The Power of Observation

The Mona Lisa was gone, of that there could be no doubt. An entire section of the wall where the famous icon, until recently, had hung was missing. Now Paris’ finest stood gawking at the hole as if it rated the same awe and respect as the now-absent masterpiece.

Automatic lockdown was initiated almost instantaneously with the first vibrations picked up by the sensors located in the painting’s frame, essentially creating a prison for the more than three thousand tourists and employees that were in the Louvre at the time.

One of the janitors moved about the milling crowds, mopping the floor and emptying trash cans as if this were just another shift. He blended in seamlessly with the background, as if he were a painting of no special note hanging on the wall in plain sight, but never seen. He used his anonymity as a tool, moving amongst the crowds, listening, watching … learning.

More than a dozen detectives gathered in the curator’s expansive office. It had been more than three hours since the investigation had begun. They argued and postured amongst themselves, each certain that he or she had a better lead on what had happened.

The large wooden door opened inward and the janitor walked in. All eyes turned to him, the room became instantly silent.

He slowly walked around the large desk and took a seat in the soft leather chair behind it.

“Arrest the curator and these five people. You will find them standing over near the Statue of David,” he said tossing a scrap of paper with names and descriptions onto the table.

Detectives scrambled to carry out Master Detective Monet’s directive. The case had been solved. They knew this with certainty. While the detective’s methods were often strange, he was never, ever wrong.

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