Fiecundite

A crime of some sophistication executed with such flawless methodology that the perpetrator is not only never apprehended, but a convincing suspect is never even investigated. Pronounced to rhyme with "crudite," it should come as no surprise that this word derives from French. In 1957, Emanuelle Fiecundite was a gallic painter of shady origins. Letters were addressed to the elusive artiste both Mr. and Ms., his or her visage was completely unknown, any self-portraits only dubiously guessed-at and, in any case, too perplexingly amateurish to offer any concrete insight. Fiecundite had no sons or daughters, or friends, or parents, or brothers or sisters. Though for the most part - in my estimation rightly - overlooked, for a moment at the end of the sixth decade of the 20th century, this enigmatic artist was exhibited in the august halls of the Parisian Musee d'Orsay. This exceptionally viewer-friendly museum's holdings date from 1848 and include, today, Kandinskys, Picassos, Matisses, and no more the three Fiecundite works (called, respectively, Fiecundite Un, Fiecundite Deux, Fiecundite Trois) that represented simultaneously the culmination of an invisible life dedicated to bad painting, and a moment of surpassingly poor judgment on the part of the museum's curators, for in '57 they were expertly pilfered by unknown agents. Detectives at the time marveled at the unparalleled professionalism of the thief, or thieves, who left absolutely no trace of his or their presence save the absence of the Fiecundite trio, while art critics and collectors were beside themselves with rage over the inexpressible bad taste of the crime, which left numerous priceless masterpieces on the walls. Fiecundite himself (or herself) was, of course, the first person the Prefecture of Police sought out following the heist, only to discover that the artist had died in mysterious circumstances involving a swimming pool, a hot air balloon, and quite possibly a sling shot. In Fiecundite's last will and testament, everything (which wasn't much) had been bequeathed to the American entertainer Jackie Gleason, who had never heard of Fiecundite. The paintings, such as they were, have never been seen again.