The Daylight Cat Burglar: Pipino and the Madonna Col Bambino - PART II
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Sources:
https://medium.com/epic-magazine/pipino-gentleman-thief-ede9713dafb1 https://news.artnet.com/art-world/meet-vincenzo-pipino-venices-notorious-gentleman-art-thief-148148 https://www.theguardian.com/world/2018/nov/17/venice-jewellery-heist-expert-insight-from-the-gentleman-thief
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Zevon Odelberg is a true crime podcast host and disability advocate. Zevon has cerebral palsy and he wants Kinda Murdery to be welcoming community for people with disabilities and for people living with challenges of any kind. Life can be hard, but being together makes it better.
Warning, Kind of Murdery contains adult themes, explicit language, and descriptions of
violence. It is not suitable for anyone, and we recommend you stop listening
now. True crime with a dash of the paranormal, the garish, the
strange in the darkly comic. I'm zevn Odelberg, host of Kind of Murdery,
a podcast that's about more than just murder. It's my very own pocket
dimension, home to a curated collection of bizarre and compelling stories, the unsolved,
the unsettling, and the unbelievable. I cover it all just so long
as it's kind of Murdery. Welcome everyone, Just like it says in the
intro, I am zevn Odelberg, and this is kind of Murdery. You've
found your way to Part two of The Daylight Cat Burglar, Peppino and the
Madonnaco Bambino. So if you haven't heard part one yet, go back and
listen to it. If you're all caught up, then we're ready to rock.
If you remember from the last episode, we're just about to embark on
the museum art heist that Peppino was forced into against his will by Venice's notorious
Mafia the Mala del Brenta. If you're ready to find out just how that
went down, then please do join me as we uncover what truths we can
and solve what mysteries we may kind of murders. The Daylight cat Burglar,
Peppino and the Madonnacle Bambino, Part two starts now. On that fateful day
of October ninth, nineteen ninety one, Vincenzo Peppino blended seamlessly with the throng
of tourists at the Ducale Palace. The palace itself was a testament to Venice's
storied past, an architectural marvel where gothicss mingled with Renaissance arches and Mannerist statues,
each element contributing to its otherworldly charm. Now a museum, the palace
stood as a proud reminder of the Venetian Republic's glory. Peppino, with the
practiced ease of a man well versed in the art of deception, followed the
tour group through the grandeur of the palace, surrounded by the trappings of the
once mighty Empire. He was acutely aware of the contrast between the opulence of
the palace and the grim reality of the adjoining prison, famously connected by the
poetically named bridge of size. Here he was no stranger, his previous visits
having laid the groundwork for what he was about to undertake. As the tour
progressed into the prison, the shift from marble to limestone marked a transition to
a darker chapter of the palace's history. Here Peppino saw his opportunity. He
let the group move ahead, and in the shadowy corridors, he slipped into
a cell, the heavy door closing behind him. There, in the pitch
black of the cell, the fears of his childhood resurfaced, echoes of ghost
stories and the haunting image of the Gamba de Oro lingering in his mind.
Meanwhile, Alfredo, Peppino's younger brother, had carved out a different path for
himself. Beyond being the legendary Peppino's brother, Alfredo had no connection to the
Venetian underworld. His new venture, the Magic Castle, was a realization of
his lifelong dream, a place where magic and wonder transcended them mundane. Yet
his association with Peppino cast a shadow over his endeavors. The police's suspicion of
Alfredo's involvement in Peppino's crimes, despite Alfredo's innocence, was a source of contention
and worry for the brothers. This latest heist, orchestrated under the looming threat
of the Mala del Breno, was a far cry from Peppino's usual, more
discreet operations. The stakes were higher, the risks greater. Stealing from the
Ducale Palace, especially under the influence of a ruthless mobster, was not just
about executing a perfect theft. It was about protecting Alfredo from any fallout.
Peppino's resolve was clear. The heist had to go flawlessly. Any misstep,
any hint of a connection to Alfredo, could have dire consequences. In the
darkness of the cell where he had voluntarily imprisoned himself, Peppino waited, his
mind, undoubtedly racing through the plan, every detail meticulously arranged. The success
of this operation hinged not just on his skills as a thief, but on
his ability to navigate the treacherous waters of Venice's criminal underworld. For Peppino,
this was more than just another heist. It was a test of his ability
to protect those he loved while walking the razor's edge of his dangerous profession.
In the dead of night, within the historic walls of the Ducale Palace,
Vincenzo Peppino orchestrated a heist that would forever mark his name in the annals of
Venetian lore. The palace, a testament to Venice's opulent past, stood silent
as Vincenzo timed the guard's rounds, preparing for his daring endeavor. At approximately
two am. Seizing the opportunity as a guard's footsteps receded into silence, Peppino
ventured from his hiding place in the prison cell. He crossed the bridge of
Size, a path tread by countless before him, but under far different circumstances.
His target was the solid de Censore, a room that bore the solemn
portraits of the Censore, the guardians of Venice's public institutions. Amidst these austere
figures was the Madonna col Bambino, a painting of immense historical and symbolic significance,
akin to a sacred relic of the Venetian state. Peppino's first attempt to
reach the painting, perged fourteen feet above the ground, was fraught with risk.
The creaking of the fragile fregio under his weight was a stark reminder of
the perilous nature of his task. A returning guard's footsteps hastened his retreat,
forcing him to conceal himself once more on the bridge. In a moment of
palpable tension, he narrowly evaded detection, the guard, unknowingly passing just inches
away. After the guard's departure, Peppino returned to the cell to wait for
another chance. Time was of the essence, and by three in the morning
he was back in the solid de sensory, this time equipped with a step
ladder found in a custodial closet. His actions were swift and precise as he
delicately separated the Madonnaco Bambino from the wall, the painting sorrowful gaze bearing witness
to his deed. The symbolism of the theft was profound. As he exited
the palace with the madonna undercover. The empty space on the wall stood as
a testament to his audacity, a challenge to the authority of the state itself.
The sensory, once overseers of justice, could only gaze upon the void
left in the wake of Peppino's daring. As dawn broke, the theft of
the Madonnaco Bambino sent shockwaves through Venice. Chief Palmosi, arriving at the scene,
immediately recognized the hallmarks of a master thief. The meticulous execution, the
absence of forced injury, and the calculated selection of the madonna all pointed to
an individual with a deep understanding of Venice's artistic heritage. However, in his
careful planning, Peppino had overlooked one detail, a faint shoeprint in the dust
at the base of the wall. It was a rare mistake, a tangible
clue, and a crime otherwise marked by its precision. Pilmosi, observing the
outline of the shoe print, understood the significance of this oversight. For the
first time, the elusive Peppino had left a trace, a potential lead in
the ongoing game of cat and mouse between thief and law man. As photographs
of the shoeprint were taken, the realization dawned that this might be the key
to unraveling the mystery of the Madonna's disappearance in the world of art. Theft,
where subtlety and anonymity are paramount, even the smallest error can have far
reaching consequences. For Peppino, this unintended clue was a reminder of the ever
present danger in his line of work, a danger that now loomed closer and
more dangerous than ever. In a tense race against time, Chief Palmosi,
armed with the crucial clue of the shoe print a clerk's shoe, specifically despatched
his officers to apprehend Peppino. The urgency of the situation was heightened by a
leak to the press which detailed the discovery of the footprint at the crime scene.
This information, now public, threatened to alert Peppino, giving him a
chance to dispose of the incriminating evidence. Meanwhile, Peppino, unaware of the
developing situation, was planning a leisurely day in Venice, but his morning routine
was interrupted by the front page news of his latest heist in ill Gazatino.
The initial sense of accomplishment from reading about his successful theft turned to alarm when
he learned about the footprint left behind. Realizing the imminent danger, he glanced
at the clark's shoes that had unwittingly betrayed him. Peppino acted quickly. He
knew that the winding alleys of Venice offered both concealment and risk of sudden police
encounters. He navigated the narrow lanes to park by the water, where he
filled his shoes with rocks and cast them into the depths of the lagoon,
erasing the physical evidence of his involvement in the heist. As the police arrived
at his door mere minutes later, Peppino, now barefoot and feigning nonchalance,
greeted them with a cheerful offer of coffee. The officers, conducting a swift
search of his apartment, found no trace of the Clark's shoes. The absence
of the key evidence left them with little choice but to invite Peppino to the
station for a conversation with Palmosi. Peppino, maintaining his composure, agreed to
accompany them, his smile masking the relief of having just outmaneuvered the authorities as
he prepared to leave. His request to put on a pair of shoes was
a subtle reminder of the evidence he had just eradicated, a move that kept
him one step ahead in the ongoing cat and mouse game with the law In
the intricate dance of thief versus Detective, Peppino's quick thinking and knowledge of Venice's
streets had once again given him the upper hand. His brother Alfredo, starting
his day at the Magic Castle, was confronted with the alarming news in Il
Gazatino that instantly set off a chain of thoughts. The quote at taco a
Palazzo Ducale unquote headline detailing the audacious theft of the Ducale palace was a story
that to any Venetian would have been startling, but for Alfredo it carried an
additional layer of deep concern. As he read through the details, he couldn't
help but draw connection to his brother, the only person he believed capable of
such a feat in Venice. Alfredo's worries were compounded when he stumbled upon another
headline about a brazen robbery in Padua, the theft of Saint Anthony's Chin,
a revered religious relic the literal chin of Saint Anthony, was an act of
criminal defiance that screamed of organized crime's boldness. Though the articles didn't explicitly mention
Mala del Brenta or Monaro, the notorious mob boss's hand inness seemed evident.
To Alfredo, the simultaneous timing of these two high profile crimes was too coincidental
to ignore. The implications were clear and deeply troubling. Alfredo understood that these
thefts were not just isolated incidents of high stakes crime. They were provocative acts,
challenging both the church and civil authorities, a declaration that criminal forces were
overshed sattoing lawful order. Maneiro's aggressive tactics in collecting such bargaining chips indicated a
dangerous escalation in his conflict with the police, one that threatened to plunge the
city into deeper turmoil. For Alfredo, the personal stakes were high. His
brother's potential involvement in the Ducale heist, combined with the aggressive actions of the
Mala del Brenta, signaled a volatile mix that could spiral out of control.
The prospect of increased police scrutiny and the possibility of Vincenzo being caught in the
crossfire between law enforcement and organized crime weighed heavily on Alfredo. As he finished
his espresso, Alfredo's mind was clouded with concern. He prayed that the situation
would not escalate. Further aware that the intertwining of high profile crimes could lead
to unpredictable and potentially disastrous consequences. In a city like Venice, where the
line between illusion and reality is often blurred, the unfolding events seemed to be
part of a larger, more dangerous narrative, one that could have far reaching
impact on everyone involved, including Alfredo knew his family. In the complex chess
game of Venetian crime and law enforcement, Vincenzo Peppino found himself in a precarious
position. Unaware of Monieiro's simultaneous heist, Peppino's own carefully orchestrated theft of the
Ducale Palace now seemed overshadowed by the audacious robbery of Saint Anthony's chin in Padua.
For Peppino, a man of Catholic faith and superstition, the sacrilegious nature
of Manieiro's act was disturbing. Pope John Paul the Second's public condemnation of the
relic's theft only heightened the sense of desecration. Upon his arrival at the police
station, Peppino was met with an uncharacteristically harsh reception from Chief Palmosi. The
detective's blunt accusation and palpable anger marked a stark departure from their usual encounters,
which were typically imbued with a certain level of mutual respect and indirectness. Palmosi
declared that he knew Peppino had stolen the madonna. I don't know what you're
talking about, Peppino responded, taken aback by Palmosi's directness. You're a liar,
Palmosi retorted, his frustration evident. Peppino was accustomed to a certain decorum
in his interactions with Palmosi, but this time the detective's accusation felt personal and
devoid of the usual subtlety. I want to help, Chief, Peppino offered,
attempting to steer the conversation back to a more familiar territory. However,
Palmosi was unmoved, indicating the gravity of the situation. His mention of special
surveillance signified an escalation in the police's approach toward Peppino. This level of scrutiny,
typically reserved for violent criminals and the mafia, would severely limit Peppino's movements
and interactions, jeopardizing not only his illicit activities, but also his personal connections.
Peppino's concern extended beyond himself to his brother Alfredo. The possibility of Alfredo
getting entangled in the fallout with the detrimental effects on his newly opened Magic Castle,
added another layer of urgency to Peppino's predicament. I give you my word.
I know it is a thief's word, but I give you my word
that you'll recover the Madonna, Peppino said, aware that the situation was more
complicated because Monieiro and the Mala del Brenda were in possession of the painting.
How can I trust you, Palmosi questioned, skeptical of Peppino's promise. I
am your friend, Peppino replied, trying to invoke the underlying bond that had
characterized their previous interactions. Palmosi, faced with the need to recover the stolen
Madonna, contemplated Peppino's offer. Despite his doubts, he recognized that Peppino might
be his best chance at retrieving the painting. If I said yes, Palmosi
began considering the possibility. I'll need some room no cops following me. Peppino
negotiated, seeking the freedom necessary to maneuver Palmosi, pressured by time and the
complexity of the situation, didn't directly agree, but implied his consent. Peppino
was now tasked with a daunting mission to retrieve the Madonna col Bambino from the
dangerous and heavily guarded clutches of the Mala del Brenta. You'll get the Madonna
back in twenty days, Peppino promised, committing to a timeline that would test
his abilities to their fullest. In this high stake scenario, Peppino had to
navigate not only the perilous underworld of Monieiro's domain, but also maintain a delicate
balance with the law embodied by Palmosi. The challenge was immense, and the
risks were higher than ever before. Vincenzo Peppino's tales about the aftermath of the
Ducale heist are a masterclass in misdirection and narrative manipulation, much like the meticulously
crafted illusions that were the hallmark of his magician brother Alfredo. In the world
of deception and sleight of hand, what the audience perceives is only a fraction
of the truth. Each perspective carefully tailored to suit different observers. Peppino,
a seasoned thief and storyteller, played this game with a plum, spinning various
narratives to keep his audience, the police, the press, and the mob
perpetually off balance and intrigued. The first narrative Peppino presented was to Chief Palmosi,
a claim of innocence, paired with an offer to assist in retrieving the
stolen madonna. This story was a strategic move to maintain his delicate relationship with
the law, positioning himself as a helpful intermediary rather than a suspect. The
second story, the claim of a vacation in the Seychelles during the critical period
following the heist, was classic misdirection. While Peppino asserted that he was abroad,
effectively removing himself from the scene, journalist Giorgio Chichetti of La Nuova,
Venezia expressed skepticism, humorously suggesting that the quote Seychelles unquote might have been a
local bar rather than the actual islands. The later revelation that Peppino's trip to
the Seychelles occurred months after the heist further discredited his alibi, underscoring the illusionist
nature of his storytelling. Nearly twenty years after the theft of the Madonna,
in twenty ten, Peppino would publish a book entitled Stealing from the Rich Is
Not a Sin, and in the book he introduced yet another version of events,
a narrative seemingly crafted for the eyes of Monieiro and his associates. He
claimed to have orchestrated the return of the painting even before its theft, implying
a pre arranged agreement with Monieiro's lieutenant Roby. This account, while serving Peppino's
interests by shifting responsibility to Roby, raised questions about its plausibility given the limited
time frame it allowed for Monieiro to utilize the painting as a bargaining chip,
which of course, had been the purported reason for stealing it in the first
place. Each of these narratives served a distinct purpose, tailored to the perspectives
and interests of different groups involved in or following the case. To the police,
Peppino was a potential ally. To the press, he was an enigmatic
figure whose actions were shrouded in mystery. To the mob, he was a
cun and collaborator, playing his part in a larger scheme. Throughout these varying
accounts, Peppino consistently maintained that he played a minimal role in the events following
his with Palmosi. This stance allowed him to navigate the treacherous waters between the
law and the criminal underworld, keeping both sides guessing while protecting his own interests.
In the realm of high stakes thievery and artful deception, Peppino's tales exemplified
the art of keeping the whole truth perpetually elusive, ensuring his audience, whether
it be the police, the mob, or the public, remained both baffled
and captivated. In twenty fourteen, at age seventy one, Peppino's life of
daredevil heists and artful deceptions had given away to a quieter but no less complex
chapter. Reflecting on his legacy, he found himself in a situation far removed
from the romanticized escapades of his youth. No longer scaling the historic buildings of
Venice, he had been ensnared by a different, darker side of the criminal
underworld, and was serving an eleven year sentence for trafficking cocaine. Finally confronted
with the consequences of a life spent in the shadows of legality. But in
the twilight of his adventurous life, Peppino was drawn to tell another story,
possibly his final act of narrative sculpture, this time the stories about those mysterious
twenty days following the Ducale heist, a period shrouded in mystery and speculation.
It's a story that he hopes will cast a new light on his past actions,
perhaps offering a different perspective on his infamous career. The urge to share
another version of events speaks to Peppino's concern about how he will be remembered.
After a lifetime of eluding capture and defying the odds, he found himself in
the grips of a different type of captivity, prison, which offers ample time
for introspection and reconsideration of past choices. His decision to engage in cocaine trafficking,
a stark departure from his earlier exploits, suggests a yielding to the pressures
of age and the diminishing prospects of his traditional methods of income. It's a
turn that perhaps even he didn't foresee. A final twis in a life that
had been anything but predictable. As Peppino prepared to share his news story,
those who followed his career may have wondered how much of it would be truth
and how much would be yet another layer of intricate illusion. In criminal echoes
of his brother Alfredo, the magician, Peppino had crafted so many misdirections over
the years. You see in the world of Vincenzo Peppino, the lines between
reality and fiction had always been artfully blurred, and his latest tale is likely
to be no exception. But whether this final story the story of what really
happened during the recovery time period that he'd promised to Chief Palmosi those twenty days
after the theft of the Madonnaco Bambino, Whether this story will reshape his legacy
or simply add another chapter to the myth of Peppino, Well, I'll leave
that for you to decide when you rejoin me this coming Thursday for the thrilling
conclusion of the Daylight cat Burglar Peppino and the Madonna Cole Bambino. Until then,
I'm Zevan Odelberg, and this has been kind of murdery. If you
like the show, please subscribe, review and tell your friends. You can
find us on social media at kinda Murdery or email at Kindamurdery at gmail dot com.
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