The Rainbow

#115 - Part 1 - I swapped the winter season in the US for the summertime in the small tourist and sports-oriented town of El Chalten, Patagonia, Argentina.

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The Rainbow

I “procured” it, and I sold it. The Rainbow has been good to me.

“The Rainbow,” as it has come to be known, is a necklace of diamonds, rubies, sapphires, and emeralds. A splendid display of the richest and purest colored gems. All on a gold chain.

It would cost a small fortune on the open marketplace, but to a private collector the price is, negotiable.

Generally acknowledged as originating in China, it has known multiple homes in its storied known and unknown history. Today it resides in Patagonia.

But not for long. I’m going to procure it again. I have another client.

I swapped the winter season in the US for the summertime in the small tourist and sports-oriented town of El Chalten, Patagonia, Argentina. I arrived by bus after my flights from Miami to Buenos Aires and El Calafate and would be spending two weeks being the tourist, hiking and paragliding the surrounding mountains. Campers and the like were commonplace.

It was a diversion, my cover story. A few clothes, necessities, and specialized canopy parachute, fit into my carryon sized backpack. I would rent a paraglider from a local company or club.

I lacked a firearm, and it was unlikely I could secure one in El Chalten without leaving a memory or a paper trail. That left me with some concern. Things could go bad in an instant. I could probably score a knife. In my manicure kit was a nailfile and toothpick with which to pick locks and with luck it would be all I would need.

I would have to be lucky to pull off the heist.

A few miles from El Chalten is the beautiful compound owned by Senor Roberto Rodriguez. The Senor is a rich man, a very rich man. He heads one of South America’s largest hedge funds.

The Rainbow is now a part of his art collection, a part of which is open to the public. His private stash is separate, somewhere else on the grounds.

His property, a stately old Spanish style hacienda, lies well up on a mountain, the rear of which abuts a sheer cliff that drops two thousand feet to the valley floor below. Hence, the reason for my parachute.

A rear balcony juts over the cliff. Google Maps gave me a general idea of the layout. What I would see upon getting up close was unclear, but I was up for it.

It is popular tourist destination for both the art and the views. A full-on view of Monte Fitz Roy rises in the near distance.

I knew that The Senor was in Cannes at the time. He was a gambler and gambling a lot after the death of his wife, the result of a boating incident. Senor Rodriguez was the suspected intended victim. The Senor has a questionable reputation in the sometimes-dark world of private collecting.

It was good he was away, even though it was unlikely he would recognize me if we were to meet again. My present “look” is different, as is the name on my passport, from when we met and I sold him The Rainbow.

I have a burner cellphone.

Where was The Rainbow? The only clue I had was that it was part of his private collection, a memorial to his wife. I suspected the master bedroom.

The showroom at The Senor’s place is open on weekends. In five days. I would be there.

Until then, I rested up, got familiar with El Chalten, and registered with a paragliding club for lessons, pretending to be a novice. I took my first flights.

Early Saturday morning, I hiked up the trail that ran near The Senor’s mansion and hunkered down off trail within sight of the compound. I scouted the compound from a couple vantage points.

Gardeners looked to be finishing up their morning’s work. A large parking lot lay opposite the entry gate, through which a driveway led to a roundabout at the front of the mansion.

A hedged fence and entry gate formed a barrier around the property on three sides, the ends going all the way to the cliff at the rear of the property. A section of the fence extended out over the void. A low fence ran along the cliff to keep people away from the edge.

The hacienda and manicured gardens looked like a postcard.

On each wing of the hacienda was a flowering fire-red notro tree.

The tree on the left side had a limb that reached near the upstairs rear balcony. It might give me access to the balcony.

Nearby, a gardener gathered trimmed branches into a pile off to the side. A ladder stood against the tree.

At 11 am, I walked through the front gate with tourists who had come up by trail, car, and tour bus.

We showed our IDs and were made to sign in and then out again on departure.

The showroom was a large hall filled with collectables.

A stairway to the mezzanine and upper floor was cordoned off and staffers who also served as docents watched over it.

What a display. The Senor had an eye for beauty. And masterpieces. There were paintings by Dali and Van Gogh, exquisite urns and pottery from China and Iran and native American Indians. French tapestry along with paintings lined the walls. Handcrafted jewelry, carpets, and leather goods from Morocco lay spread out in display.

The Senor liked medieval weaponry - blunderbusses, crossbows, axes, and such.

Waxwork figures like those in Madame Tussaud's of London posed lifelike in period dress and accoutrements.

The Rainbow was not to be seen, which was not surprising. I suspected it to be upstairs. But where, and how long to find it was foremost in my mind. I wouldn’t have much time, and if I set off an alarm, the jig was up. I would have one chance only.

In looking around, I saw no security devices but assumed they were there. There must be something. Laser beams or sound or motion detectors. Walking through the showroom at night to get to the stairs would not be wise. I opted to find an entry on the outside, hopefully on the second floor.

I played the tourist for a couple of hours and before exiting the property, I ambled through the gardens for a closer look at the grounds.

Geese were housed in two locations on either side of the property. They are great at night. They sound the alarm at intruders and unfamiliar sounds.

Looking as inconspicuous as I could, I small-talked with other tourists and took pictures at the cliff edge of Monte Fitz Roy.

I thought I could use the fence at the cliff edge to get on the property. It was daunting, but with nerve, it was a good place to gain entry.

Nearing the notro tree, I couldn’t tell if the limb near the balcony would support me. I had my doubts. The gardens on the other side of the hacienda revealed no easier access.

I signed out at the entry gate and walked down the road toward the trail.

I reached my hiding place, ate a bit, and closed my eyes for a little while.

By late afternoon, the tourists were gone and all was quiet.

Then sunset, then dark, and just before moonrise, I made my move.

Pt 2 - The Rainbow Around Her Neck

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