Secrets of the Gardner Museum Surveillance Video (The Outdoor Camera)

The release of the Gardner Museum surveillance video from the night before the robbery, on August 6, 2015, should go down in history as the worst crowd sourcing campaigns ever. Locals pronounce it crowd saucing. Perhaps it should be spelled  "saucing," too, since that term more accurately reflects this peculiarly half-hearted effort at community engagement. 

The silent surveillance video itself is so dense in clues and information that, set to music, in the right hands, it could practically qualify as an interpretive dance.  The video itself has become part of the culture, the world of art in its own right,  as part of a series of works by Kota Ezawa called “Gardner Museum Revisited”

It all begins mundanely enough.  At the very start, the video shows a very tall, older guard staring blankly ahead, like a million other souls working overnight on a weekend, safeguarding the belonging of others, to earn their daily bread. An early morning Saturday, in the middle of March, it is getting on towards one in the morning. In the Ezawa work the guard is transfixed, a Waiting for Godot type figure. He was often mistaken for the mystery visitor himself, in the media, since he is the first, most clearly shown person to appear in the video. 

In the video released to the public, this guard starts to head out of the security station towards the outside, Palace Rd. door, before the video quickly switches back to the outdoor cam for a few seconds. Then, when it resumes the indoor view, we see the guard had stopped in his tracks at the doorway. He does an about face and returns to his original spot, his face obscured in video timestamp owing to his great height.

Still waiting, perhaps impatiently, the seconds slowly ticking off, and the older guard begins speaking to his co-worker, the other guard working that shift, Rick Abath. Abath is not quite yet shown on the surveillance camera. But the older guard is shown explaining something with a measured firmness while pointing in the opposite direction of the door with his left hand. 

The activity inside the security station, captured on video, is inter-spliced, like a resounding visual gong by views from the surveillance camera outdoors every few seconds. This back-and-forth can effectively interrupt any thread of a narrative for the viewer of the depictions inside or out, and up to this point has shown absolutely nothing but an inert urban landscape outside the museum.  
  

Then, at the 25 second mark on the video (47:31) on the time stamp, when the camera image returns from back outdoors, again, to the inside, the guard’s left hand which had been resting, and extended on the counter, has now formed something of a closed circle shape, as if it is about to extend into a fist, and what appears to be a stuffed toy seems to pop out from his size 6 (hat size) fist.  

About 20 seconds passes. The guard remains standing. He may or may not be speaking with the other guard, who is positioned where the surveillance monitors can be viewed, but this other guard, Rick Abath cannot be seen on camera himself. 

Then, at the 47:52 indoor timestamp mark, the older guard’s passive aspect changes. His attention has been aroused. He makes a purposeful and direct move down to the other end of the counter, as if he is suddenly alerted to some opportunity or danger, like a big cat at the zoo.

The video switches again to the outdoor surveillance view, which then shows a car heading down Palace Road, a one-way street, in the wrong direction toward the museum.   
   

As the guard reaches the end of the counter, he drops the mystery object he had been holding in his hand onto the desk behind the counter, near the other guard. He points his finger in an emphasizing, and somewhat intimidating fashion. He then quickly turns playful, licking his hand in a way that is perhaps suggestive of the salt-chaser associated with drinking tequila, and grins with lascivious expectation. While his behavior is suspicious, he is relaxed, almost giddy, suggesting that if he were involved and the robbery did go off as planned, that he was confident this surveillance tape would be taken along with the tape from the actual robbery, though it was not. 

The other guard (Rick Abath) now comes into view.  He is listening intently on the phone with both hands visible. He seems to be fully engaged with the phone, but not in a conversational or social sense. He appears more like someone waiting for “the tone” in order to leave a voice mail message.   

 

Meanwhile, as the older guard intently observes the surveillance monitor, the Visitor’s  hatchback vehicle is making its way down Palace Road, toward the service entrance of the Gardner Museum. Though Palace Road is a one way street and the vehicle is heading in the wrong (illegal) direction, the car is being driven in-reverse and with the headlights off. 

With little to no traffic at that hour, it would take under two minutes, to circle around and approach the building lawfully.  This would seem to be the common sense route for anyone coming to the museum at that hour for any licit or illicit purpose.  

Turning the headlights off provides little cover in the barren urban nightscape, since the car's  taillights are on.  If this were an effort at concealment, it would seem a poor choice, seeming only to make the still visible car even more attention getting from most directions.   

However, if the driver wanted to give a little advanced notice, in this era before cellphones, of his approach, from the night view of a surveillance video, then this would be one way to do it. There would be little if any question who it was that was approaching the museum in that strange way if it were a pre-arranged signal.    

As with other key events in the video there is a glitch in the video at the moment that the vehicle first appears. Still it seems that the car had one tail light blocked when it first shows up on the video, that the car stopped momentarily and then moved again with two full tail lights on. 

Upon arriving, the driver does not park. He simply stops the car. The car remains in about the same spot it was in when the brake lights came on, about three feet away from the curb.   Also there is no “third brake-light” in the back window or thereabouts, federally mandated on all cars sold in the U.S. after 1986, suggesting an older vehicle.

What is the advantage for anyone to park three feet away from the curb and three feet further walking distance from their destination? Is this something a museum employee, a supervisor would do? 

One possible explanation is that this position puts the Visitor in darkness upon exiting the vehicle from the driver's side door.  However, it also adds to the amount of head-to-toe exposure recorded by the surveillance video, in walking from the car to the curb. The car’s interior courtesy light does not come on when the door is opened, so exposure of the inside of the car or the driver getting out is not an issue. And it is also legal to park beside the curb on the other side of the street facing the same direction on the one way street. Why park in the middle of the street? 

One unique feature of the exact, precise spot where the driver positioned the vehicle, is that it is that a nearby streetlight reflects off the rear view mirror inside the visitor's vehicle. Watching the car arrive and depart you can see how very exactly positioned the car is to have the streetlight reflect on the rear view mirror.  

Streetlight reflects off rearview mirror 

This reflected light inside the car’s interior goes on and off, in a manner of speaking, a few times before the visitor exits the car to enter the building. Something or someone inside the vehicle briefly blocks the streetlight from reflecting off the rear view mirror several times.    

Possibly this was being used as a signal to the guards inside or to confederates nearby. The reflected light is blocked for several seconds while the older guard makes his way of out of the security station. It then "blinks" again right before the Visitor exits the vehicle at 48:51. 

Since he is just starting his round, he could be taking a bathroom break for a few minutes there would be no expectation of his footsteps being picked up in a gallery right away. 

The entrance used by the Visitor this night and by the robbers on the following one is completely unilluminated when the door is closed.  A person standing by the closed-door at that hour be shrouded in darkness.  The older guard who left the security station right before the visitor arrived or someone else could have been used to keep watch outside of the museum undetected by the surveillance camera. In the days before cell phones this would be the best spot for a lookout since you could use the intercom system to contact the security station to communicate a warning.  

So just 18 seconds after the older guard left the security station, with nowhere to go except Palace Rd. where the visitor is parked outside, the visitor himself is unmistakably visible striding towards the museum at 48:57,

Visitor walking to museum entrance
after guard leaves security station

Does he begin to comport himself in a way that one might expect of someone with a legitimate or even an illicit purpose when approaching an art museum in the middle of the night?  

No. Upon reaching the curb the visitor steps up with one foot and then does a pirouette on to the sidewalk.  He has now given the camera a view of both his left and his right side. He is definitely not carrying any bulky packages like someone making a restaurant take-out delivery.  It is not an inebriated reveler, or a senior citizen making that move onto the curb.  A night time security supervisor, or other employees, knowing of the camera, would be unlikely to reach the museum and its entrance door in this peculiar way.   

This visitor has surrendered or communicated a lot of information, eliminating the possibilities of the legitimate purpose might be, or even an illicit one that spring to mind.  A drug dealer would not risk an encounter with the police simply to save two minutes in transit by driving down a one way street in reverse.  They would also avoid parking in the street, three feet from the curb, with the lights on, another move that could invite police scrutiny.  

After alighting with a twirl on the sidewalk, the Visitor is not seen again in the darkness of the building's exterior or anywhere at all for 19 seconds, Then the door at 49:17 begins to open he can be seen starting to exit the building at 49:18. 

The outdoor camera does not show the visitor entering the building, the first time, nor does it show the visitor being buzzed into the building the first time he entered. Furthermore the guard Abath is seen talking on the intercom from 49:13 to 49:15 and then pressing the buzzer at 49:15 to let someone in when we can be sure the visitor is already in the building since the visitor is seen exiting the building at starting at 49:17. 

The visitor comes out, lingers at the door for a few seconds walks out to the car, turns the car "parking" lights on and is back to the door 21 seconds later.  During the first ten seconds of this excursion, Abath repeatedly hits the buzzer several times, then stops until the visitor is back inside the first door ten seconds later.

So the first time we see the visitor at the door he is coming out of the museum not going into it.  And before heading to his car he bends over and seemingly props open the door somehow, before making his trip to his car. This takes a little under four seconds. But the 85 year old door of heavy oak extends out beyond a small step, out over the concrete. 

  

None of the motions the visitor makes seem consistent with actually doing anything to prop open the door. The visitor's hands are too far out, past the door knob. to be propping it open with his hands. He seems to be holding it open with his rear end as he is bent over. Possibly a lookout, waiting outside, the guard who was observed leaving the museum seconds earlier held the door open during the visitor's brief trip back to the car. 

It does appear possible that someone is waiting outside in the darkness. Someone who can be seen when the door is partly opened, but before the visitor himself has come out. 

Door Partly Open Visitor Still Inside

Visitor in Doorway While Exiting Building

The image outside when the visitor is just inside the door opening it is nearly identical to one about four minutes later when the visitor is in fact already outside and the door is partly opened a comparable amount as he closes it.  We know who is outside when the door is closed at 53:10 but who is outside when the door is opening at 49:18. 

In any case, the museum’s service entrance outer door is wide open as he makes his return trip to his vehicle. This is surely a flagrant violation of the Museum’s security rules.  And for what purpose? Abath is shown hitting the button a few times as the visitor makes his way back to the car. It appears the visitor suddenly turned around to go back to his car before going through the second door without informing Abath, who with his back turned was not aware.  

But then Abath stops hitting the buzzer opening the door and would be able to see that the door was open on the monitor. Therefore he would only need to buzz the visitor in once his second time instead of two, which is what the surveillance footage shows, Abath pressing the button one time after a several second where he was nowhere near the buzzer.  He knew the outer door had been left open while the visitor went to his car. 

The propped open door serves no logistical function.  A trip back to the car to turn on the car's lights would seem pointless as well. Perhaps it was indeed a dry run of some aspects of the robbery. It certainly showed a comfort level with the ins and outs (literally) of the museum as well as an utter indifference to security protocols.

So the visitor came in very briefly, not going through the second door, then went right out again, quickly returning to his car and turning the “parking lights,” on, meaning with the head lights still off. 


The visitor is back to the museum entrance in under ten seconds after he returned to his car.  His first entrance into the outside-door is not part of the surveillance video. Upon his return, he is seen bending down as if to remove a doorstop and popping up tall to his full height with the light streaming upon him from inside the museum. In both cases the propping open of the door and then the un-propping of it, if that is what actually occurred, is done with great efficiency and dispatch without a stumble or moments of hesitancy, which makes it doubtful this is actually what was going on.  They may not have wanted to have two people standing outside by the door. 

Already the visitor has given away quite a lot about who he is by way of who he is not. He is not a drug dealer. A drug dealer making a delivery is a crime in progress.  He would not flout traffic laws so openly and draw attention to himself by parking illegally with the lights on carrying illegal drugs. 

He is not a food delivery person. There are no bundles carried in and delivery drivers get as close to the entrance as possible. 

The visitor is not an employee. An employee would be aware of the camera and would not break traffic rules, park in the middle of the street and break security procedures by leaving the outer door open.

He is not an older, middle aged man or a late night drunk, notice the coordination with which he pirouettes onto the curb. He is also not one of Rick Abath’s band mates or stoner friends from Allston, stopping  by for a Saturday night chat. He moves with quickness and purpose, not the furtive shambling of someone heading for an illicit, quick, late night high. His haircut and clothes are not that of a rock band member. 

There were three methods the visitor could have used to protect his identity for this meeting. The first is to have the meeting with Abath somewhere offsite. The second is the generic, it could be anybody approach, by doing nothing out of the ordinary. Or the visitor could pose as something: a food delivery guy, a bandmate, or friend or acquaintance from the Boston music scene wanting to borrow some equipment for a gig.  The next evening two men posed as policeman to rob the Gardner. This visitor from the night before is not posing as anything that would seem familiar for a late night visitor in these circumstances. 

The other possible explanation is that the visitor is purposely giving away clues to their identity with a purpose. The goal is not to get caught, but to quickly be identified. If someone took the paintings to use them as a bargaining chip as a “get out of jail free” card for instance. If they are involved with some federal crime in a different state and want to negotiate, they may not want to be caught or identified by state or local police. 

If the paintings were stolen for ransom, the museum would have them by now, unless the authorities turned down the deal.  A ransom note the museum received said that is exactly why the paintings were taken, and that a deal could not be reached:

“The letter writer stated that the paintings had been stolen to gain someone a reduction in a prison sentence, but as that opportunity had dwindled dramatically there was no longer a primary motive for keeping the artwork,” Stephen Kurkjian wrote in Master Thieves. 

And eighteen years after the fact on “American Greed” Lead FBI investigator Geoff Kelly said that letter is something they continue to take very seriously.   

In 2013 then Museum Director Anne Hawley said that in the aftermath of the robbery,  "We also were threatened by criminals who wanted attention from the FBI.”  That could be potentially be someone who wants to make a deal, but whom the FBI was not interested discussing a deal with at that time, or were stalling because they did not have ability or authority to make a deal with this particular criminal. 

It could be that the robber would want certain authorities to know that he was the one who took the paintings to negotiate their return, but he may not want his picture on the front page, and he might also want to protect the identity and privacy of the people who were in on the job with him.

He might also not want to confess, to strengthen his negotiating position and ensure he is found out by the law enforcement agency of his own place and choosing.   

This may not be  what happened, but a perpetrator could want to be identifiable to a greater or lesser degree, in order to authenticate that he is indeed someone who was involved and could

negotiate the return of the stolen art.

A horizontal line on the door made it a very simple matter to determine the visitor’s exact height quickly. The mark is an idea height for being used to determine this particular visitor’s height as well.  Anything other than an ideal height, and it may be seen, too high up and it may not be noticed, too low and it would be blocked.  And knowing this information within two inches, between 5’11 and 6’1” for example would eliminate over eighty percent of other potential male suspects.

Television footage of several Boston Police leaving the Gardner Museum on the day after the robbery show that the visitor was about an inch shorter than the tallest police officer in the group based on that convenient white line on the door at just under the visitor’s height.

The Visitor reveals more clues about his identity, authenticating himself, during his three minute meeting with Gardner Museum security Rick Abath, inside the museum which is discussed in Secrets of the Gardner Museum Surveillance Video (The Indoor Camera)