This is Suzanne Kenney, and you’re listening to the Crime & Canvas podcast. Today, we’re going to talk about the hardest part of this entire journey. It’s hard for me to decide where to even begin, because going over all the rejections, all the closed doors, is incredibly difficult. It’s hard to stay excited about this amazing story that my mother was part of, when every person, every method, every avenue I’ve pursued has been met with such unyielding resistance.

Let’s be clear from the outset: I am referencing billion-dollar art crimes, multi-million dollar artwork. If I were lying, if I were trying to peddle forged artwork, I would be committing a federal crime. 

I would expect a cease and desist order not only from the Koch brothers, but from Cambridge University, from every institution whose name I’ve invoked. The fact that I have not received a single one, despite my persistence for over a decade, speaks volumes.

The challenges I’ve gone through are extensive. They include reaching out to Robert Wittman, a former FBI agent who created the FBI’s art division, and Julian Radcliffe of the Art Loss Register – a connection we’ll discuss more in Episode Six. I’ve contacted the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, which we’ll delve into in Episode Seven, and the Media, which is the focus of Episode Eight. Cambridge University, as you heard, is a key part of Episode Nine. And then there are the art experts and art foundations – a topic so frustrating, I may need a follow-up episode just for them.

In the early years, as I was trying to connect Mr. Koch to the art, I was also meticulously digging apart those notes they wrote. I had this long wall, covered with evidence taped up, helping me tie things together as I went. This story evolves with so many layers, reaching out to such a variety of people and places: John Olsen, artists’ foundations, art experts, law enforcement in America and London and the news media. For years, no one offered any assistance. In the very beginning, Julian Radcliffe and Robert Wittman seemed like they were going to help. What a profound disappointment they have been.

Years of trying, giving up, and then trying again persisted. We pursued every possible way to get the artwork authenticated and sold, but it was much harder than anticipated. No one would spare a moment to listen or bother to help us. This wasn’t just a story; this was our lives. 

My mother had millions of dollars worth of art, the van Gogh alone would require an armed vehicle and no one, not even the authorities, would give her the time of day. And for what? Why? Why couldn’t we sell this artwork?

After trying for so long and not being close to successful, it began to eat away at me, just as it had my mother. There was so much I wanted to know, so many “whys” that kept me up at night. 

For a while, we came to the conclusion that we’d never know what actually happened. The lack of technology during those early years made things much more difficult.

When we first started researching this story, you couldn’t just pull out your phone and type in “Koch” or “Coke” we were looking for Koch when we first started, right? and get an instant response. No list of all the articles his family has been in, or where he lives, or a page of his achievements, would pop up after a second of typing. It wasn’t that easy back then, not like it is now.

Because of this, and being constantly told “No” by seemingly everyone who could have answers, I really believed we had settled on just owning some pretty artwork. It wasn’t until July of 2010 when my mother gave me the Calder drawings for my birthday and asked me to put the remaining artwork on eBay and sell it for her. 

As we’ve discussed in a previous episode, we’d already sold the Picasso and a Jane Peterson on eBay in 2002, but not for as much as they should have sold for. 

So when my mother came to me in 2010 I asked her if we could continue the search – just one more time. I wanted to make sure we’d actually done everything we could to figure out Mr. Koch’s story. I wanted her to be able to finally celebrate the truth of her story. Sell the artwork for the proper value that he promised her. She wasn’t ready to completely give up either and agreed.

 We had hoped to find out who this man was, so as to let his family and the world know the generosity of the man. At this point, my children were much older, and I had a bit more time. Technology was beginning to prove more helpful in our research, so I was excited. We began a website called Looking-For-Ed-Koch.com, which was intended to find out whoever this Koch guy actually was and to display pictures of the art to see if anyone had information on them. After putting together that Ed was Frederick – the website went on to become TheArtworkStory.com. 

From 2010 to 2012, I devoted most of my free days to searching for the truth. Who was the mysterious stranger really? Why did his death seem so strange? Why couldn’t we sell the artwork? Why did he even decide to sell the artwork in the first place? Why did he sell her the pieces that he did? What do those handwritten notes mean? And why had he sold them to my mother of all people?

My determination is not only to expose the crimes but also to expose the efforts I have made to be heard and how far the corruption goes. All the way to the FBI, most levels of the Government, Agencies that are formed to solve crimes, all Media outlets, Museums, and even Universities. For me, the cover-up is more troubling than the actual crimes I have uncovered. I read articles every day that share people’s opinions and theories on all kinds of topics. The information I am sharing is true and from actual encounters – yet I am ignored. I keep hoping I will find someone somewhere to finally help me. As Lady Gaga says – It only takes one person.

Early January 2011, I was watching TV when a show came on featuring a man named Robert Wittman. He was the former Senior Investigator and Founder of the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s National Art Crime Team. He now owns a security and recovery consulting firm to help recover lost or stolen artwork and artifacts. The TV show he was on discussed his success in recovering artwork. So, I contacted Robert Wittman through his website. He seemed to be the best and most reliable option at the time. We exchanged emails over the next several months. Why would I reach out to this man if I was a fraud or con person? That doesn’t make sense. Only someone seeking true help would reach out to this man.

In December of 2011, I saw on his website that he was going to be speaking at an event on February 11th, 2012, about forty-five minutes south of where I lived. I emailed and asked him if we could meet at the event. Though he didn’t reply, I went to the event regardless. Not long into arriving at the event with my husband and adult son, we found out that not just one, but three of the Koch brothers were also there: Charles, and twins David and William. Of course, there was no Frederick in sight. Seeing his brothers made me excited. 

I’d been looking at photos and thinking about this family for so long, and now three of the Koch brothers were just somehow at the same event as me – I almost couldn’t believe it.

Things turned even stranger when I spun to go back down the path we just came from and nearly collided with David Koch himself. Fear and shock took hold – it all felt like it was in slow motion as I mumbled a “sorry” even though he’d been the one to run into me. David Koch never said a thing; he just laughed. He quickly continued on his way, leaving no time for a conversation. My husband said something about it being a strange accident, but it didn’t seem that much like an accident to me. One of the thousands of people attending, he ran into me? The person who has his brother’s art and has been digging into their past? No, this was no accident. He wanted his presence to be known. He wanted us to know he was there, that he and his brothers were there, and that they saw us.

After that, we went on into the exhibit and looked at all the vendors’ art displays from the Museums and other artists’ collections. The three Koch brothers remained near the exhibit room exits, making sure we saw all three of them were there. When we went to Mr. Wittman’s talk, it was packed with people standing against the walls just to squeeze in to hear this man speak. I’d been saving a seat for my son, who was coming from another exhibit, but some lady wanted the seat more. I kept explaining that the seat was for my son, but she would come back every few minutes to ask if she could sit there. I finally gave it up to an elderly woman.

After Mr. Wittman’s speech, I used the bathroom and I saw that lady again – the one who wanted my son’s seat. I didn’t think much of it then, not until we were in a short line to talk to Mr. Wittman, and I saw that woman for the third time. I was with my son in line waiting to speak with Mr. Wittman as a younger man walked up out of nowhere and was acting extremely nervous. He’d had an accordion-style briefcase on wheels and seemed to be struggling with it. He then placed it in front of us and walked off without it. My son and I were standing about twenty feet away from Mr. Wittman and a foot away from the briefcase. I wondered if it was left there for Mr. Wittman since there had been no one else in line around us, and it seemed like very strange behavior. 

I looked over at my husband to see if he saw what just happened. He was standing in front of the window, and there beside him was another man staring at me with the most hate I’ve ever seen. It was making me uncomfortable. He looked so angry I will never forget it. I even motioned for my son to look at how the man was glaring at me. 

However, slowly it all started to come together. The Koch brothers were there, so this man must have been John Olsen. The man I had conversed with over email about Frederick. 

Thinking it might be him, I straightened my stance and kept my arms at my side and stared back in a gesture to let him know I was not going to be intimidated. And that’s when I saw her again. The lady who had wanted my son’s seat so badly was rushing to the angry man and ushered him away hastily, like he wasn’t supposed to be there, almost like she had heard me even though she had been in another room. Why had not one, but three people in the span of an hour acted so strange? I hadn’t even spoke with Mr Wittman yet.

 Later, I even considered that the briefcase might have had a listening device, and that’s why it was left there in front of us like he could catch us saying something that might contradict our story, while I am not concerned about that part – we will never know if it had a listening device. I didn’t let any of this stop me though. I still spoke with Mr. Wittman.

While we had previously talked over email, I still explained my mother’s story in detail and showed him printed out photos of the Koch brothers that I had shown to my mother. The photos included older and younger ones of Frederick, and I told him my mother recognized Frederick as the man from the market who’d sold her the artwork. Mr. Wittman still seemed suspicious when he asked me if it was the younger photos that my mother recognized, and I confirmed it was. I also showed him a printed copy of the eBay listing for one of the Picassos I’d sold in 2002, which he’d snatched from my hands to look at. It almost felt like he’d tried to catch me in a lie, like maybe he thought I had bought the painting from eBay and I’d accidentally brought the wrong paper. I don’t know. I hadn’t though. 

There was nothing to hide and nothing I was saying was untruthful. I took the eBay document back so I could show him where in the eBay listing’s description it was stated the painting was sold to my mother in 1992/1993 by a man named Mr. Koch to show him that even in 2002 we were telling the same story. While we had the year off 1992/1993 and it was actually 1991/1992. When I sold the Picasso painting on eBay was in 2002 and this was my mother’s story. But afterwards as we discussed the timeline I realized I was off by a year. My first child, my son was born January 1991 and we remember spending his first thanksgiving at the house my mother was staying in at the time she purchased this artwork. 

Back to Mr. Wittman I wasn’t here to waste his time with a fake story. He was then curious how much I’d been able to sell it for, which I’d told him was not nearly enough, and showed him the price on the eBay document; it was just over a thousand dollars.

 I explained how we almost sold the rest of the artwork on eBay, but I really felt like it deserved more, just like Mr. Koch had wanted – that they needed to be authenticated and sold properly. He nodded in agreement. I also had the printed out photo copies of the artwork and had them laid out on the floor before him, and he looked them over and asked if I’d sent the photos of the artwork to him. Of course, I had. I then showed him the Sotheby’s authentication documents for the Jane Peterson Snowy Egret and how the 1992 date proved the time period, and he again nodded in agreement. I explained how we think the London fire (which we discuss more in the next episode) is connected to the damage on the paintings 

And what my mother remembers from the hospital visit with Mr. Koch. I told him everything.

His response in a stern voice was, “Look, there are no crimes with your mother’s artwork!” It was like a slap in the face. 

Again, another person telling me my own family’s story is wrong. So if there’s no crimes with this artwork that means it’s not forged. Wouldn’t you think? He had even stated you don’t have that much invested in it.

I made sure to add how I’d already spent several thousand dollars at this point between travel fees, hiring experts to give their opinion on the artwork, getting the Calder’s scientifically tested (which resulted in an inconclusive answer), and so forth. I wanted him to know that this wasn’t about money; it was about the lengths we have gone to get this artwork authenticated. During our conversation, I’d also told him that John Olsen said in an email that he sent pictures of the artwork to the vice chairman at Sotheby’s, to which Mr. Wittman narrowed his eyes and asked why he would do that? Of course, my answer was, “I don’t know.” I didn’t really know all of it at this point. That’s why I was wanting his help, though his only responses were stares off into the distance while he was thinking. I’d said all this, even with the Koch brothers walking around, because I wanted answers, I wanted help. I wanted someone to finally be on our side and see all the hard work I had put into this. After seeing the Koch brothers there that day I was fully prepared to confront the Koch brothers at that event, and I’d hoped they were there to get answers from me, but to my dismay, they never tried to talk. They were only there to intimidate me. With the FBI’s assistance. Mind you. It all seemed so surreal. Running into the Koch brothers. Seeing John Olsen. Who I believe was John Olsen. Talking to Mr. Wittman. It made it so much more real than it had been, and I knew I couldn’t give up. This story had to be solved, if not for my mother, then for me. I had to keep going.

A few weeks after my February 11, 2012, meeting with Mr. Wittman, I found an interesting article, one dated March 3rd, 2012, that starts out saying that, “Of all the storied paintings in William Koch’s collection of Western art, his favorite, the one he would rush into a burning building to save, is not a Remington, not a Russell, not a Wyeth. It is, rather, one of the most obscure works in his collection.” I know this might seem like a perfectly normal quote, but after the run-in with the Koch brothers and having talked to Robert Wittman specifically about the art that my mother had and how this man arrived in her life just barely a month after this fire… Saying the damage was from it being saved from a fire at an art storage warehouse… Well – it seemed too weird of a coincidence to ignore. They’ve used newspapers to send a message before, like the obituary and then the art heist letter written to the Isabella Gardner Museum in 1994, which I talk about in a future episode. So why wouldn’t they use an interview from the Palm Beach Post as a convenient way to send a message? A message to my family that they know I reported their brother? The specific painting that they refer to in the interview is a Philip Goodwin that Koch calls “The Marlboro Man,” though the real title is “A Pause on the Journey,” which might be symbolic for wanting to put a roadblock in our journey to solve the potential crimes of his family. Or it could really just be his favorite painting – we might never know.

Some of this story is speculation; however, the facts align, and the story is undeniable. There is too much that can’t just be a coincidence. The other day I was watching an episode of Nancy Grace, and she made a statement that struck a chord with me. She stated “there are No Coincidences in Criminal Law”. It made me take note – that the coincidences I am sharing have actual legal standing.

As mentioned in a previous episode that we found out later that one of the drawings my mother traded while she was working at the market was actually able to be sold. It was a Picasso I never got a photo of, but she’d traded it for a painting from a local artist, and at the time, she hadn’t fully understood the value of it and really didn’t like it since it was an ink drawing of a beast that she found off-putting. She was glad to see it gone, but when we found out that the man went on to get it authenticated and sold it with Christie’s for one hundred and fifty thousand dollars, we were… may I say jealous? They wouldn’t authenticate her artwork, but they’d sell his and for a decent price? If my mother had managed to sell that Picasso or a larger known piece like the Vincent van Gogh, then her story would be told everywhere, and the Koch family and their criminal deeds would have been discovered. My mother knew too much compared to the vendor she’d traded artwork with. We’d even tried to contact him regarding how he was able to sell that Picasso; however, unfortunately, he had passed from cancer before we could get any information. Just this fact alone proves how my mother was and never will be allowed to sell any of this artwork.

While Sotheby’s was her first challenge, they wouldn’t be the last. My mother had gotten an attorney, and the attorney was going to take the Van Gogh painting to the Vincent van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam, but the day Mr. Koch sold her that painting was the day he told her that it was one of the most valuable pieces of artwork – that it was extremely dangerous to own. She was afraid to travel so far with it and didn’t trust the attorney to take it overseas, and so it stayed tucked away. I would like to mention that this was the last painting he sold her before the hospital scene. However, around 1995, she did visit experts. She saw a lady in Palm Beach who strongly believed all the paintings were real and even placed the Alexander Calders in some acid-free paper to protect them. My mother even kept the artwork in a dark, sealed location as well to preserve them as much as possible. When I eventually brought the artwork to the Calder Foundation in 2002, one of the reasons they had no interest in authenticating the drawings was that they didn’t look old enough – likely because of how well my mother had stored them. In 2011, I took the Calders again to the foundation, and this time we had the note written between Mr. Koch and my mother. The Alexander Calder note had been misplaced and was later found in the Sotheby’s catalog. And that’s why we had it subsequently. The note states the Calders came from the Hokin Gallery in Palm Beach and had belonged to Calder’s housekeeper, Mrs. Clifford. Mr. Rower from the foundation still refused to authenticate the drawings. When they were age tested around 2012, it was explained that the paper was the correct age, but the ink was inconclusive, which proved difficult when trying to get them authenticated.

I want to discuss the ink used in those Calder drawings. The scientific tests deemed the ink ‘inconclusive’ for dating purposes. But let’s unpack what that truly means. These ink drawings are dated 1930. And in the 1930s, ink was just becoming commercially available. This was an era when ink technology was just developing. Manufacturers would often provide their newest pens, with their early ink formulations, directly to artists for their input. So, the very fact that this ink resists modern dating methods isn’t a failure; it’s a powerful indicator of its age. A forger today would use modern ink, which is easily traceable and dateable. The inconclusive result, far from being a problem, points directly to the ink’s genuine antiquity, further validating the artwork and its connection to that specific period.

Between that and Lloyd’s of London, Julian Radcliffe, Robert Wittman, and the FBI, I was faced with many roadblocks. Even the Isabella Stewart Museum wouldn’t cooperate. I sent out so many newsletters, called so many people, researched, read so many articles. Mailed binders out. Mailed out booklets. Self published my book on Amazon. It was endless, and still my journey to have my mother’s art story be known is ongoing.

My journey has been complicated by the deliberate tactics of online trolls. Their goal is to create emotional turmoil and prevent progress. The ‘Heywood Jablomey’ signature, on my change.org petition a crude and sexually suggestive act of harassment from someone just an hour away from the museum, serves as a perfect, undeniable illustration of this. Ironically, their attempt to make me ‘go away’ only provided further proof of the desperate forces at play, confirming I’m on the right track.

My theories on Crime & Canvas are backed by documented facts, unlike the unverified mobster narratives that dominate the news. The mystery of why this man engaged with my mother remains, yet my sustained research proves its validity. Dismissive tactics only confirm I’m exposing deep-seated corruption. We must demand accountability. 

And to anyone who might be quick to offer a negative opinion or dismissive statement: you cannot truly do so, not fairly, unless you have read and genuinely understood all the evidence I present. My findings are meticulously documented, and they demand a full review before judgment. My claims are backed by facts, not speculation. And actually everyone that fully reads all of my evidence comes to my side and believes it. My claims are backed by facts not speculation.

It’s time to demand that those who claim to seek justice actually do their job. It’s time to force a reckoning with the truth. I urge you to take action. Email editors@propublica.org to demand coverage of my 15-year fight for justice. Tell them you’ve heard the evidence on the Crime & Canvas Podcast. Use #CrimeAndCanvasPodcast when you share this episode.

Your choice to listen, to share, to engage, is how we dismantle their silence. It’s how we ensure this story, in its entirety, reaches the public. We are building a community where every unheard voice finds its strength.

And remember, if you’re going through a similar struggle, if you have a voice that needs to be heard, visit uhv.news. I started uhv.news because every voice matters. It’s a place for others going through similar struggles or to praise someone in their community.

 Next, in Episode 6: The 1991 Fire Tantrum & The Timeline, we delve into the fire in London and its significance to the timeline of events. 

Thank you for joining me on the Crime and 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.