I’m the co-author of the recently released Chasing Mona Lisa, a World War II thriller that takes place during the liberation of Paris in August 1944. The fast-paced plot centers around the most famous painting in the world—Leonardo da Vinci’s masterpiece, the Mona Lisa.

Naturally, I did a lot of research about the Mona Lisa, which hangs in the Louvre Museum today and is usually surrounded by a throng of tourists. During World War II, she was evacuated from the Louvre not long after Hitler’s armies unleashed their blitzkrieg of Poland on September 1, 1939. The famous painting was moved to various chateaus in the south of France during the war, and the story is that she was even hung in a little girl’s bedroom for a time.

What many people don’t know is that the Mona Lisa was actually stolen at one time and feared lost forever. This is how co-author Tricia Goyer and I told the story in Chasing Mona Lisa. Gabi Mueller and Eric Hofstadler, our two Swiss undercover agents working for the American OSS spy network, travel to Paris in August 1944. They are driving with Colette Perriard, a curator at the Louvre and the person in charge of the Mona Lisa, when they have this conversation:

“Someone stole the Mona Lisa?” Eric exclaimed from the driver’s seat. “When did that happen?”

“Back on August 21, 1911,” replied Colette [the Louvre curator]. “It was the greatest art theft ever, although no one talks about it now.”

“Since we’re trying to prevent the Mona Lisa from being kidnapped, maybe we can learn something,” Gabi suggested.

“I doubt it,” Colette said. “Even today, the brazen theft seems unfathomable—like the Eiffel Tower falling over. But one Tuesday morning in 1911, a guard walked into the Salon Carré only to find the Mona Lisa missing from her place on the wall. All that remained were four iron hooks and a rectangular shape several shades deeper than the surrounding area. The guard thought the Mona Lisa had been taken away to be photographed. Photography was relatively new in those days, and there was a project at the Louvre to photograph the entire collection. The idea was that in case of damage, loss, or future restoration, the museum would have an accurate picture to work from.

“A few hours passed, and the Mona Lisa was still missing. Someone thought to check with the photography studio, where the guard was greeted with stares as blank as the Salon Carré wall. They had a problem.”

Eric looked into his rearview mirror and locked eyes with Colette. “You mean security was so lax in 1911 that anyone could have walked into the Louvre and walked out with the Mona Lisa?”

“Apparently so. Art treasures were poorly guarded in those days. More than one hundred passkeys floated around the Louvre. The museum was closed the previous day, a Monday, so anybody could have been walking around. The most famous painting in the world wasn’t even wired or bolted to the wall; it hung there on four simple hooks. Once the authorities at the Louvre discovered that the Mona Lisa had been stolen, all France went into a state of shock. Extra editions of Paris newspapers screamed, MONA LISA A DISPARU!

“The Louvre was closed until further notice while the Paris police started an investigation. They stopped cars on their way out of Paris. Trains were searched. Ships inspected. The borders of France sealed. The Louvre curators expected a swift recovery or a ransom demand, but that never materialized. Meanwhile, the story of her disappearance traveled around the world.”

“Did they think it was an inside job?” Gabi asked.

“Initially, yes, but that’s all the police had to go on in those early days. There was tremendous pressure to break the case and recover the painting. When the Louvre reopened a week after the Mona Lisa vanished, long lines of crowds filed through the Salon Carré to view the empty space on the wall, like mourners at a funeral. As the weeks and then months passed and denial turned into acceptance, everyone assumed she was lost forever.”

“So the Mona Lisa wasn’t found right away?” Gabi pictured the long line of mourners.

“Not at all. Fifteen months after her disappearance, France officially called off the search. Public sentiment had turned from shock to sorrow, from disgruntlement to disappointment. When the new Louvre catalog was published in January 1913, the Mona Lisa was not listed in the collection. It looked like the perfect crime, although there were numerous ‘sightings’ all over Europe—Belgium, Holland, and even your Switzerland. Still, the public sentiment was that she was gone for good.”

Colette leaned closer to the front seat. “Pure luck broke the case. An Italian antique dealer named Alfredo Geri placed a classified ad in several Italian newspapers that he was in the market to buy art objects at good prices. This happened in the fall of 1913. He received a letter from a fellow in Paris who called himself ‘Leonardo.’ He said he was in possession of the stolen Mona Lisa.

“The Italian art dealer didn’t believe him. Geri wrote a return letter saying he would have to see the painting before he could offer a price. Could he bring it to Italy and show him? On December 10, 1913, an Italian man with a moustache showed up at Geri’s office in Florence. He said his name was Leonardo Vincenzo and that he had the Mona Lisa back in his hotel room. He explained that he had stolen the painting to restore to Italy what had been stolen by France. Thus, he made a stipulation that the painting was to be hung at the Uffizi Gallery in Florence and never be given back to France. He also wanted a half million lira for his trouble.

“Geri did some quick thinking. He said he needed to have the director of the Uffizi confirm that it really was the Mona Lisa before he handed over the money. They made arrangements to meet the next day. When they returned to his hotel room the following afternoon, Leonardo pulled out a wooden trunk. He opened it, tossed out a pair of underwear, an old shirt, a pair of shoes, and removed a false bottom. There lay the Mona Lisa!

“Geri and the museum director turned the painting over and noticed a seal from the Louvre. The museum director said he needed to compare the painting with other works by da Vinci, so he needed to take the painting with him. I have no idea why Leonardo agreed to this, but he said yes. Geri and the museum director carried the Mona Lisa out of the hotel and called the police. They stormed the room and arrested the man, whose real name was Vincenzo Peruggia.”

“So the guy who stole the Mona Lisa was an Italian after all?” Gabi asked.

“Yes, he was born in Italy but had moved to Paris, where he had worked at the Louvre since 1908. All the guards knew him. Apparently, on that fateful Monday morning, when the Louvre was officially closed, he noticed that the Salon Carré was empty. He grabbed the Mona Lisa, dragged it over to the staircase, removed the painting from its frame, and walked out of the Louvre with her under a painter’s smock. Can you believe he simply walked off with the world’s most famous piece of art?”

“I would imagine the French were happy to learn of the discovery.”

“Ecstatic! The public went wild. After being displayed throughout Italy, she was returned to France on December 30, 1913, to great fanfare.”

“What happened to Peruggia?” Eric asked.

“He got fourteen months in jail, but he was hailed for his patriotism in Italy. A ‘crime of passion’ was how the heist was described in the press. He became an Italian folk hero.”

So it’s true: at one time, we nearly lost the Mona Lisa. Thankfully today, she rests behind bullet-proof glass and is under constant twenty-four-hour surveillance.

But what most people don’t know is that we nearly lost her again in August 1944, and for that story, you’ll have to read Chasing Mona Lisa.

Thanks for sharing that story, Mike! Read a review of Chasing Mona Lisa  at our review site!

Mike Yorkey is a veteran author or coauthor of more than seventy-five books, including the Every Man’s Battle series and The Swiss Courier, the prequel to Chasing Mona Lisa. He lives in Encinitas, California, with his wife, Nicole, and they spend part of the year in her native Switzerland. They are the parents of two adult children. Visit Mike’s website at www.mikeyorkey.com.