Inside the Louvre's art supply closet, the man spent the night, anticipating morning.
He wasn't avoiding anyone specifically. All he needed was for the museum to be closed and vacant. Mondays, that was the weekly shutdown, a regular day, no visitors, no guards expecting any issues. So he stayed in the darkness, encircled by brushes and unused frames.
His name was Vincenzo Peruggia, and he had worked at the Louvre not long before. Building protective cases for the museum's paintings was one of the tasks in his former job. One of them was bolted around a small portrait, which nobody outside the art world particularly cared about yet. He knew how that case was opened. He'd built it.
The painting was taken off four iron hooks as the gallery was empty. He took off the frame and glass. He stepped out of the door he had used a hundred times while working there. One door had been locked. A plumber casually passing by noticed a man in a museum smock struggling with a locked door and allowed entry without hesitation. A guy who used to work there, walking out with something under his arm, was helped along by a stranger who did him a favor. That marked the end of the heist.
For more than a full day, no one noticed.
It wasn't until a different artist arrived to recreate the painting that they discovered four bare hooks on the wall, indicating the original piece was nowhere to be found. The Louvre was being photographed in its entirety at that moment. In 1911, the cameras required true sunlight, so each piece was taken to the roof to be photographed. When questioned about the location of the painting, the underlying presumption was straightforward. Up on the roof, perhaps. Having its image captured.
It wasn't until a guard followed up and the photographers confirmed essentially they didn't have it, that anyone grasped what had occurred.
Prior to that morning, the Mona Lisa was a well-regarded painting displayed in a gallery containing other, more prominent pieces. After that morning, it was the most talked-about object in the Western world. The story was covered by newspapers for weeks. The Louvre's head was reportedly joking before any theft occurred, suggesting it would be as easy as snatching the towers of Notre Dame. Sixty detectives were tasked with investigating the case. Pablo Picasso was questioned by authorities. So, depending on the account you trust, it wasn't just that the German Kaiser was suspected solely because tensions with France were already high. One wealthy American collector, someone France was nervously observing as they bought up artworks at the time, did so as well.
Throughout the entire time, the painting remained hidden in the false bottom of Peruggia's trunk, while the authorities conducted their search in all other locations except where it was. One report states that a detective tasked with questioning him wrote his notes on the spot, while literally leaning on the table the painting was hidden under.
For roughly two years, Peruggia kept it before attempting to sell it, contacting an art dealer in Florence. The dealer noticed the suspicious behavior quickly. He hired a professional to examine the item. It was real. He notified the authorities. Peruggia was quickly taken into custody after surrendering the item, apparently expecting a reward as payment.
When his explanation surfaced, it was revealed that he had done it for love of Italy. According to him, the painting had been looted by Napoleon and removed from Italian soil, and he wished it could be returned. He believed he would be regarded as a patriot.
Leonardo da Vinci finished the painting while living in France, working for the French king at the time. The king bought it from him directly, centuries before Napoleon was even born. The claim of theft from Italy is false. Peruggia's defense was rooted in historical evidence he failed to verify.
He was sentenced to a year and fifteen days in prison. On appeal, his lawyers got that reduced to seven months. Court documents reportedly indicate a mental assessment, during which he was quizzed about a riddle about birds in a tree. It was missed badly by him.
While the case was ongoing, World War I had already begun, and the theft of a painting ceased to be a concern.
The artwork, now displayed at the Louvre and eagerly sought after by tourists who stand in long lines to photograph through bulletproof glass, gained its prominence largely after spending over two years as a missing piece.