Why steal a masterpiece? The brutal theft in August of two world-famous paintings from the Munch Museum in Oslo raises the question of why great works of art are stolen, since they are virtually impossible to sell. Martin Bailey proposes some answers, and lists the ten most important missing works of art stolen in the past decade

Apollo, Oct, 2004 by Martin Bailey

Stealing an iconic work of art is one type of crime that virtually never pays. Seizing a masterpiece from a gallery is one thing, but realising its value is a very much more difficult challenge. Most criminals understand this, so the theft of great works of art is relatively rare, considering the many thousands that are on public view in museums and galleries across the world. Nevertheless, there has been a spate of major losses over recent years. 'The increase in top-end art theft is very worrying', says David Scully, of AXA art insurance.

When a masterpiece is stolen, it naturally hits the headlines, although such losses represent only a small fraction of art crime. Art thefts are hugely costly: London loss adjuster Mark Dalrymple estimates that art worth a total of around 300 million [pounds sterling] is stolen in Britain every year (this is based on a very broad definition of art, to include antiques, jewellery, clocks and so on). On a global scale, this figure might suggest several billion pounds a year of losses worldwide. Interpol admits that the illicit sale of cultural property is often regarded as the third most common form of trafficking, after drugs and arms.

In terms of the number of objects, and even total value, the overwhelming majority of stolen art comprises items worth relatively modest sums, in the hundreds or low thousands of pounds. Such objects are usually not easily identifiable and can be quickly disposed of, often in street markets. However, the growth of databases, such as that of the Art Loss Register, means that slightly more important stolen works, especially paintings, are being increasingly well recorded.

Nevertheless, masterpieces are different from most stolen art. They cannot be sold anywhere, since no auction house or dealer would touch them, so they have no open-market value. There is little that a villain can do with their stolen world-famous Munch or Monet. So why do they get taken?

Motives for a theft

Six possible explanations have been cited for the theft of great works of art. One theory is that iconic works are stolen to order, for a private collector who has a secret hideaway hung with his favourite paintings from the world's galleries. The idea of a criminal connoisseur has appealed to film-makers, but no actual example has emerged in recent decades. Until it dues, we should probably regard the existence of a 'Mr Big' as myth.

The second, and perhaps most plausible, motive, is extortion. In many cases, demands are made, but despite the temptation for owners to pay a small proportion of the work's value in order to recover it, there are pragmatic grounds for refusal (as well as legal constraints on paying criminals in most jurisdictions). Anyone who pays up becomes much more vulnerable to being robbed again. If a public gallery is involved, a ransom payment is also likely to encourage thefts from other galleries within the country.

Ransom demands are virtually never openly paid, although rewards are another matter. In theory, the difference between a ransom and a reward is clear. Rewards are relatively modest, typically between 10,000 [pounds sterling] and 100,000 [pounds sterling] for works worth millions (the 350,000 [pounds sterling] reward cited below for a Picasso is unusually high). They are available only under specific conditions, and, crucially, are not payable to anyone involved in the theft, but only to third parties. These may well be criminals who have been involved in other thefts. As Mr Dalrymple points out, 'they are often the best informants'.

It is true that rewards, once paid, can be divided, and some could filter back to the thieves, but obviously this would mean that their takings would be much reduced. At the usual 10,000 [pounds sterling]-100,000 [pounds sterling] level, a reward is not much of an incentive for crime, considering that the theft of masterpieces normally involves a gang, many months of preparation and a high degree of risk--and the problem of ensuring that any reward is passed back through another party.

Occasionally, however, there is a perceived grey area between rewards and ransoms. The most notable recent case involved the recovery of two paintings by J.M.W. Turner owned by the Tare. The pictures, Shade and darkness and Light and colour, had been stolen from the Schirn Kunsthalle in Frankfurt in 1994. They were recovered separately in 2000 2001, by which time their value was around 50 million [pounds sterling]. The Tate admitted that it had incurred expenses of nearly 3.5 million [pounds sterling] on payments for information, legal fees and other costs. Payments to informants were probably well over ten times the initial reward of $250,000 (180,000 [pounds sterling]). The Tate's director, Nicholas Serota, was satisfied that no reward payments had been made to criminals involved in the crime, but there is no way of knowing whether any filtered back to them.

Art as currency

Masterpieces are being used as a form of currency in the underworld. This important recent development seems to occur in four slightly different ways and offers a third possible reason for stealing a masterpiece. Paintings can be sold on for cash, used to pay off an existing loan, provided as collateral for a new loan, or spent on purchasing drugs for resale. A painting will obviously be worth only a tiny proportion of its open-market value, but, to take a simple example, one valued at 20 million [pounds sterling] might be deemed to be worth 1 million [pounds sterling] in the underworld. Because the picture cannot be disposed of openly, the next recipient must believe that he can 'sell' it on in the underworld, extort a ransom payment from the owner or get a third party to obtain a reward and then secure a share.