Episode One: Unveiling Mary’s Story and Koch’s Deception

Episode 1: Unveiling Mary’s Story and Koch’s Deception

Welcome to Crime & Canvas, the podcast that exposes the hidden truths behind the world's biggest art heist. In this gripping debut episode, join host Suzanne Kenney as she unravels the shocking beginning of her 15-year quest for justice.

Our story starts not in a museum, but in a Florida flea market in 1991, where Suzanne's mother, Mary, unknowingly crossed paths with a man named "Ed Koch." Discover how these seemingly innocent art transactions involving masterpieces by Van Gogh, Picasso, and Manet, documented with mysterious handwritten notes, led to an unbelievable revelation: "Ed Koch" was actually billionaire Frederick R. Koch.

Suzanne reveals the chilling details of Frederick R. Koch's elaborate deception, including his faked aneurysm and elaborate fake obituaries, hinting at a mastermind with a flair for the dramatic. Learn about his secretive life, his family's high-stakes lawsuits, and his hidden connections to the art world in Miami.

This episode lays the groundwork for how a daughter's search for answers about her mother's past unexpectedly collided with a billion-dollar international art crime. It’s a tale of betrayal, hidden identities, and the first steps on a path where no one wanted Suzanne to succeed.

Listen now to hear:

• Mary's initial encounters with Frederick R. Koch at the flea market.
• The surprising true identity of "Ed Koch" and his background.
• The documented evidence of Koch's faked death in the early 90s.
• Suzanne's own journey of discovery, from eBay sales to launching her relentless investigation.

Dive into the truth that authorities ignore. The real story begins here.

See documented evidence from this episode at: https://crimeandcanvaspodcast.com/

Join the fight for unheard voices: https://uhv.news

The Truth Is Still The Truth Even If No One Believes It!

Transcript

This is Suzanne Kenney, and you've found the Crime in Canvas podcast. My story begins with a deeply personal puzzle spanning decades, rooted in an act of betrayal against my own mother. It was in the pursuit of understanding her truth that I found myself unexpectedly entangled with the 1990 Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum Art Heist, a crime whispered about for years, and one I believe I've solved.

It all started around November of 1991 at a flea market booth in Okeechobee, Florida, with my mother Mary and a man calling himself Ed Koch. When he introduced himself, he made sure to pronounce it like Koch, "as in the mayor of New York," he said. But here's the twist: it wasn't until over a decade later, in 2010, when I finally uncovered his true identity.

I learned his name was actually pronounced Coke. This subtle phonetic deception was just his first of many clever ways of being himself while simultaneously not being himself. This man, it turns out, is a billionaire trying to make right with the art world—a detail we'll delve into in a later episode. He first approached my mother trying to sell her a painting.

She wasn't interested in buying anything. She didn't have the money and desperately needed sales that day just to pay her bills. He insisted, saying he'd leave the painting with her to try and sell, and he'd be back at the end of the day. He returned, and she hadn't sold it. She told him all she had was $3 in her pocket and she couldn't buy the painting. She even suggested, "You can go ask other vendors. They might want to purchase it." But he said, "No, I'm selling it to you." And for just $3, she became the owner of that Jane Peterson painting.

This man continued to visit her over the next three months, selling her many pieces of artwork, all for just a couple of dollars each. He would share stories of his life with her. I want to pause here and remember, this was the early '90s; cell phones and the internet were in their infancy. The cell phones then didn't have internet on them like they do today. Google was created in 1998, and Yahoo was created in 1994. She said when he visited with her, he'd look like a poor person, that she thought he was homeless. His hair would be scuffled, and his clothes would be scruffy and disorganized.

But the other vendors told her he was staying in the RV park across the street. This small city of Okeechobee is mostly made up of mobile homes and many RV parks. He was staying in a brand new Airstream trailer. This at the time was the high-end RV to have. She said he told her stories of lawsuits with a brother, a great dislike for a twin brother.

He talked about a love of art with his mother, how he and his mother were starting a museum. She thought this museum was in Coral Springs in the Miami area. He talked about that area often. He showed my mother a newspaper article with a photograph of his mother. The article was about the city giving his mother an award, thanking her for something. His mother was standing in front of a Rolls Royce in the photo. He talked about yachts and dishes trimmed with gold. But remember, he was dressed poorly, so my mother didn't know what to believe.

She said she enjoyed his visits and would look forward to them. She would even go through McDonald's and pick up a cup of coffee and breakfast sandwich for him on her way to her booth. With his poor appearance, she thought he could use the meal. She felt he needed someone to talk to, and the stories he shared were from a life she could never imagine. Some of the artwork he sold her I never got to see. She was selling pieces at the flea market. I know he sold her artwork by Vincent van Gogh, Pablo Picasso, Édouard Manet, Alexander Calder, Jane Peterson, Kees van Dongen, Camille Bombois, and the Jim Cassel print, selling her the Van Gogh last and telling her to go retire, get out of the flea market. Some of this is documented in the handwritten notes, referencing things like the Sultan of Morocco, Gallery Van Nays of Paris, France, formally collection of H. Leed, Alexander Calder's housekeeper, Mrs. Clifford, and the Hokin Gallery in Palm Beach, the Marlborough House Gallery with actual catalog numbers.

One day, I remember my mom and I were discussing the Van Gogh painting, and she told me the name of the man in the painting is "The Moroccan." I said, "How do you know that?"

She said, "He told me and it's written in the notes." I said, "What notes?" She said he would have her take notes of the things he was telling her, saying, "Write this down." And sometimes he would write in the notes too. He told her the names of museums and their addresses from the top of his head. Again, this was a time before cell phones and the internet was in its infancy.

The notes we go over in another episode. Like I said, the Van Gogh painting was the last painting he sold her. He was supposed to bring her a Maurice de Vlaminck painting next. The name is mentioned in the notes. When I asked my mother about it, that was her answer.

He never returned. Instead, what happens next is, it had been a couple of weeks since my mother had seen Mr. Koch. She had even started asking around the market if anyone had seen him around. Then one day, a lady she thought may have been a nurse from Raulerson Hospital came and found her at her booth, telling her Mr. Koch was in the hospital with an aneurysm and had been transferred via helicopter to St. Mary's Hospital in West Palm Beach, Florida. This hospital is about five minutes from Palm Beach.

Before continuing, I want to state, between his last visit and this nurse arriving, my mother had gone to Sotheby's to start selling this artwork and told them her story of this Mr. Koch. We will get into that story in the next episode. I also want to state that they didn't have each other's phone numbers. This man didn't know where my mother lived. I find it odd that they can find my mother, but they can't find his family. So my mother closed up her booth and she went and visited him that very day at the hospital. He was in ICU, hooked up to a respirator, but awake and very alert. A nurse took my mother aside and asked her if she knew how to contact his family. My mother said that unfortunately she only knew that he had a twin brother, but they didn't speak. Turning her attention back to Mr. Koch, she was surprised at how alert he was for being in ICU.

He was even able to communicate with her with his hands and eyes, such as giving her a double thumbs up. When my mother called back a few days later, she was told he was gone. She was so surprised, as he had seemed so alert when she visited with him. Within a few weeks, the Airstream trailer he'd been staying at was removed from the RV park. She had never been to his trailer. She had only found out from locals he was staying there.

Knowing we're going to go back and discuss the whole Sotheby's and the Jane Peterson story in another episode, around the time Mr. Koch passed away, my mother got the Jane Peterson authenticated by Sotheby's in Palm Beach. It went up for auction later that same year, 1992, and unfortunately didn't sell. She hoped that it would be the catalyst for the remaining artwork to sell.

From that point forward, everything she tried to do with the artwork was always met with disappointment. Again, we will get into this more in future episodes. We couldn't go back and question him, and the internet was in its infancy then. It became very hard to research. All we had is my mother's story and the random, scattered notes they both wrote during his visits.

My mother had always said that Mr. Koch had been telling her he was going to help her sell the artwork, but once he passed away, it was painfully obvious that would never happen. She was hesitant to do it by herself because she wasn't sure if she believed his story, and her own life kept her focused on other matters. When she would work on the artwork, it was always a one-step forward, two-steps backward kind of thing, always leaving her defeated and deflated. What is supposed to be this amazing story was always anything but. She would find many years passing by before working on the artwork again.

2002, and some artwork got sold on eBay. 2009, which brings us to where we are today. In 2010, we discovered Fred hadn't died, and his full name is Frederick Robinson Koch. I discuss this more in another episode. I want to follow up on the 2002 eBay sales. I sold a Picasso ink sketch and a Jane Peterson painting. I have a copy of the Picasso eBay listing, and it shows in 2002 we were telling the same story. It states it was purchased from an Ed Koch at a flea market booth in Okeechobee, Florida. I even have my 2002 Alexander Calder documents where I tried to get them authenticated through the foundation. We're telling the same story. I discuss that more in another episode.

In 2009, when we start this again, was when my mother gifted me the Alexander Calders on my birthday and asked me to help her research it again. If I could find a way to put her story and pictures of the artwork on the internet to see if anyone could help her, that website started as lookingforedkoch.com. And once I discovered Frederick R. Koch was the name, I changed the website to theartworkstory.com.

You know, as I talk about the story, as I lay out the initial pieces of the puzzle, and as we finish the very first official episode of Crime and Canvas, I'm struck by a profound fear. I've fought for 15 long years to honor my mother, Mary, to bring light to the truths she deserves. But there's a quiet dread that even this podcast, this platform, might not even be able to break through the deeply entrenched bias, that it might just cause more sadness, more disappointment. It's a heavy fear to carry, especially when you've poured your entire being into something for so long.

The strange existence living in these two parallel worlds: in one, I'm Suzanne, the web developer, navigating clients, managing assistants, where every email gets a response, where my expertise is sought after and my efforts praised. And in the other world, the world of the Gardner heist, I'm often met with silence, dismissed, or even, as you've heard, subjected to outright contempt. It's like being laughed at, as if this billion-dollar crime, this profound injustice, is somehow a joke. But the joke is truly on those who choose to believe a false narrative, who choose complicity over conscience. When people tell me, "Because of WHO this is, Suzanne, never be heard," those words genuinely frighten me. They try to convince me to give up, to be complicit, but that's not who I am.

Our country constantly celebrates our freedom, our right to a voice, our right to be heard. Yet when the truth involves unimaginable wealth and power, everyone around me seems so quick to run away, to say, "Nope, that will never be exposed."

That isn't what I was taught our country was founded on. No one in our nation should possess that kind of power to silence another, to dictate whose truth matters and whose doesn't. And that's why I keep standing. That's why I'm here talking to you. This podcast is born from that very defiance. I might never claim an official victory in a courtroom, but those around me now know I am a person who won't give up.

I refuse to be complicit. This story, Mary's story, is not just about stolen art; it's about systemic corruption, about the powerful being held accountable, and about the very foundation of justice. I'm here to share my truth, to connect with you, the listener, because every voice matters. Your decision to listen, to share, to engage, is a part of this fight. It's how we bypass the silence. It's how we make sure this story is heard, in full, by the public. We're building a community for unheard voices. So as we continue this journey together, know that your presence, your willingness to listen, means everything. Thank you for joining me.

In the next episode, Episode Two, we will discuss the artwork that was sold to my mother in more detail. We'll go over the checklist which we discuss in Episode Seven that leads us to solving the largest art heist in history. Visit theartworkstory.com and sign up to receive my newsletters that document my journey.

I started a website, UHV.News, which means Unheard Voices, to help others going through similar struggles or to praise someone in their community. Visit UHV.News to share your story and join the movement for Unheard Voices. Thank you for listening to the Crime in Canvas Podcast.

Thank you for joining me on crimeandcanvaspodcast.com. This is Suzanne Kenney. I'm grateful for your time and your willingness to hear this story. Let's always remember, the truth is still the truth, even if no one believes it.