When an iconic photograph of a famous, but relatively newly discovered photographer disappeared from Momma, New York's top art curators knew for the first time what real panic felt like. I was sensing their fear. I could feel it in my bones. I admit it felt kinda nice… I knew it was a matter of time before the phone rang. And it did, later that night. The Italian connection was on. Of course, I have suspected that too… The only woman -the only person to be more accurate- in the western world that could retrieve a lost art treasure in less than 48 hours, was coming to Athens. It was believed that the photograph was there. I was hired -as I usually am- to follow her and document her work, without her knowing who I really was… What else was knew? Was I working for Momma? Was I working for the smugglers? You will never know. Anyway, I pretended to be un unemployed former journalist and amateur photographer who wanted to make her portrait while she was in Greece. It was one of my most successful and highly paid jobs. It allowed me to buy that little house that my heart was set upon, in Hilo, Hawaii. Anyway, my subject's name was Sciadi -was it her real name?- and hanging out with her was very pleasant, I must admit. A highly educated woman, a curator herself as well as a poet and a writer, she was real fun to be with and I thought to myself that in a different reality we could be friends. But being a Photographic Investigator is a lonely profession. It pays well though… I won't tell you what happened with the photograph either. Just that mis Sciadi never failed…
