Canada: The Affair of the Absconded Art

The treasure chests were sneaked out of Poland under the noses of the Nazis in 1939 and sent to Canada by the Government. The 34 cases were crammed with antiques: jeweled goblets, original Chopin manuscripts, Poland’s storied coronation sword, Szczerbiec. Their intrinsic value was in the millions, their historic value above price. In Canada they were carefully stored: 24 cases with the Redemptorist Fathers at the Shrine of Ste. Anne de Beaupré, eight with the sisters of the Precious Blood convent in Ottawa, two in the vaults of the Bank of Montreal in Ottawa.

All through the war the cases were secure—far more secure than the Polish Government-in-exile. As the London Government gave way to the Soviet-dominated Warsaw regime, Dr. Waclaw Babinski, precise and mustached, gave way to Dr. Alfred Fiderkiewicz, bald and pint-sized, as Polish Minister in Ottawa.

Not long ago, Minister Fiderkiewicz (called “Fido” in Ottawa) decided to ship the treasures back to Poland. He sent the custodian of the collection, Dr. Stanislaw Swierz-Zaleski, to pick up the cases at the Ottawa convent. To the nun behind the grill Dr. Zaleski mumbled the secret password: “Holy Virgin of Czestochowa.” The nun looked surprised. Only a few days before, a man “with a tumor on his ear” had appeared at the convent. He too had pronounced the secret password—and she had given him the treasures.

Trailing clouds of E. Phillips Oppenheim, Dr. Zaleski raced to Ste. Anne de Beaupre. As he feared, he was too late. The 24 cases there had also been handed over. Dr. Zaleski sped to the bank. Ah, the cases were there. But the bank bluntly refused to give them up except jointly to the two men who had deposited them, Dr. Zaleski and his colleague, Jozef Polkowski, a London Pole.

Man with a Tumor. Last week the anguished Dr. Fiderkiewicz let out the whole cloak & dagger story. Where were the treasures? The Minister was sure he knew. Said he darkly: “The only man who had a tumor on his ear and also knew the password is Polkowski. I wrote Polkowski asking what he had done with the art. He replied that he had given his word of honor not to reveal its location.” Who was the man at Ste. Anne’s? “Babinski,” said Dr. Fido. “. . . It is all Babinski.”

But in his Ottawa home Babinski only said blandly: “It is ridiculous. I knew of no password. Fiderkiewicz, you know, is a Communist.”

Man with a Problem. From London came a clue. Tomasz Arciszewski, ex-Premier of the London Government, announced solemnly: “The treasures in Canada are in safe hands. They will not be delivered up to the Warsaw Government for transportation to Moscow.”

The Toronto Star went further. It said that the treasures were “securely hidden in a church seven minutes’ distance from Cardinal Villeneuve’s Palace” in Quebec City.

Dr. Fiderkiewicz pleaded with the Canadian Government for help. Patiently, Prime Minister Mackenzie King explained that the Government had no responsibility. At week’s end Dr. Fiderkiewicz threatened to file a theft charge with the police—if someone didn’t come forward with the treasures soon.