Following law enforcement investigations, which continue to be carried out, by the Carabinieri TPC, the altarpiece was removed from display at the Palazzo dei Diamanti just three days before the start of the exhibition, due to a "provision from the judicial authority for an ongoing investigation" according to Pietro Di Natale, director of the Ferrara Arte Foundation.  

In the exhibition's dossier, the missing painting is described as being the property of the Collezione Cavallini Sgarbi.  Unfortunately however, for the ex politician, his altarpiece is suspected to be an artwork which was stolen from a noble palace in 1984 belonging to journalist Paganello Spetia in Bevagna. 

In addition to this new suspect painting of Christ after his crucifixion, officers also are investigating the theft of a 1939 terracotta sculpture, titled Madre e Figlio, by Raffaele Consortini, an artist from Volterra, which had been in Sgarbi's possession for many years. 

As can be seen at the end of this video, Sgarbi displayed a sculpture, depicting a mother holding her infant child, during an exhibition titled Giotto and the Twentieth Century which ran from 5 December 2022 to 4 June 2023 at the Mart in Rovereto, another public museum presided over by the art critic.  In this instance, he indicated that the sculpture was the property of the Fondazione Cavallini-Sgarbi.  That said, this artwork too seems to be tied to another theft, as it apparently matches a sculpture reported as stolen twenty-seven years ago. 

In that instance the artwork was apparently taken from the burial chapel of the Nannipieri family, in Cascina, in the Italian region Tuscany, located about 60 kilometres west of Florence.  According to Antonio Nannipieri, a former judge of the Court of Appeal of Florence, the sculpture had been placed on the altar inside his family chapel by his mother shortly after the death of his son Lorenzo Nannipieri,  who died, along with his girlfriend, in an accident in 1987.  Ten years later, in 1997, the chapel was broken in to and the sculpture and two candelabras were stolen. 

In Judge Nannipieri's own words when informed that his son's sculpture was in Sgarbi's possession, he stated: “Maybe he didn’t know it was stolen, but a collector should check the provenance of the things he buys, especially if he then puts them in an exhibition.” 

Leaving aside for a moment that an art historian is more than an average collector, and is fully trained in how to research the origins of works of art, and leaving aside the fact that Sgarbi is now claiming that he too is an "injured party in the proceedings," this leads us to a second critical question, who Sgarbi got all these stolen works from in the first place. 

Just a few hours later, however, the operation fell apart when Mr. Dogaru received a warning that the police were tapping his cellphone. Today, six months on, the fate of the paintings is still unknown, as law enforcement authorities in Romania and the Netherlands, as well as art lovers around the world, struggle to penetrate the fog of claims and counterclaims about what happened to the masterpieces, from the Kunsthal museum in Rotterdam.

Have they been burned, as Mr. Dogaru's mother, Olga, has at times claimed? Or perhaps spirited away by a tall mystery man in a fancy black car, as she has asserted at other times? Or could they, as many in the desolate village of Carcaliu believe, simply be hidden somewhere in this rural corner of Romania?

Mr. Dogaru appears to have hidden the works initially in his family home but later moved at least some of them in a suitcase to the house of his mother’s sister, Marfa Marcu. Mrs. Marcu, in an interview, said she had never opened the suitcase. She says she last saw it when her sister took it away, along with a shovel, soon after Mr. Dogaru’s arrest. 

Mrs. Dogaru has told prosecutors that, with the help of her son’s girlfriend, she buried the case in the yard of an abandoned house. After a few days, they dug it up, wrapped the paintings in plastic and buried them in a nearby cemetery. 

The trail then goes cold. In an interview with prosecutors on Feb. 27, Mrs. Dogaru said that sometime in January, this time acting alone, she dug up the paintings and, desperate to destroy the evidence of her son’s theft, brought them home and burned them all — in a stove used to heat water for the bathroom and a sauna. 

How she managed to do this is not clear. The stove in which Mrs. Dogaru claimed to have shoved all the artworks is barely a foot wide and seems far too small to contain what would have been a bulky bundle of canvas and wood. 

In a written statement on Feb. 28, Mrs. Dogaru retracted the incineration story and said she had, in fact, handed the paintings to a Russian-speaking man, about 40, who arrived at her house in a black car. She explained that her son, whom she visited in prison to get instructions, had told her to expect such a visitor and to give him the paintings.