14

The Art of the Heist

With alarm bells ringing, pulses racing, hearts thumping and voices raised, the peace and tranquillity of the Dumfriesshire countryside was shattered. What the commotion signified was the most significant art heist in the history of Scotland and, to this day, the men responsible remain at large and the mystery of the painting known as The Madonna of the Yarnwinder is unsolved.

It was on 27 August 2003 that Drumlanrig Castle’s place in history changed forever. Once best known as the seat of the Duke of Buccleuch, in an instant, it became notorious as the scene of a crime which sent shockwaves reverberating around the world. The painting was said to be worth anything up to £50 million, but to the family from whom it had been wrenched away it was utterly priceless.

The scenic castle, a popular summer attraction, had just opened for another day. Tour guide Alison Russell, just 25 years old at the time, was doing the job she loved when her life was turned upside down. As she welcomed guests to the stunning surroundings at 11 a.m. on a Wednesday morning, it turned out two of the day’s visitors were not out for an innocent sightseeing excursion. Instead, they were preparing for a terrifying attack on the staff and property at Drumlanrig.

As Russell went about her work, one of the men approached her from behind and menacingly placed his hand over her mouth. He was calm and composed, ordering the terrified guide to get down on the floor. She was told if she did not follow orders she would be killed. The assailants, one armed with an axe, proceeded to carefully remove a painting from the spot where it took pride of place. That painting was The Madonna of the Yarnwinder, by Leonardo da Vinci. Alarms were triggered as soon as the frame was pulled from the wall, causing staff from other areas of the castle to hurry to the Staircase Gallery to find out what was happening. At least one of those on duty that day was in her 70s and the sight of the axe-wielding raider understandably caused her great distress.

Unperturbed by being centre of attention, the culprits made their escape through a nearby window and made a run for it. Unbeknown to them, gardener John Chrystie was working in the castle grounds near to where they appeared, clutching the distinctive painting, and the brave estate worker gave chase. Chrystie had recognised the precious heirloom being carried by one of the men and knew how much it meant to his employers. Without a second thought, the 50-year-old set off in pursuit of the group but he was forced to back off when one produced the axe and warned him off continuing on their trail. Regardless of the value of the art, the clear and violent threat was a reminder of the potential high price that would be paid by anyone who crossed what was clearly a ruthless and efficient gang.

The men, with the da Vinci safely in their possession, jumped into an ageing white Volkswagen Golf GTI and sped off into the Dumfriesshire countryside, negotiating the winding rural roads as they bulleted away from the castle on what transpired was a well-rehearsed and well-thought-out exit route. Witnesses saw the getaway car on the road between Thornhill and the Durisdeer road shortly afterwards but, thereafter, lost sight of it. It was believed that there were four men in the car, presumably including two accomplices of the pair who had carried out the raid itself.

CCTV at the castle captured images of the men at the scene. The first was thought to be in his early 40s, 5ft 10in tall with a slim build. He wore brown shoes, cream trousers, a cream T-shirt, brown nubuck leather jacket, a brown baseball cap and round-framed glasses. The other was said to be in his late 40s, roughly the same height and build, and wore black trousers, black shoes, a cream long-sleeved shirt, a sleeveless, taupe safari-type jacket and a light cream wide-brimmed hat. Their distinctive appearance raised two possibilities. Either the duo had opted to dress in a manner which they felt fitted in with the stately home surroundings or they had attempted to disguise themselves from the cameras they knew would be monitoring their movements. There is something peculiar about watching the raiders making their escape, looking more like a group out for a high tea than pulling off a multi-million-pound heist. It was more straw boater than balaclava.

The white Golf they had made their rapid retreat in, an able driving machine despite its vintage, was discovered abandoned in a forest just a short drive from the castle. Only a couple of miles away and shielded by the woodland, the gang are believed to have transferred into a black BMW and set off from the heart of the investigation and to safety. It was quickly suspected that the thieves then used that car to escape to Mitchellslacks in the Forest of Ae, near Dumfries. With no further sightings of the car after this, the trail ran cold. Such meticulous arrangements demonstrated the planning and intricacy of their blueprint for a huge crime.

Back at the castle, distressed staff had summoned police from the Dumfries and Galloway Constabulary. It was Scotland’s smallest police force, in the days before the centralised Police Scotland came to pass, but they now faced one of the country’s most high-profile cases. However, some of the officers had great experience in the most testing of circumstances, having dealt with the horrors of the Lockerbie disaster.

The Drumlanrig heist was in no way comparable to that atrocity but it did serve to put the area back under intense scrutiny for reasons everyone involved would rather have avoided. With the fear that the painting would be quickly shipped overseas, the immediate response was to alert Interpol. Ports, rail terminals and airports were all put on high alert and made aware of the incident.

The Madonna of the Yarnwinder was believed to date back to 1501. It had been created for Florimond Robertet, secretary to the King of France, and depicts Jesus sitting on the Virgin Mary’s lap, holding her yarnwinder. Shaped like a cross, the yarnwinder is said to anticipate Jesus’s crucifixion. The painting had been bought in the 18th century in Italy by the third Duke of Buccleuch and taken back to Scotland to its new home.

The Earl of Dalkeith, the son of the Duke of Buccleuch, said at the time of the theft:

This is a treasure that has been in my family for more than 250 years. It’s the most beautiful work of art by one of the greatest painters in the world. It is a work of such peace and beauty and the thought of it being sort of torn away from us like this is very sad indeed. Thousands of people have come over the years to see it. It’s not been shut away and just enjoyed by us.

The significance of the stolen painting could not be overstated. It was described in some quarters as akin to the Mona Lisa being taken. The masterpiece formed part of an incredible art collection assembled by the Duke of Buccleuch, who in 2003 was ranked just outside of the top 50 wealthiest people in Britain. His 253,000-acre estate was one of his prime assets but the prized £405-million art collection was another. It featured paintings by Rembrandt, Gainsborough and Holbein to name but a few that would be instantly recognisable to any art lover. Many of those works were made available for public viewing, with the treasured da Vinci piece hanging in the hall of the castle as a centrepiece to the collection.

As the dust settled on the heartbreaking theft, the pain felt by the Buccleuch family became clear. Charles Lister, who managed Drumlanrig Castle, said his employers considered they were simply custodians of the revered piece or art. He said: ‘The family do obviously try to remain optimistic about the return of the painting. So, we’re looking forward to it coming back as soon as possible. It would be a tragedy if anything happened to it. Not only is it a treasure to the family themselves, but obviously to the thousands of people who have come and seen it in the past. The family likes to display these things to the public. It could have been locked away but His Grace felt he should show it to the people so they could enjoy it themselves.’

The isolated Scottish castle had been exposed as an easy target. Security improvements were made following the raid – not just at Drumlanrig but also by those responsible for similar collections at other historic properties – but ultimately there was an acceptance that little could be done when faced with grim and determined criminals if public access was to be preserved. Experts argued that a daytime raid whilst the castle was open was far more likely to succeed than one under the cover of darkness when doors were bolted shut and intruder alarms activated.

The castle dates back to the second half of the 1600s, having been built on an existing country estate. Today the estate, with its farming and forestry functions, is big business and the tourism element is part of the mix. There are clear and obvious risks in inviting the public, but those were deemed worth taking in order to share the historic home with visitors to the estate. It is hugely popular with tourists from at home and abroad, with its imposing facade making an immediate impact. Overlooking the stunning Nith Valley, it has been dubbed the Pink Palace. It offers guided tours and numerous outdoor activities. The Scottish Cycle Museum is also housed within the grounds, marking local blacksmith Kirkpatrick Macmillan’s invention of the bicycle.

What is certain is that the theft was not a passing opportunistic effort. Drumlanrig is a very difficult location to simply stumble across. It sits 61 miles and, more significantly, more than an hour and a half by road from Glasgow. Similarly, it is 63 miles and close to two hours from Edinburgh. Assuming the culprits may have travelled from across the border, Manchester, for example, is fully 171 miles and more than a three-hour car journey away. The gang responsible did not pick this location for its ease of access but because of the treasures it held.

The raid shook the family to the core and the castle’s season, already drawing to a close when the painting was snatched, was brought to a premature end. As the Buccleuch family took stock, the art world had its say on the audacious theft. Edinburgh-based expert Ricky Demarco said the case was ‘the most terrifying madness’ and added: ‘Whoever has it now in their possession is doomed to look after it in secrecy. They are in a state of madness or greed. It is such a beautiful thing, it deserves to be in the hands of people who understand and value it. It is now in the hands of people who put it at risk.’

Quite what would happen to the stolen painting was unclear. Selling such a high-profile item on the open market was practically impossible. Often real paintings would be passed off at auction as high-quality reproductions as a means of avoiding detection and gaining at least a decent return for thieves but this was not going to be an option for the gang involved on this occasion. Every major auction house, gallery and dealer in the world had been made aware of the raid as part of the lock-down effort mounted by officials in charge of the investigation.

A £100,000 reward was quickly put up, with insurers and the family themselves desperate to see the safe return of the item. The insurance firm made a £3-million payment to the Buccleuchs before 2003 had ended but that represented only a fraction of its worth. At that stage, what were described by family representatives as ‘complex’ insurance issues were revealed. Monetary matters were of secondary interest; the safety of the much-vaunted piece of art was what everyone involved was truly focussing on at a delicate stage of the investigation. One foot wrong could have led to the painting being destroyed or abandoned, making tactics crucial.

In the meantime, police also released CCTV footage which showed the two men who had entered the castle awkwardly attempting to shield their faces from the cameras. Images also showed them getting into the Golf and disappearing into the distance. The car was an important early part of the investigation, with fingertip forensic examinations conducted and the results added to the evidence being gathered. Further CCTV pictures were later released which showed a visit to the castle by two men police were keen to speak to in relation to the raid and, again, one of those men attempted to hide his face when he noticed the watching camera. They had been filmed a week prior to the heist.

Inspector Phil Stewart, of Dumfries and Galloway police, made it clear that he believed the team responsible for the heist had visited the castle previously to scout out their target. Describing the robbery, he said: ‘Two men posing as bona fide visitors entered the castle, entered the room where the painting was on display and overpowered a female member of staff. They took the painting and then made good their escape out of the castle.’

In time an e-fit picture of a man who had purchased the Golf two weeks prior to the robbery was created and circulated far and wide but officers admitted their frustration as the investigation failed to bring any immediate progress.

By October 2003 a senior representative from Strathclyde Police had been drafted in to review the progress made to that point, something Dumfries and Galloway chiefs were quick to point out was not unusual in a case of that magnitude. There were, perhaps understandably, whispers locally about the pace with which the investigation was moving but internally there were no concerns. The wheels were in motion but it would take time for the pace to pick up. In November that same year, there was the first significant leap forward.

A seven-year-old dark-green Rover was found in woodland near Drumlanrig. It was believed to have been used by the gang as they plotted the heist, a process which had taken months. It was discovered in the Forest of Ae on 18 November and forensic tests were said to have yielded ‘valuable information’. It was the same location at which the thieves were believed to have swapped from their first getaway car, the white Golf, to their second, the black BMW.

A picture of the Rover’s movements began to become clear, bringing vital clues to those behind the raid. It had been sold by a garage in October 2002 in Cheshire in north-west England. That legitimate transaction saw the car pass into the hands of a man described as having a Manchester accent and ‘greasy, untidy’ black hair. Between that moment and the robbery in Scotland, police were confident it had been used ‘extensively’ by the gang. Mileage readings pointed to that, as well as pieces of evidence which allowed some of its activity to be plotted.

Whilst the search for those responsible was vital, the hunt for the da Vinci masterpiece was equally important. In 2005 it was placed on the FBI’s register of the 10 ‘most wanted’ missing artworks in the world. It sat on the list alongside artefacts looted from the Iraqi National Museum as well as a pair of Van Gogh paintings taken from Amsterdam’s Vincent Van Gogh Museum in 2002. The Scream and The Madonna, by Edvard Munch, also featured following an attack on the Munch Museum in Oslo in 2004 – another daylight robbery. Paintings taken from the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston in 1990 – an operation which netted thieves $180-million worth of art including three Rembrandts – were also highlighted. All of those incidents served to shine a light on the scale of the worldwide problem and the fine balance that had to be struck by private collectors and public galleries between allowing the masterpieces to be viewed and ensuring they were protected against callous thefts.

Police in Scotland continued to make sporadic appeals on home soil in an attempt to trace either the offenders or painting but time ran out in 2007 when the Duke of Buccleuch died without his wish of being reunited with his cherished artefact being granted. It was one of the saddest elements of the whole saga.

When he passed away in September 2007, the Duke was 83 years old. A former Conservative MP, he had used a wheelchair following a horse-riding accident in the 1970s but remained an active figure in the community and business world. At the time of his death, he was believed to have been Britain’s largest private landowner, with his personal wealth estimated at £85 million. He had been educated at Eton and then Oxford before becoming director of the Buccleuch Estates in 1949. He went on to serve as a Tory councillor before being voted in as MP for Edinburgh North.

Then, the following month, an incredible turn of events gripped a nation which had pushed the Drumlanrig heist to the back of its collective mind. The Madonna of the Yarnwinder had been recovered, intact and undamaged. Art lovers the length and breadth of the country breathed a sigh of relief and waited for details on the staggering find. Thursday, 4 October 2007 proved to be a day of high drama. Acting on intelligence, representatives from four crime-fighting organisations stormed a mid-morning meeting between five people in Glasgow city centre and recovered the painting at the scene. It was whisked away to be formally identified by experts. More than 60 officers had been involved in searches of properties in Lancashire and Scotland that culminated in the raid – not on a backstreet hideout or a dingy warehouse but, rather, on the offices of solicitors HBJ Gateley Wareing in West Regent Street in Glasgow.

As a result of that intensive activity four men were arrested and subsequently appeared at Dumfries Sheriff Court. No details were revealed at the time but the rumour sweeping the city was that a deal relating to the sale of the painting was in the process of being struck when police rudely interrupted. A fifth man was later arrested in the Glasgow suburb of Bearsden and, in 2008, a sixth man, from Airdrie, joined them. After a slow start, it was an investigation which was gathering great momentum.

Dumfries and Galloway Police led a joint operation with the Scottish Crime and Drug Enforcement Agency (SCDEA), Serious Organised Crime Agency (SOCA) and Strathclyde Police. The partnership appeared to have been effective, certainly in recovering the artwork.

Detective Chief Inspector Mickey Dalgleish, who had been leading the investigation, welcomed the development. He said: ‘We are extremely pleased to recover The Madonna of the Yarnwinder painting. The recovery of this artwork is down to extensive police enquiries and the combined efforts of several Scottish police forces, the SCDEA and SOCA. For four years police staff have worked tirelessly on the theft and with help from the public we have been able to track down and locate the painting.’

For the new Duke of Buccleuch, who had inherited the title following his father’s death, it was a bittersweet moment. Joy at the return of the heirloom was tempered by deep regret that the man who had held it so dear had not lived long enough to enjoy the moment. The new Duke thanked police for their efforts, saying: ‘The tenacity they have shown in pursuing the case for four years has been remarkable and we pay tribute to the skill and courage clearly demonstrated by this very satisfactory outcome.

‘Our pleasure is inevitably tinged by sadness that my father, who died just a month ago, should not have lived to see the safe return of this wonderful work of art. It is worth remembering that the Leonardo was on public display at the time, as it had been at his instigation, for nearly three decades. He was dismayed that not only he and his family, but the wider public, would be denied the chance of drawing pleasure from it.

‘It appears superficially to be in remarkably good condition but the National Gallery of Scotland has kindly agreed that it should go in the near future to its conservation department for closer examination. Although it will clearly require much thought and preparation, I should say that we are determined that the painting should once again go on public view to be enjoyed by many thousands who we hope will come back to see it in its home at Drumlanrig.’

In fact, it was at the National Gallery in Edinburgh that the painting was next displayed to the public. In December 2009 it was unveiled in the capital, where it benefited from the intense security protocol and systems in place at the venue. It had been loaned to the gallery by the Buccleuch family and went on to feature at the National Gallery in London, one of nine da Vinci masterpieces displayed as part of a special exhibition. Only 15 da Vinci paintings are thought to have survived worldwide.

The Duke later admitted: ‘It was hugely emotionally important for all of us in the family, but I think for my father in particular, who felt most keenly its loss. It was clear to anyone who knew him that he was deeply upset by the loss and by the lack of any progress in recovering the painting.’

Those responsible for the theft have never been brought to justice. The only court action in relation to the heist came in March 2010 when five of the six men arrested around the time the painting was recovered stood trial at the High Court in Edinburgh.

Marshall Ronald, 53, Robert Graham, 57, and John Doyle, 61, all from Lancashire, Calum Jones, 45, of Renfrewshire, and David Boyce, 63, of Lanarkshire all denied conspiring to extort £4.25 million and an alternative charge of attempted extortion. They were accused of attempting to get members of the Duke of Buccleuch’s family and their insurers to pay for the safe return of the painting. At no stage were they implicated in being involved in the theft of the artwork. At the end of a seven-week trial, all five walked free from court. The case was found not proven against Marshall Ronald, Robert Graham and John Doyle whilst Glasgow solicitors Calum Jones and David Boyce were found not guilty. It had taken the jury eight hours to reach their verdict – one which prosecutors and police had to accept at the end of a long effort to bring the case to court.

During the trial details of an undercover police operation to recover the artwork were revealed. It had been prompted when solicitor Ronald had contacted a loss adjuster and inquired about a potential reward if he could return the painting. He had done so in response to an approach by private investigators Graham and Doyle who said they could track down the painting. After the case, all of the accused welcomed the verdict. Doyle was particularly vocal, insisting the group were entitled to a reward for their part in returning what he described as ‘a culturally-significant masterpiece’ and he pointed to the fact that neither the police nor insurance company had managed to do that. Doyle added, ‘We brought it back and we have been through two-and-a-half years of hell since.’

Graham and Doyle later outlined the intricate detail of the events which brought them before the judge and jury in Edinburgh. It was in October 2007 that they claimed to have ‘rescued’ the artwork from underworld figures. They checked in at a country house hotel, unwrapped the parcel and took pictures of themselves with the item to ensure they had proof of its existence.

Graham and Doyle ran the Crown Private Investigations agency together and branched out with the creation of a website entitled Stolen Stuff Reunited, providing a vehicle for items to be returned in exchange for a reward or finder’s fee. Graham explained, ‘It was designed for little things of sentimental value to the people they were taken from but that were of no use to thieves. We never dreamed of something like the da Vinci coming along.’

It was claimed Doyle had been approached in a pub by someone who had information on the painting’s whereabouts – the suggestion was that it had come in to the possession of a Liverpool businessman. The pair of private detectives are said to have taken it upon themselves to organise the repatriation and enlisted the help of local solicitor Marshall Ronald, who then brought in a Glasgow legal firm.

Contact was made with who they thought were the loss adjusters dealing with the missing painting and, in October 2007, the duo arranged to collect the painting from go-betweens in a car park in Merseyside. They went on to deliver the painting to the offices of the Glasgow solicitors who were advising them but were greeted by an unexpected welcome, as police flooded in to reclaim the painting. There was no big reward – simply a charge sheet.

The court case did not lead to convictions and, with the raiders still at large, art lovers were left to lament what was seen as an unsatisfactory and open-ended conclusion to police activity around the case of The Madonna of the Yarnwinder. It could well be that the full story of an amazing chapter in Scotland’s criminal history has yet to be written.