[MSN] For Map Thief, A World Of Deceit. Forbes Smiley's Elite Clientele Are Left Feeling Betrayed, Humiliated; `I Took It Personally,' Says One.

[Museum Security Network Mailinglist]

For Map Thief, A World Of Deceit 

Forbes Smiley's Elite Clientele Are Left Feeling Betrayed, Humiliated; `I
Took It Personally,' Says One 

By KIM MARTINEAU
Courant Staff Writer

June 25 2006

NEW HAVEN -- Forbes Smiley used his expertise in antiquarian maps and
exploited the trust of his longtime colleagues to unload more than $1.8
million in stolen maps over 71/2 years.

He brazenly stole top-of-the-market maps, nearly 100 in all, from Yale
University and some of the most important libraries in the country. Those
who bought the maps had been friendly with Smiley for years and figured he
had come by the material honestly, from old customers at B. Altman & Co.,
the former Fifth Avenue department store where he worked in the 1980s.

"Everyone assumed - it was a mistake - that he was recycling a lot of these
collections from 30 to 40 years ago," said Harry Newman, owner of the Old
Print Shop in New York.

Each map that Smiley stole tells a unique story about the history of human
exploration and navigation around the globe: the known, the unknown and the
agendas of trading empires at the time. As the recovered maps find their way
back home, those stories are now overshadowed by modern-day tales of deceit.
They provide insights into how Smiley scoped out his material, then fenced
it to dealers who liked and respected him. 

Ashamed and remorseful, Smiley, 50, pleaded guilty to a federal charge of
theft of major artwork last week. He has promised to repay his old friends
by selling his home on Martha's Vineyard and his summer place in central
Maine. He faces up to six years in jail but it may take years more before
those he betrayed and publicly humiliated can forgive.

The most valuable map stolen from Yale, a 1724 engraving of New York, basked
in obscurity until it was featured in an exhibition at the university's
Beinecke library four years ago. The engraved print, "A Map of the Country
of Five Nations," appeared beside other works of art donated in 2000 by the
late Paul Mellon, a wealthy art collector who went to Yale. 

William Reese, one of the country's top dealers of Americana, wrote about
the map in a 2002 catalog, "America: Pictured to the Life," that accompanied
the exhibit. The catalog hinted at the map's value by noting that only three
perfect copies are thought to exist. Cadwallader Colden, a surveyor and
future lieutenant governor of New York, identified lands held by the
Iroquois Confederacy to bring attention to the important role the Indians
would play in Colonial conflicts between the French and British. 

Reese is now horrified that his catalog may have guided Smiley to the Colden
map, in the way a treasure map leads a pirate to gold. A Yale graduate
himself, Reese works out of a brick row house a short walk from the
Beinecke.

"I took it very personally," he said. 

Normally, Smiley researched maps on the top floor of Yale's Sterling
Memorial Library, where sheet maps are stacked in drawers. It was only in
early 2005 that he registered to look at old books and atlases at the nearby
Beinecke. 

On June 8, 2005, while studying in the Beinecke's glass-walled reading room,
he dropped an X-Acto blade on the floor. A librarian discovered it and
alerted police. Hours later, Smiley was arrested in the lobby of a nearby
art museum and police confiscated a briefcase of stolen maps. After checking
their records, Beinecke officials discovered that the Colden map had been
stolen on an earlier visit.

Smiley specialized in early New England maps; conveniently, most of the
libraries he hit were close to home and well-stocked with maps of the area.

But in at least one instance, he flew across the ocean to lift a 1520 world
map from the British Library in London. The map, worth $125,000 today, was
sold to a New York dealer who sold it to an American collector who
ultimately had to sell it back when the FBI came calling.

Peter Apian, a German cartographer, modeled his 1520 map after an earlier
woodcut map drawn by Martin Waldseemuller - the first to show a new
continent bearing the name "America." There's only one known copy of the
1507 Waldseemuller map and it's on display at the Library of Congress. The
library paid a staggering $10 million for it in 2001. 

Peter Barber, head of map collections at the British Library, says Smiley
would have known of the Waldseemuller sale and been confident that the Apian
would also fetch a high price. "It's the only map similar to the
Waldseemuller that a private collector is likely to come across," he said.
"It would have represented quite a coup for him, to sell it on."

A short time later, Smiley sold the Apian map to Newman in New York. The
black and white map reflected what was known of the Western Hemisphere after
Columbus sailed to the Caribbean islands. 

Newman sounds wistful as he describes the fun he had learning about the map
before he sold it. "I enjoyed it," he said. "It was a beautiful example."

Newman got to know Smiley when he worked in Altman's map department. After
Smiley opened his own business, he often stopped at the Old Print Shop on
shopping expeditions for two major clients, Lawrence Slaughter and Norman
Leventhal. Though Newman had grown up around maps, he was just learning the
trade and Smiley generously shared his knowledge. Later, Newman hired Smiley
to catalog, or write descriptions, of maps the shop had for sale. Sometime
in 1999 or 2000 Newman started buying from Smiley.

"He was an ace salesman," he said. "He was good with people."

Newman now struggles for words to describe the depth of the betrayal. The
Old Print Shop lost $461,000 buying back the Apian map and others from
heartbroken customers.

Most but not all of the maps Smiley stole will eventually return to their
home institutions. Six maps are still in the hands of one or two
dealers/collectors who are awaiting further proof that Smiley took their map
and not a similar print. 

The FBI has written off five maps as "unrecoverable." In some cases, the
maps were sold so long ago that the trail had grown cold and the FBI was
unable to trace the chain of custody. Two of those maps, worth $70,000,
belonged to New York Public Library: a John Thornton map of New Jersey and a
Nicholas Scull map of Pennsylvania.

One map was lost through breathtaking carelessness.

It possibly fell out of Smiley's hands in early 2005 while he exited a cab
in uptown Manhattan. He discovered the loss after arriving at the Old Print
Shop. He opened the folder where he had last placed the map only to find it
gone.

He had stolen the 1532 world map, "A New and Complete Description of the
World," from the Beinecke, out of Johann Huttich's "Novus Orbis Regionum."
The map used a cordiform projection to display the globe on the printed page
and though not particularly rare, it was worth $35,000.

By the time Smiley raced uptown to hunt for the map, a rain had started to
fall. As far as anyone knows, the map has never resurfaced.

The FBI investigation is now over but the libraries are beginning to
confront an even bigger problem. After Smiley's arrest, they took stock of
their collections and in some cases, found far more material missing than
Smiley has confessed to. Harvard University's Houghton Library found during
its inventory that 13 maps are missing. Smiley admitted to taking eight.

The additional losses leave unsettling questions. 

Did Smiley disclose all of his crimes? Or were the libraries lax about
security and vulnerable long before Smiley walked through the door? 

A longtime rival of Smiley's in the map trade, Graham Arader, commended the
FBI on a "spectacular" investigation. But he is convinced Smiley took more
maps than he has admitted to. Arader speculates that small libraries and
historical societies may have been hit and just not known it. 

"I think this is just the tip of the iceberg," said Arader, his voice
rising. "He turned up much more stuff than this that was OUT-OF-THIS-WORLD!"

In another dig at Smiley, Arader heaped praise on his rival's lawyer,
Richard Reeve. "Forbes got the best lawyer on the planet," he said.

Smiley has declined comment, citing the advice of his lawyer. Reeve has
insisted his client cooperated to the fullest extent possible and that most
of the stolen maps would not be heading back to the libraries were it not
for Smiley's wish to make amends. 
Copyright 2006, Hartford Courant