
Before continuing, I want to state, between his last visit and this nurse arriving, my mother had gone to Sotheby’s to start selling this artwork and told them her story of this Mr. Koch. We will get into that story in the next episode. I also want to state that they didn’t have each other’s phone numbers. This man didn’t know where my mother lived. I find it odd that they can find my mother, but they can’t find his family. So my mother closed up her booth and she went and visited him that very day at the hospital. He was in ICU, hooked up to a respirator, but awake and very alert. A nurse took my mother aside and asked her if she knew how to contact his family. My mother said that unfortunately she only knew that he had a twin brother, but they didn’t speak. Turning her attention back to Mr. Koch, she was surprised at how alert he was for being in ICU.
He was even able to communicate with her with his hands and eyes, such as giving her a double thumbs up. When my mother called back a few days later, she was told he was gone. She was so surprised, as he had seemed so alert when she visited with him. Within a few weeks, the Airstream trailer he’d been staying at was removed from the RV park. She had never been to his trailer. She had only found out from locals he was staying there.
Knowing we’re going to go back and discuss the whole Sotheby’s and the Jane Peterson story in another episode, around the time Mr. Koch passed away, my mother got the Jane Peterson authenticated by Sotheby’s in Palm Beach. It went up for auction later that same year, 1992, and unfortunately didn’t sell. She hoped that it would be the catalyst for the remaining artwork to sell.
From that point forward, everything she tried to do with the artwork was always met with disappointment. Again, we will get into this more in future episodes. We couldn’t go back and question him, and the internet was in its infancy then. It became very hard to research. All we had is my mother’s story and the random, scattered notes they both wrote during his visits.
My mother had always said that Mr. Koch had been telling her he was going to help her sell the artwork, but once he passed away, it was painfully obvious that would never happen. She was hesitant to do it by herself because she wasn’t sure if she believed his story, and her own life kept her focused on other matters. When she would work on the artwork, it was always a one-step forward, two-steps backward kind of thing, always leaving her defeated and deflated. What is supposed to be this amazing story was always anything but. She would find many years passing by before working on the artwork again.
2002, and some artwork got sold on eBay. 2009, which brings us to where we are today. In 2010, we discovered Fred hadn’t died, and his full name is Frederick Robinson Koch. I discuss this more in another episode. I want to follow up on the 2002 eBay sales. I sold a Picasso ink sketch and a Jane Peterson painting. I have a copy of the Picasso eBay listing, and it shows in 2002 we were telling the same story. It states it was purchased from an Ed Koch at a flea market booth in Okeechobee, Florida. I even have my 2002 Alexander Calder documents where I tried to get them authenticated through the foundation. We’re telling the same story. I discuss that more in another episode.
In 2009, when we start this again, was when my mother gifted me the Alexander Calders on my birthday and asked me to help her research it again. If I could find a way to put her story and pictures of the artwork on the internet to see if anyone could help her, that website started as lookingforedkoch.com. And once I discovered Frederick R. Koch was the name, I changed the website to theartworkstory.com.
You know, as I talk about the story, as I lay out the initial pieces of the puzzle, and as we finish the very first official episode of Crime and Canvas, I’m struck by a profound fear. I’ve fought for 15 long years to honor my mother, Mary, to bring light to the truths she deserves. But there’s a quiet dread that even this podcast, this platform, might not even be able to break through the deeply entrenched bias, that it might just cause more sadness, more disappointment. It’s a heavy fear to carry, especially when you’ve poured your entire being into something for so long.
The strange existence living in these two parallel worlds: in one, I’m Suzanne, the web developer, navigating clients, managing assistants, where every email gets a response, where my expertise is sought after and my efforts praised. And in the other world, the world of the Gardner heist, I’m often met with silence, dismissed, or even, as you’ve heard, subjected to outright contempt. It’s like being laughed at, as if this billion-dollar crime, this profound injustice, is somehow a joke. But the joke is truly on those who choose to believe a false narrative, who choose complicity over conscience. When people tell me, “Because of WHO this is, Suzanne, never be heard,” those words genuinely frighten me. They try to convince me to give up, to be complicit, but that’s not who I am.
Our country constantly celebrates our freedom, our right to a voice, our right to be heard. Yet when the truth involves unimaginable wealth and power, everyone around me seems so quick to run away, to say, “Nope, that will never be exposed.”
That isn’t what I was taught our country was founded on. No one in our nation should possess that kind of power to silence another, to dictate whose truth matters and whose doesn’t. And that’s why I keep standing. That’s why I’m here talking to you. This podcast is born from that very defiance. I might never claim an official victory in a courtroom, but those around me now know I am a person who won’t give up.
I refuse to be complicit. This story, Mary’s story, is not just about stolen art; it’s about systemic corruption, about the powerful being held accountable, and about the very foundation of justice. I’m here to share my truth, to connect with you, the listener, because every voice matters. Your decision to listen, to share, to engage, is a part of this fight. It’s how we bypass the silence. It’s how we make sure this story is heard, in full, by the public. We’re building a community for unheard voices. So as we continue this journey together, know that your presence, your willingness to listen, means everything. Thank you for joining me.
In the next episode, Episode Two, we will discuss the artwork that was sold to my mother in more detail. We’ll go over the checklist which we discuss in Episode Seven that leads us to solving the largest art heist in history. Visit theartworkstory.com and sign up to receive my newsletters that document my journey.
I started a website, UHV.News, which means Unheard Voices, to help others going through similar struggles or to praise someone in their community. Visit UHV.News to share your story and join the movement for Unheard Voices. Thank you for listening to the Crime in Canvas Podcast.
Thank you for joining me on crimeandcanvaspodcast.com. This is Suzanne Kenney. I’m grateful for your time and your willingness to hear this story. Let’s always remember, the truth is still the truth, even if no one believes it.
