Vedi! le fosche notturne spoglie de' cieli sveste l'immensa volta: sembra una vedova che alfin si toglie i bruni panni ond'era involta.
All'opra, all'opra!
Dagli.
Martella.
Chi del gitano i giorni abbella?
Chi del gitano i giorni abbella, chi? chi i giorni abbella?
Chi del gitano i giorni abbella?
La zingarella! — Waiter singing in the background…
"Let me see if I understand you correctly, Mr. Jones. You wish to commission not one, but two identical copies of Van Gogh's 'Mountains at Saint-Remy'. More to the point, these painting are to be indistinguishable from the original. Do I have that right?"
"Absolutely. And, please, call me Simon."
The two men were dining at 13 ^th and Dickinson Streets in South Philadelphia.
"Simon, if I may ask, why me?"
"Well, Mr. DeAngelo, you come highly recommended."
Since 1933, the Victor Cafe has served traditional Italian fare along with performances from live opera singers; the waiters.
Anthony DeAngelo took a sip of his Chianti. "Simon, first of all, I'm flattered. However, let's take a moment to examine the obstacles which have to be overcome to accomplish… this project."
"By all means."
"To start with, acquiring the necessary materials from Van Gogh's time period. Canvases, frames, brushes. Then whatever paint that he used, we almost would have to make that from scratch."
Simon twirled some pasta onto his fork, lifted his head, looked at his guest, "So far, no problems."
"I'm just getting started. I need to see the painting, itself, taken apart. I'll need color photographs, I should take those myself."
"I believe that can be arranged."
"And, last but not least, I have a small but very real problem with the FBIs Art Crime Unit."
Simon pushed his plate aside and ordered Sambuca and coffee for them both. "Ah, yes, so I've heard. Anthony, I won't lie to you. Of course there is an element of risk. I can do everything possible to minimize the risk, nonetheless it exists. On the other hand, you will be very well compensated."
"What are we talking about?"
"You name your own price. If I can do it, I will. If I can't, well, I had the opportunity to make a new friend. No haggling. Name your figure and we'll take it from there."
Anthony DeAngelo sat there thinking about his wife, their growing family and the repercussions about moving forward with this project. He polished off the Sambuca and sipped his coffee. This Simon Jones, whom he had just met only ninety minutes ago also came highly recommended. ‘Someone to be trusted’ his contact had said. And besides, for no concrete reason, Anthony liked him.
Anthony named a figure and added, "If that's agreeable, then we can move ahead."
Simon Jones stood and shook his hand. "We'll be in touch."