The documentary was called Nine-tenths of the Law and dealt with the struggle between Mary Ann McInnis, Bruce Flonta, and Louise Wykoff to take possession of three missing paintings that had been discovered, lost, and recovered thirty-five years after Randolph McInnis painted them. Not only that, it spent time examining the uber-warehouses called free ports that were filled with billions of dollars of art, fraud, and scandal. It was the free ports that the talk show hosts most wanted to talk about when father and daughter did the rounds to promote the film.
Nine-tenths of the Law made just under thirteen million dollars, which put it in the Top Twenty-five highest-grossing documentaries and, as I predicted, it was nominated for an Academy Award. It lost, however, to a film about the Holocaust. The expression on Jennica’s face when she heard the news was identical to how she looked when M. A. had told her, “You are a nice piece of ass.”
I’ve always maintained that the film would have won the Oscar if only the Mehrens had revealed that the paintings were forgeries. It’s possible that they didn’t know, however. I didn’t tell them and I doubted Louise or Perrin would have confessed. On the other hand, it’s possible that everybody knew including Mary Ann and Flonta, but they didn’t want to give up the benefits that three undiscovered McInnis canvases gave them, specifically the overwhelming interest in all the other work by Randolph McInnis that they owned or controlled.
Then there was the film’s happy-sappy ending with Mary Ann, Flonta, and Louise all hugging Perrin Stewart and one another at the black tie gala when they finally put their differences aside and donated the three paintings to the newly opened Randolph McInnis Wing of the City of Lakes Art Museum.
Part of me was amused and another part was outraged by all this. But then again, as far as I could determine, no money actually changed hands, so the criminology major part was satisfied.
My contribution to all this nonsense was not examined in the film, although both father and daughter tried mightily to convince me to participate.
Jennica told me that her relationship with Alden lasted until their third official date. That’s when he began pulling rank on her. He was twenty-four and had both a bachelor’s degree and a job while she was twenty and still in school, so obviously he should make all the decisions. My first thought when I heard that, Who did Alden think he was dating?
Peg Younghans tried for an insanity defense because, let’s face it, she was a few bubbles off center, yet nothing came of it. Eventually she pleaded guilty to second-degree murder—144 months, out in eight years if everything goes her way, and let’s forget all her other crimes. The body-cam footage that convinced Peg—and her lawyer—to take the deal never saw the inside of a courtroom. Nor was it reported in the Cook County News-Herald or anywhere else. Certainly, it didn’t end up in the documentary. I’ve always wondered about that. It made me speculate that Sheriff Peter Wurzer—yes, he was elected sheriff—might have engaged in some selective enforcement for the benefit of Louise and maybe the others, too. But what did I know?
Eventually, Nina and I snuck over to the City of Lakes to see for ourselves what the fuss was all about. I stared at the paintings for a long time. I tried to get them to speak to me the way that Perrin said the paintings sometimes spoke to her. After a few minutes …
“Do you hear that?” I asked.
“What?” Nina said.
“Never mind.”
“What?”
“I thought I heard laughter.”