Introducing: Detectives Don’t Sleep - The Nazi Art Mystery (Part 1 of 3)

Hi listeners.

While the team puts the finishing touches to the next season of Real Dictators, here's a taste of a brand new podcast from Noiser.

If you enjoy detective shows and crime mysteries on TV, then you will love Detectives Don't Sleep.

It's the new Whodone It podcast.

Detectives Don't Sleep takes you beyond the police tape to shadow the real detectives who worked history's most intriguing cases.

The show features true crime stories from all over the world and from different historical periods.

In the Taster episode you're about to hear, you'll be hot on the heels of international art detective Arthur Brand.

He's hunting down a pair of lost statues, two giant bronze horses that were once beloved by none other than Adolf Hitler.

What starts as a case of missing artworks soon snowballs into something else entirely.

a deadly neo-Nazi conspiracy.

If you enjoy this taster episode, search Detectives Don't Sleep in your podcast app and hit follow to get new episodes every Tuesday.

Or listen at noiser.com.

Part two of the Nazi art mystery is live now on the Detectives Don't Sleep podcast.

It's February 2014.

As his plane touches down at Pisa Airport, Arthur Brand shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

At 6'3, he has to squeeze himself into the limited legroom available on a short-haul flight.

He's impatient to be on his way, but the fastened seatbelt sign is still glowing.

Arthur is a freelance art detective, an expert who specializes in recovering stolen artifacts and exposing forgeries.

His resume is impressive and wide-ranging.

For example, in 2008, he helped recover treasure dating from 250 AD that had been looted from an archaeological site in Peru.

The find made headlines around the world with more than a thousand objects worth over 60 million euros in total.

You may have heard of it.

At 45, the bespectacled Dutchman may not be the archetypal detective in a trench coat in Fedora.

He seems more used to the inside of an art gallery than the mean streets, but it would be a mistake to underestimate Arthur.

He's worked with Scotland Yard, the Italian Carabinieri, the Dutch, German, and Spanish police, Interpol, have his number on speed dial.

The reason he's so much in demand is that there just aren't that many people who do his job.

As he himself jokes, I am the best art detective, but I am the only art detective.

Some call him the Indiana Jones of the art world.

If the story you're about to hear is anything to go by, it's an apt description.

As soon as the seatbelt sign goes off, Arthur springs to his feet.

All around him, the other passengers are taking their belongings down from the overhead lockers, excited that their holidays are about to begin.

But Arthur is traveling light.

He's determined to be on the soonest possible flight back to Amsterdam.

He's not here for the sun or the ice cream, or to appreciate the countless Renaissance masterpieces that Tuscany is home to.

The truth is, he doesn't really know why he's here.

The whole trip may be a wild goose chase, which is why he's keen to get it all over with as quickly as possible.

It all started when he received a tantalizing call from a former art smuggler named Michelle Van Ryan.

These days, Van Ryan is going straight and spends his time tipping off various police forces about potential art crimes.

I'm onto something amazing, really mind-blowing.

Take it from me.

It'll never get any bigger than this, Van Ryn had said.

Arthur was intrigued.

I mean, wouldn't you be?

But Van Ryn had refused to give away more over the phone, insisting that they meet in person.

Arthur's known Van Ryn for about 15 years.

When he first started out in the art world, Van Ryn saved him from making some costly mistakes.

He was a useful contact to have, not least because of his criminal connections.

Arthur's one of the first off the plane.

A few delicate wisps of cloud are painted onto an intense blue sky, creating an effect that Titian would have been proud of.

Van Ryan has arranged for a driver to pick Arthur up at the airport and deliver him to his home in Livorno, 22 kilometers south of Pisa.

It's a hair-raising journey,

but Arthur is delivered in one piece.

He approaches the doorway of a five-story apartment building and scans the residents' names.

As he expects, the name Van Ryan is not on the list, though this is the address he's been given.

Since turning police informer, Van Ryan's made many enemies, some of whom have made no secret of their desire to see him dead.

Arthur presses the bell for Professor Richardson, Van Ryan's current alias.

Van Ryan's assistant buzzes Arthur in.

Arthur enters the cool, dark interior.

Everything seems peaceful, but the man he's about to meet is a seasoned risk-taker.

He's survived a mafia assassination attempt and being shot at by Yugoslavian gangsters.

Whatever he's mixed up in, Danger is never far away.

The sensible thing to do would be to turn around, walk away, and get the next available flight back to Holland.

Not for the first time in his life, Arthur Brand doesn't do the sensible thing.

Though he has no idea what he's getting into,

he keeps walking.

Ahead of him lies a year-long journey full of twists and turns, danger and deceit.

He'll meet shady art dealers, be kidnapped by mysterious femme fatale, make small talk with a neo-Nazi, chase down communist criminals, and doorstep Himmler's daughter as he follows a trail that takes him ever deeper into a sinister hidden world.

He'll start the journey believing he's looking for a missing artwork and end it thwarting a modern-day Nazi plot.

My name is Mark Dodson, and welcome to Detectives Don't Sleep.

Each week, we'll shadow the world's most remarkable sluice:

real detectives who worked extraordinary cases.

This week, we're hot on the heels of international art detective Arthur Brand as he begins the search for a pair of lost statues with a dark history.

But a simple case of missing art quickly spirals into something something far more dangerous.

A neo-Nazi conspiracy.

From Noiser, this is part one of the Nazi art mystery.

And this

is Detectives Don't Sleep.

When Michelle Van Ryan sees Arthur, A broad smile spreads across his face.

With his weathered features, grizzled beard, and unkempt unkempt hair, Van Ryan has a slightly piratical look, though Arthur's own description of his old mentor is the devil and a saint in one person.

Arthur's keen to get down to business.

He asks Van Ryan why he's dragged him all this way.

Suppose some sensational artwork turned up, Van Ryan teases.

Something no one was looking for because everybody thought it had been destroyed in the Second World War.

Arthur has a good idea what Van Ryan might be referring to.

If this is about the Second World War, it's probably something to do with the many thousands of artworks looted by the Nazis.

Van Ryan turns on a projector and treats Arthur to a slideshow.

Arthur sees a succession of black and white photographs of Hitler's Reich Chancellery, the monumental government building designed by Albert Speer.

The Reich Chancellery came under heavy bombardment from Russian artillery during the Battle of Berlin.

The ruins were demolished after the war.

Images of the colossal sculptures installed outside the Reich Chancellery flash up.

Van Ryan explains that they were works by Hitler's favorite sculptors, Arno Brecke, Fritz Klemsch, and Josef Torak.

Hitler had called for a new art to promote Nazi racial ideology.

This was intended to replace the decadent modern art that had flourished during the Weimar Republic, art which Hitler condemned as Jewish and degenerate.

One slide shows two immense male nudes by Brecke, standing guard at the entrance to the Reich Chancellery.

They represent the twin pillars of Nazism, the party and the army.

The next shows a work by Josef Torak, two monumental bronzes called the Striding Horses.

They occupied pride of place in front of Hitler's office.

Every day, he would look out of his window and gaze at them, taking inspiration from their huge, strutting forms.

Like all the sculptures in the Reich Chancellery, the striding horses were destroyed when the building was reduced to rubble.

At least, that's what everyone had assumed.

As the next slide clicks into place, Arthur can scarcely believe his eyes.

It's another image of the striding horses.

But, unlike all the previous slides, this one is in color.

Taken inside a nondescript interior, It shows the horses standing on wooden pallets with a plastic curtain hanging behind them.

Two men in modern dress pose in front of the gigantic beasts.

It must be a recent photograph, which can only mean one thing.

Are you telling me these horses still exist?

Arthur demands.

Van Ryan shrugs.

They could be forgeries.

Van Ryan explains that he was sent the color photograph.

by a Dutch art dealer called Stephen, who claims that the statue shown in it are the original striding Horses by Torak.

Stephen, who lives in Antwerp, is representing the current owner of the horses.

He's revealed to Van Ryan that his client is the member of a prominent German family, which in the past had links to the Nazi party.

He initially approached Van Ryan to find a buyer for the horses, insisting that the deal be kept secret because legally the horses are the property of the German state.

Van Ryan had gone along with Stephen's proposal hoping to recover the artwork for the government.

But Stephen got cold feet and backed out of the deal.

In this kind of highly sensitive, not to say illegal, transaction, it doesn't take much to spook either side.

Van Ryan just doesn't know why Stephen pulled out.

He can only guess that Stephen doesn't trust him anymore.

Now, Van Ryan wants Arthur to pick up where he left off.

Arthur's skeptical.

The statues in the color photograph must be forgeries.

This could all be a giant waste of time.

Van Ryan argues that even if they are forgeries, it's still worth looking into.

The seller, who is most certainly an ex-Nazi, or someone with Nazi links, is asking millions of Euros for the horses.

Is it right that they should profit from this illegal sale?

Van Ryan's plan is essentially to scupper the transaction, which will prevent a fortune falling into the hands of Nazis.

It's a powerful argument.

Okay,

says Arthur.

I'll give it a shot.

As Van Ryan shows him out, he gives him one last chance to change his mind.

Those ex-Nazis and and their sympathizers are extremely dangerous, he warns.

Arthur can't help wondering if that's the real reason Van Ryan wants to involve him.

If Arthur is the public face of the negotiations, he'll be the one with the target on his back.

It's hardly a reassuring thought, but by now, it's too late.

Arthur is already hooked.

Hi again, listeners.

If you're enjoying this taster episode, find Detectives Don't Sleep in your podcast app of choice and hit follow to get weekly episodes.

Part two of the Nazi Art Mystery is live now and waiting for you.

Back in Amsterdam, Arthur has a meeting with his two partners at Ardia's, the research bureau he set up in 2011.

The firm acts as consultant to art collectors.

If you're spending a million on a masterpiece, you may want to be sure that it's genuine and not stolen.

According to the CIA, art crime is the fourth biggest criminal enterprise in the world.

Tens of billions of dollars change hands as forgeries, stolen artworks, and looted antiques are traded.

on the black market.

It's hardly surprising when you consider that the value of a single stolen Vermeer is around $300 million.

Ardeas specializes in guiding buyers through this potential minefield.

They also have a high-profile sideline investigating heists and recovering lost and stolen artworks.

It's an interesting field to work in, though sometimes the risks can outweigh the rewards.

Not surprisingly, organized criminals aren't too happy about having Ardeas meddling with their business deals.

When Arthur tells his partners about Van Ryan's proposal, they're reluctant to take the case on.

In their view, the horses in the recent photograph are clearly forgeries.

One partner digs up a video clip shot soon after the fall of Berlin, showing the rubble-shroon wasteland.

that the Reichschancellery was reduced to.

It's impossible to imagine anything surviving surviving that level of devastation.

Arthur argues that there could still be something worth investigating here.

Maybe they're not the original statues.

Even so, Joseph Torak could still be connected to their creation.

Arthur finds a photograph of Torak working on a plaster model for a tabletop version of one of the striding horses.

Torak made five of these bronze miniatures, perfect copies of the colossal statues outside the Reich Chancellery.

He gave the many horses, each around 40 centimeters high, to five prominent Nazis.

What if one of Torak's little horses had fallen into the hands of a modern forger?

But pieces like this aren't available on the open market, which means that someone with close ties to a high-ranking Nazi must be linked to the forgery.

It's further evidence that the people behind this transaction are Nazi sympathizers.

For Arthur, the big question is, why are they trying to sell the forgeries now?

He has a theory.

One that he can barely bring himself to voice.

In the 24 hours since visiting Van Ryn, Arthur's been doing some intense research.

He's dug up information on a highly secretive organization called Silent Assistance.

It was founded after the war to help former Nazis escape from Germany.

Men like Adolf Eichmann, one of the architects of the Holocaust,

and Josef Mengele,

known as the Angel of Death, because of the deadly experiments he carried out in Auschwitz.

It's rumored that Silent Assistance helped them both flee to Argentina.

One of the leading figures in silent assistance is an elderly woman called Gudrun Borvich,

maiden name Himmler.

Her father was Heinrich Himmler, the former commander-in-chief of the SS.

Since the war, Gudrun has devoted her life to restoring her father's honor.

as she sees it.

In Arthur's view, the so-called Nazi princess may well be linked to the forged statues.

As he explains to his partners, I wouldn't be surprised if one of the five little horses, one of which was likely used for the forgery, had been given to Heinrich Himmler.

But if silent assistance is behind the sale of the forged horses, what do they need the money for?

Arthur believes they're raising funds to finance something big.

Their main work is helping ex-Nazis get out of the country.

By now, most of the original old comrades, as they like to call themselves, are dead.

But Arthur assures the team that Silent Assistance is still very much alive.

One unsavory aspect of the organization's current operations is to fund the legal defense of Holocaust deniers.

They're also busy growing a new support base to spread their fascist ideology.

Throughout Europe, there's been a rise of fanatical neo-Nazi groups.

Silent assistance is fueling that wave of hatred.

And to make matters worse, this new generation of Nazis is turning to violence and terrorism.

Between 2000 and 2007, a group of German terrorists carried out the so-called kebab murders, killing 10 Germans of Turkish heritage.

Two of the perpetrators killed themselves.

But the third, a woman, is currently on trial for her part in the murders and other terror attacks.

It's one of the biggest trials in German history.

Arthur can't prove that silent assistance is funding the woman's defense,

but it's just the kind of cause that the group is committed to supporting.

If they are involved in this case, they'll need money, and the sale of the striding horses, whether fake or genuine, would generate a massive injection of cash.

This is huge.

As one of Arthur's partners says, if there really are former Nazis behind these forged horses, then I'd like to know what they intend to do with those millions.

The team discusses strategy.

For now, Arthur is against approaching Stephen, the art dealer who is representing the sellers.

He's worried Stephen will connect him with Van Ryn, as it's widely known in the art world that the two have worked together in the past.

Instead, Arthur proposes they make contact with neo-Nazis directly.

Alright, now let's just pause for a moment here.

and take all this in.

What started as a fairly standard case involving forged or missing art has now turned into something else entirely.

A secret Nazi conspiracy.

Arthur isn't just trying to track down some lost sculptures.

He's gearing up to thwart an extremist plot.

It's not going to be easy, and it'll certainly be dangerous, but it's their only hope.

of getting closer to whoever is offering the horses for sale.

But the is,

how?

How do you infiltrate neo-Nazi circles?

Arthur thinks he may have a way in.

He remembers meeting a diamond merchant who happens to be friends with a prominent neo-Nazi.

What makes the friendship even more unusual is that the diamond merchant is Jewish.

Arthur calls Ephraim Levy, the Jewish diamond merchant.

Levy gives him the telephone number of his neo-Nazi friend, a man called Horst.

Horst is cagey on the phone.

Then again, so is Arthur.

But when he mentions Ephraim's name, the neo-Nazi warms up.

He agrees to meet.

Arthur takes the train to Munich, where Horst lives.

He visits him at his apartment in a well-to-do neighborhood.

Horst is not what Arthur expected.

He's dressed like a respectable businessman, not a skinhead thug.

However, Arthur wonders about the silk scarf tied firmly around Horst's neck.

He suspects he's wearing it to conceal Nazi-related tattoos.

Horst shows Arthur into a mahogany furnished study, gesturing for him to take a seat.

Arthur glances down at the coffee table, where he spots a first edition of Mein Kampf next to the guest book from the 1935 Nuremberg Rally.

It seems that Arthur's on the right trail.

These are extremely rare items.

Things like this, they don't come cheap.

This man is clearly a serious collector of Nazi artifacts.

If anyone knows about Hitler's favorite statues, it's likely Horst does.

But Arthur doesn't want Horst to know.

He's specifically looking for the horses.

There's a chance Horst could alert the sellers, causing them to withdraw the horses from the black market.

Instead, he simply tells Horst that he's looking for dealers in Nazi memorabilia.

Horst is wary.

He believes his apartment is being watched by the BFV, Germany's secret service.

Maybe he's just naturally cautious, or maybe he's paranoid, but it seems he doesn't quite trust Arthur yet.

Arthur asks Horst how he knows he's being watched.

There are people in the army, the police, and the Secret Service who sympathize with our views, Horst says.

Nazis in the police force may sound far-fetched, but there's evidence to support Horst's claim.

On December the 7th, 2022, an attempted far-right coup came to light in Germany.

As the New York Times reported, members of the conspiracy included an active duty soldier, a former officer in the elite special forces, a police officer, and at least two Army Reservists.

Eventually, after a couple of whiskeys and a cigar, Horst begins to relax.

He tells Arthur about a secret trade and pillaged Third Reich artworks and memorabilia carried out by the Stasi, East Germany's secret police, after the war.

It was all done with Moscow's approval in order to raise Western hard currency.

Think about this.

The agents of a communist state selling notorious fascist items.

Oh, and there's more.

The Stasi even set up their own art dealership, operating out of an East Berlin hotel.

Western collectors with an interest in all things Nazi could call up and place their orders.

Since the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989, the Stasi no longer exists.

Their art dealership, Kunstund Antiquitaten, ceased trading.

According to Horst, the big players now are the descendants of former Nazis.

It seems a good moment to ask Horst about Gudrun Borvich

and her organization, Silent Assistants.

Still careful not to reveal the real reason for his interest, Arthur asks if she could be involved in the Nazi memorabilia trade.

The question provokes a strange response from Horst.

He grows misty-eyed.

as he thinks about Himmler's daughter.

In our circles, Frau Boorwich is a saint, he tells Arthur.

But he warns him never to mention her name again for his own safety.

That kind of sounds like a bit of a threat, don't you think?

Now Arthur's worried he may have blown it.

Then, Horst writes down the address of a cafe in Munich.

He tells Arthur to go there and ask for Dr.

Annenerbe.

Leave your contact details.

If you're lucky, someone will will get in touch.

With that, the meeting is over.

Out on the street, Arthur breathes in deeply.

The fresh air is a relief from the oppressive, smoke-filled atmosphere of the neo-Nazis' apartment.

He looks around.

Is he being filmed right now?

As Horse claimed?

Or is he just letting the other man's paranoia get to him?

These neo-Nazis are a suspicious bunch, clouding themselves in secrecy and anonymity.

Take the name Horst has given him, Dr.

Anenerbe.

It's obviously fake.

Anenerbe means ancestral heritage in German.

It's a word with strong Nazi associations.

Project Annenerbe was set up by Himmler in 1935 to provide a bogus scientific basis to Hitler's theories of of German racial superiority.

Arthur's nervous about meeting anyone calling themselves by that name.

But if he wants to get to the bottom of this mystery, then he's going to have to sit down with some very unsavory and possibly dangerous people.

Arthur follows Horse's instructions, leaving his hotel details at the the Munich Cafe.

He doesn't reveal his name, however.

Two can play at this cloak and dagger game.

Arthur waits in his hotel room for three days, but hears nothing.

It seems the mysterious Dr.

Annanerva doesn't want to talk.

Tired of being cooped up, Arthur leaves the hotel to visit the Haus der Kunst, the art gallery built by Hitler to house the propaganda art he loved.

One of Torak's original horses was once displayed there before it was installed in the Reich Chancellery garden.

There's no sign of it today.

That evening, after dining at Hitler's favorite restaurant, the Asteria Bavaria, Arthur is walking back to his hotel.

A cold mist swirls around him.

making the darkness even gloomier.

He's feeling dejected.

The trail has gone cold.

He's beginning to think that the trip to Munich has been a big waste of time.

Just then, a car pulls up beside him, a black Mercedes.

The tinted passenger window slides down, and a male voice politely but firmly directs him to get in.

It's one of those pivotal moments in an investigation.

Everything hangs in the balance.

If he doesn't get in, he could miss out on a vital opportunity to find out about the horses.

If he does get in, who knows?

He could even be putting his life at risk.

What would you do?

Of course, Arthur being Arthur, he gets in.

He hears the central locking click shut behind him and immediately regrets his decision.

He tries to get out, but realizes he's trapped inside the car as it speeds away.

He glances at the driver, but it's hard to see his face in the dark interior.

Are you Dr.

Ananerbe?

He asks.

The man doesn't answer.

Arthur peeps through the window as they speed along Munich's streets.

He's looking for landmarks, trying to find out where he's being taken, but it's night.

He soon becomes disoriented.

Either you tell me where you're going or you let me out of the car, he demands.

Again, there's no answer.

By now, Arthur's eyes have grown accustomed to the dark.

He can see that the man driving him is a physically imposing individual with a broken nose and a thick neck.

It looks like he could handle himself in a fight.

Suddenly, the Mercedes turns into the entrance of an underground parking lot.

Arthur's seen enough thrillers to know that underground parking lots are often the scene of of gang shootouts and brutal murders.

The graffiti and flickering lights add a sense of menace.

The driver steers the car to the darkest corner of the concrete labyrinth.

He kills the engine, cutting off the bright beams of the car's headlights.

A dark, uneasy silence descends.

Arthur turns in his seat as a glass panel separating off the rear seats drops down, releasing a faint whiff of perfume.

A husky female voice orders him to keep looking straight ahead.

So,

this must be Dr.

Ananerba.

But before Arthur can ask, she has questions of her own.

Who are you and what do you want of me?

Arthur has a cover story prepared.

He still doesn't reveal his name, but says he's representing a wealthy collector based in Argentina, the son of a high-ranking German officer who escaped to Patagonia after the war.

His client is interested in unique Nazi memorabilia, in particular, the works of Torak, Brecca, and Klemsch.

He hears Dr.

Ananerva light a cigarette.

From the smell of the smoke, menthol.

Judging by her next question, Arthur may have made a tactical error trying to conceal his identity.

It seems Dr.

Aninerva has done her research.

Herr Brand, what do you really want from me?

How does she know his name?

Obviously, his reputation as an art detective precedes him.

That's the one drawback of being good at what he does.

Fame.

Especially in the art community.

Arthur decides to drop the pretense of having a rich client with Nazi parentage and claims he himself is the one fascinated by Nazi memorabilia.

It's big business, after all.

He's still wary about telling her what he's really looking for.

The missing horses are such a sensitive subject, he's frightened of scaring her off.

But all thought of subterfuge goes out of the window when Dr.

Ananerba asks, why should I help you find Joseph Torak's striding horses?

Arthur is stunned.

The woman explains how she worked it out.

The Torak horses have just been offered for sale in the illegal circuit, and suddenly Herr Brand turns up?

That can't be a coincidence.

Arthur is forced to admit she's right.

He is looking for the horses.

Dr.

Ananerba is dismissive.

Doesn't he know they're forgeries?

She explains.

The trade in top Third Reich items take place in a small, closed world.

Since the early 1970s, I've been doing business with families of certain prominent Nazis.

If those horses had been real,

I would have been the one selling them.

It's an odd boast, but it confirms what Arthur and his partners already know.

Now Arthur has to be careful not to arouse Dr.

Ananerba's suspicions even further.

He can't afford to tell her the real reason he's interested in the statues, to expose the far-right group he believes is behind the sale.

He turns the conversation to the miniature horses made by Torak, arguing that they were used as the models for the forgeries.

Dr.

Ananerba is impressed.

She had independently come to the same conclusion.

In all her years dealing in Nazi art, she has only ever seen one of Torak's little horses.

It was bought by a Belgian collector.

She can't remember his name.

Arthur slumps back in disappointment.

A promising lead has come to nothing.

And in the most depressing of places.

an underground parking lot in Munich.

He has the feeling that Ananerva has been playing a game with him all this time.

Why else would she ask him questions to which she already knew the answers?

It's obviously some kind of test.

And it seems Arthur has passed.

Dr.

Aninerba tells him that she may have an address for the Belgian collector, which she promises to email him later.

Arthur can only think that it must have been what he said about the miniature horses that persuaded her to cooperate with him.

Making that connection proved to Aninerva that he's no fool.

Arthur's heart is thumping as he's dropped off back at his hotel.

One short ride has taken him through a whole range of emotions, from fear to exhilaration.

But more important than that, it's taken taken him one step closer to finding out the truth about Torak's horses.

True to her word, Dr.

Ananerba sends Arthur the details of an address in Brussels.

Arthur takes the train to the Belgian capital to follow up the lead.

He finds the address that Dr.

Ananerba gave him and rings the bell.

But the current occupant of the house tells him that the man he's looking for moved out a few months earlier, leaving no forwarding address.

Just to be sure it's the same man, Arthur asks if he was a collector of Nazi memorabilia.

Not surprisingly, he gets the door slammed in his face.

Arthur heads back to Amsterdam to decide his next move.

He consults the Belgian land registry in hope of tracking down the previous owner.

But the records are incomplete and hard to decipher.

It seems to be the end of the road, or at least time to put the search for Torak's horses on hold.

But try as he may, Arthur can't stop thinking about the horses.

All the unanswered questions that hooked him in the first place keep going round and round in his head.

Are the statues genuine or clever fakes?

If they're fake, who's behind the forgeries?

Who's offering them for sale?

And what do they intend to do with the money?

It's this last question especially that keeps him awake at night and won't let him give up on the case.

Then it comes to him.

What if the guy who slammed the door in his face was the collector he was looking for?

Maybe he shouldn't have bandied around the phrase, Nazi memorabilia, quite so loudly.

Arthur makes another trip to Brussels.

This time, he shoves his foot in the door before the owner has a chance to slam it.

Reluctantly, the man lets him in, if only to stop Arthur calling out, Nazi memorabilia, loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

The man, whose name is Mice,

admits that he is the collector Arthur's looking for, but he denies he's a neo-Nazi.

In fact, during the war, his grandfather was taken hostage by the German occupiers and killed in retaliation for an act of resistance.

The more Meiss found out about his grandfather's death, the more fascinated he became with this period of history.

Meiss shows Arthur his extensive collection.

of Nazi-era paintings and artifacts.

But Torak's miniature bronze is nowhere to be seen.

Perhaps Dr.

Annenerbo was wrong.

Or maybe Mice has sold the sculpture?

But Meiss is a collector, not a dealer.

He doesn't strike Arthur as the kind of person who would part with such a rare object for any amount of money.

Unless it's been stolen, it must be hidden away somewhere.

Another possibility occurs to Arthur.

Could Meiss himself be mixed up with the sale of the horses in some way?

For all his denials, perhaps Meiss is maybe just as much a neo-Nazi as Horst?

I mean, after all, if you are involved in an illegal Nazi scam, you naturally lie about it to a stranger.

Arthur has to find a way to get Mice to reveal whether or not he has the miniature.

But if he asks him outright, he's afraid the shutters will come down.

He opts for a more devious way to get the information out of him.

He points to a painting by Hans Schmitz showing a propaganda scene of an Aryan family seated around a table.

Arthur tells Meiss that he recognizes the painting from a newsreel clip he's seen of Hitler visiting the gallery where it was housed in 1939.

He goes on, A few seconds after Hitler is shown passing that painting, you see him walk past a bronze horse sculpted by Josef Torak,

one of the pair that were later placed beneath his study window in the Reich Chancellery.

Meis takes the bait, impressed by Arthur's knowledge.

Obviously keen to show off to a fellow connoisseur, he he takes Arthur into the bedroom, saying, I shouldn't really let you in, but I trust you.

Arthur's eyes widen in amazement as he sees what's standing on the bedside table, a bronze miniature of one of Torak's horses.

He may not have found the colossal sculptures that were outside the Reich's chancelry,

but this could be the closest he'll get to them.

Mice lets Arthur pick up the object.

It's a strange sensation.

The horse is heavier than he expected, and there's no denying it is a beautiful work of art.

Meiss is evasive about how he came by his horse, but he's keen to impress Arthur with his provenance.

He opens up a picture on his laptop.

showing the inside of Torak's studio with the miniature horse positioned between the legs of one of the giant originals.

The horse Arthur is holding appears identical in every way.

Could it be the one used to make the forgeries?

Arthur asks Mice if he's ever lent his precious figurine to anyone, say another collector.

Mice laughs.

The very idea is ridiculous.

What's to stop them from making a forgery and keeping the original?

So, are there any more of the miniatures in circulation?

Meiss doesn't think so.

If there were, he'd know about it.

Arthur believes them.

His elation at finding the bronze miniature is replaced by despondency.

This really does feel now like the end of the road.

You chose to hit play on this podcast today.

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The conversation moves to fakes in general.

Meiss now shows Arthur an image of a burnt great coat he's been offered, which is supposed to be the one Hitler wore in the bunker.

Meiss is convinced it's a fake.

He seems eager to show off his own detective skills to Arthur.

He opens up a video clip of Hitler.

in the Reichschancellery Garden just before he went into the bunker with Ava Braun.

The footage shows Hitler awarding the Iron Cross to members of the Hitler Youth.

Hitler looks like a defeated man, one who knows that all the future holds for him is death.

Like a true collector, Mice is focused on the coat Hitler is wearing, pointing out the difference between it and the one they've just been looking at.

Arthur is familiar with the footage.

He's watched it countless times before.

But now,

he spots something that he's never noticed before.

Something no one else in the world has ever noticed before.

He gets Mice to pause the video and rewind it a few frames.

Then he leans in to get a closer look.

It's true.

His eyes don't deceive him.

The horses are not there.

Arthur tries to keep a lid on his excitement, but the significance of what he's discovered blows the case wide open.

The film was shot on March the 20th, 1945.

The Battle of Berlin didn't begin in earnest until almost a month later.

As the black and white newsreel makes clear, The Reich Chancellery is still standing.

And yet, the horses are already gone, which can mean only one thing.

Hitler had them removed before the Russian artillery reduced his headquarters and everything in it to rubble.

Arthur's pulse is racing.

He hardly dares make the next logical leap.

If Hitler got Torak's horses out before the Reichschancelery was destroyed, the chances are they survived the war.

Which means the statue shown in Stephen's color photograph could be genuine after all.

Could it be?

Arthur is convinced of it.

And the hunt for the horses is back on.

If you want to know the full story behind Arthur Brand's incredible investigation into Josef Torak's missing sculptures, Be sure to check out his book, Hitler's Horses.

It's filled with loads of first-person detail that we weren't able to cover in this series.

Pick it up wherever you get your books.

In the next episode of Detectives Don't Sleep,

we follow Arthur Brand as he continues his search for the missing horses.

We travel with him to the site of a former Red Army barracks in East Germany.

Will he find proof that the horses were once there?

Or, more importantly, a clue to where they are now.

We share his excitement as he makes breakthrough after breakthrough and share his fears that there are powerful forces who don't want him to find the horses.

Is the case too big for him to handle on his own?

If so, who can he turn to for help?

Join us as we piece together the puzzle and don't miss our special extra episode in which we talk to Arthur Brand himself, hear the truth about the hunt for Hitler's horses, straight from the horse's mouth.

Thanks for listening.

If you enjoyed this episode, then you can hear part two of the Nazi art mystery right now.

Just search for Detectives Don't Sleep in your podcast app and hit Follow.

New episodes every Tuesday.

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