'In one week, at this address in Amsterdam,' I said handing him a note and a brown leather purse. 'Here's one hundred silver francs for any supplies you might need. Good day sir.' I heard the baker begin to complain about unpaid balances as I walked out.

He arrived exactly on time, canvas and supplies in hand. He was quite attractive in his paint-spattered clothes. Over lunch, he told me about himself. He'd studied with no one and had no explanation for his natural talent. We spoke until sunset, until the light was too weak for him to work. I put him up in a guest room so that we could begin early the next morning.

"He worked at a painfully slow pace and would keep me in the same position for hours on end. I really think he had no concept of time when he held a brush. That's probably what accounted for his mastery of detail. I had little patience to begin with and modeling for him was close to unbearable. The whole painting took a week of ten hours a day sessions to complete. I remember I would get tired after only half an hour in the same pose and would try to secretly adjust my position. Each time I did so, he would patiently set his brush down, stand up, walk over to me and gently reset my position. His small elfin hands felt comforting and in time I began to shift positions on purpose so that he would have to come over. I reacted willingly to his touch. My ruse worked and by the fourth day, we were lovers. He called the painting 'The Rendezvous.' It seemed appropriate. I bought three more works in the fall of 1674 at five hundred silver francs apiece. He, of course, delivered them to me personally. He died the next year.

"'The Rendezvous' is the only portrait I have of myself as Emil Restoud. I kept it in my home in Amsterdam for over two hundred and fifty years. It hung in the same room in which he painted it. I lost a part of myself when those bastards took it off my wall."

I leaned forward in my chair. "Do you have an attachment like that with all the pieces in your collection?"

"I have a history with all of them, and they are all very precious to me, but 'The Rendezvous' is special, as special as Jan was. I loved him."

"Where is it now?"

"It's in Tunis," he said, brightening up. "The Italians have leased it to them for one year. I intend for it to be in my possession by the end of that year. Security in the Tunisian National Gallery is suspect."

"How will you go about finding someone if I choose not to help you?"

"There are several people I can contact. This certainly wouldn't be the first piece I've procured," he said in a sly voice.