The letterhead was that of the Gallerie dell’Accademia of Venice, done in fine script, brown ink on off-white paper. It was exactly what Helena had requested.
To Whom It May Concern:
I have been consulted by Helena Marsh regarding a painting representing Christ entering Jerusalem. While it is indeed a fine example of Renaissance art, it is my opinion, based on fifty years studying the art of Tiziano Vecellio, known as Titian, that it is not the work of that artist. There is no documentation ascertaining its origins despite the fact that Tiziano Vecellio’s work was documented during his lifetime as one of the premier artists of his century. Nor has subsequent scholarship mentioned the existence of such a work. The Titian Committee, which spent a decade researching all of Titian’s paintings, fails to classify it or even mention it in its final volumes.
It is difficult to ascertain without submitting the painting to laboratory tests who the artist is. It is possible that it is the work of Tiziano Vecellio’s studio after his demise, but it is more likely that the painting was executed by one of the minor Venetian painters who followed him and tried, in vain, I might add, to fully emulate his style. It is to be borne in mind that Tiziano Vecellio was not only the best-known artist of his time, but that his work was valued more highly than the work of contemporary artists, thus making imitation a lucrative endeavour for dealers and artists alike.
Yours truly,
Dottore Giorgio Matamoros, PhD,
Director Emeritus,
Gallerie dell’Accademia,
Venezia, Italia
She sent copies separately by DHL to Budapest: to Dr. Ferenc Kis on Váci Street, Mr. János Krestin in Buda, and to Mr. Piotr Denisovich Grigoriev, care of the Gresham. She had no idea where Azarov was staying, but sent his copy care of the Ukrainian Embassy in Budapest. They would make finding him a priority. She had read in the Süddeutsche Zeitung that he was running his businesses from Montenegro, because Ukraine had become dangerous for oligarchs, except those connected with the president.
Later, she would deliver Géza Márton’s copy of the letter, personally. Márton had told her that he wanted the painting even if it cost him more than Krestin’s original price. At his age, he had said, money had little meaning. He was not interested in accumulating more, and was even less interested in his financial legacy. He had already given fine endowments to the Toronto Public Library and the Art Gallery of Ontario and had not asked for any public acknowledgement in return. His two children, he said, could fend for themselves. They had each been given a trust fund and every opportunity to make whatever they wished of their lives.
However, the original price of the painting had doubled in only a few days. The one hundred million price tag could be too much even for Márton.