Satori
Full Member
By TAMARA AUDI Printed in The Wall Street Journal
Just before Christmas, detectives from the Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department pried open a crate outside a warehouse to find something they had been chasing for months: an 840-pound Brazilian emerald that had been reported stolen.
Now, if they could just figure out who owns it. So far, at least five people have come forward to say it's theirs.
"It seems like the more we talk to people, the more people claim to have ownership over this thing," said Lt. Thomas Grubb, who heads the sheriff's investigative team on the case. "We haven't determined who's not a suspect, really."
Unable to determine who the real owner is, Lt. Grubb decided to keep the emerald locked up while the investigation proceeds. Meanwhile, a Los Angeles civil court is scheduled to hear from different claimants in the case on Tuesday
Lt. Grubb, who had spent the bulk of his 26-year career conducting narcotics investigations, first got onto the case last September. A distraught man named Larry Biegler had called the sheriff's office to say that his giant emerald had been stolen from a Los Angeles-area warehouse where he had been keeping it. It was worth nearly $400 million, he said.
Lt. Grubb's detectives began investigating.
The emerald, they determined, was in the possession of two businessmen named Todd Armstrong and Kit Morrison, whom detectives tracked to a small town called Eagle, in western Idaho. When the detectives arrived in Eagle, Mr. Armstrong was in the process of trying to sell the emerald to a buyer. "We've run into a small snag," Mr. Armstrong says he told his buyer.
The Idaho men said the emerald belonged to them. They said in an interview they paid Mr. Biegler $1 million for diamonds he never delivered. Mr. Biegler had put the emerald up as collateral, they say, for the stones. When the diamonds didn't materialize, they picked up the emerald from the warehouse in Los Angeles. They showed investigators a stack of documents they said prove their claim.
Mr. Biegler -- a gem broker and real-estate investor -- disputes that account. He says he kept up his end of the diamond deal, and claims the Idaho men agreed to pay $80 million for the emerald, which he was willing to sell at that price.
The Idaho men agreed to turn over the emerald to the sheriff's deputies until the matter could be resolved. But the emerald wasn't even in Idaho. Mr. Armstrong and Mr. Morrison had placed it in a secured warehouse in Las Vegas for safekeeping.
Lt. Grubb began to organize an excursion to Las Vegas. On the morning detectives drove to get the emerald, he told his deputies: "We're going to stop on the way and get breakfast. We're going to pick up a $400 million piece of evidence. On the way back, we're not stopping."
When Lt. Grubb finally laid eyes on the emerald, he said, "It almost didn't look real."
Those who have seen the emerald describe it as a black boulder with protruding arm-sized green crystal cylinders. Gem experts say unbroken crystals of that size are rare. Such a large specimen usually would not be broken down into smaller pieces for jewelry. It would more likely be sold intact to a private collector or a museum. An appraisal done in Brazil valued it at $372 million, according to documents filed with the Los Angeles court.
However, George Harlow, curator of minerals and gems for the American Museum of Natural History in New York, says that the most impressive mineral specimens might bring a price of up to six or seven figures. "But nine figures? I'm unaware of any mineral specimen that's ever gone for that much money."
So far, the Bahia emerald hasn't sold for a fortune. But it definitely has been around. The emerald was first dug up from a mine in 2001 in Bahia, in eastern Brazil. Bahia emeralds are among the oldest on Earth, formed two billion years ago, according to the Gemological Institute of America.
The emerald's first owners were a Brazilian gem trader, who owned the rights to the mine, and his business partner. In 2005, they shipped the emerald to a business associate in San Jose, Calif., named Ken Conetto, according to claims made in court documents filed by Mr. Conetto. Mr. Conetto says he kept the emerald stored in San Jose while attempting to find a buyer. He did not pay for the emerald, but he agreed to share some of the profits with the Brazilians, he says.
From San Jose, Mr. Conetto sent the gem to New Orleans, where he thought he had a buyer lined up. When Hurricane Katrina hit, it flooded the warehouse where the emerald was being kept, Mr. Conetto says. The emerald was submerged for weeks, and the sale was never concluded. The emerald returned to San Jose.
Mr. Conetto enlisted Mr. Biegler to help him sell the emerald.
They thought they could find potential buyers in Los Angeles. So last June, they loaded the rock into a van and drove it down themselves, Mr. Conetto said. Halfway through the trip, the van broke down, leaving the two men and their emerald stranded somewhere on Interstate 5. They rolled into a motel. Mr. Conetto said they paid the motel's owner and her boyfriend to help load the emerald into another van.
Eventually, it made it to Los Angeles County, where it sat in a warehouse.
But things began to sour between Mr. Biegler and Mr. Conetto, according to both men. Mr. Biegler says he took possession of the stone after Mr. Conetto pledged it as collateral on a loan he failed to pay.
Mr. Conetto says he never actually borrowed the money and that the emerald is still his.
It's not uncommon for gems to be used as financing tools for business deals, passed back and forth on paper among brokers while never leaving a vault. That can lead to multiple parties using a jumble of documents to claim rights to the same gem.
Meanwhile, new claims continue to emerge. Anthony Thomas a gem trader from outside San Jose, says he is the rightful owner of the emerald because he purchased it for $60,000 from the Brazilians in 2001. Mr. Thomas has also filed a claim in Los Angeles superior court.
On Tuesday, the court will begin hearing the competing claims of ownership. The emerald, however, remains locked up in the sheriff's custody.
"I'm going to write a nonfiction book on this," Mr. Armstrong says. "But I'm going to have to sell it in the fiction section because nobody will believe it's true."
Just before Christmas, detectives from the Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department pried open a crate outside a warehouse to find something they had been chasing for months: an 840-pound Brazilian emerald that had been reported stolen.
Now, if they could just figure out who owns it. So far, at least five people have come forward to say it's theirs.
"It seems like the more we talk to people, the more people claim to have ownership over this thing," said Lt. Thomas Grubb, who heads the sheriff's investigative team on the case. "We haven't determined who's not a suspect, really."
Unable to determine who the real owner is, Lt. Grubb decided to keep the emerald locked up while the investigation proceeds. Meanwhile, a Los Angeles civil court is scheduled to hear from different claimants in the case on Tuesday
Lt. Grubb, who had spent the bulk of his 26-year career conducting narcotics investigations, first got onto the case last September. A distraught man named Larry Biegler had called the sheriff's office to say that his giant emerald had been stolen from a Los Angeles-area warehouse where he had been keeping it. It was worth nearly $400 million, he said.
Lt. Grubb's detectives began investigating.
The emerald, they determined, was in the possession of two businessmen named Todd Armstrong and Kit Morrison, whom detectives tracked to a small town called Eagle, in western Idaho. When the detectives arrived in Eagle, Mr. Armstrong was in the process of trying to sell the emerald to a buyer. "We've run into a small snag," Mr. Armstrong says he told his buyer.
The Idaho men said the emerald belonged to them. They said in an interview they paid Mr. Biegler $1 million for diamonds he never delivered. Mr. Biegler had put the emerald up as collateral, they say, for the stones. When the diamonds didn't materialize, they picked up the emerald from the warehouse in Los Angeles. They showed investigators a stack of documents they said prove their claim.
Mr. Biegler -- a gem broker and real-estate investor -- disputes that account. He says he kept up his end of the diamond deal, and claims the Idaho men agreed to pay $80 million for the emerald, which he was willing to sell at that price.
The Idaho men agreed to turn over the emerald to the sheriff's deputies until the matter could be resolved. But the emerald wasn't even in Idaho. Mr. Armstrong and Mr. Morrison had placed it in a secured warehouse in Las Vegas for safekeeping.
Lt. Grubb began to organize an excursion to Las Vegas. On the morning detectives drove to get the emerald, he told his deputies: "We're going to stop on the way and get breakfast. We're going to pick up a $400 million piece of evidence. On the way back, we're not stopping."
When Lt. Grubb finally laid eyes on the emerald, he said, "It almost didn't look real."
Those who have seen the emerald describe it as a black boulder with protruding arm-sized green crystal cylinders. Gem experts say unbroken crystals of that size are rare. Such a large specimen usually would not be broken down into smaller pieces for jewelry. It would more likely be sold intact to a private collector or a museum. An appraisal done in Brazil valued it at $372 million, according to documents filed with the Los Angeles court.
However, George Harlow, curator of minerals and gems for the American Museum of Natural History in New York, says that the most impressive mineral specimens might bring a price of up to six or seven figures. "But nine figures? I'm unaware of any mineral specimen that's ever gone for that much money."
So far, the Bahia emerald hasn't sold for a fortune. But it definitely has been around. The emerald was first dug up from a mine in 2001 in Bahia, in eastern Brazil. Bahia emeralds are among the oldest on Earth, formed two billion years ago, according to the Gemological Institute of America.
The emerald's first owners were a Brazilian gem trader, who owned the rights to the mine, and his business partner. In 2005, they shipped the emerald to a business associate in San Jose, Calif., named Ken Conetto, according to claims made in court documents filed by Mr. Conetto. Mr. Conetto says he kept the emerald stored in San Jose while attempting to find a buyer. He did not pay for the emerald, but he agreed to share some of the profits with the Brazilians, he says.
From San Jose, Mr. Conetto sent the gem to New Orleans, where he thought he had a buyer lined up. When Hurricane Katrina hit, it flooded the warehouse where the emerald was being kept, Mr. Conetto says. The emerald was submerged for weeks, and the sale was never concluded. The emerald returned to San Jose.
Mr. Conetto enlisted Mr. Biegler to help him sell the emerald.
They thought they could find potential buyers in Los Angeles. So last June, they loaded the rock into a van and drove it down themselves, Mr. Conetto said. Halfway through the trip, the van broke down, leaving the two men and their emerald stranded somewhere on Interstate 5. They rolled into a motel. Mr. Conetto said they paid the motel's owner and her boyfriend to help load the emerald into another van.
Eventually, it made it to Los Angeles County, where it sat in a warehouse.
But things began to sour between Mr. Biegler and Mr. Conetto, according to both men. Mr. Biegler says he took possession of the stone after Mr. Conetto pledged it as collateral on a loan he failed to pay.
Mr. Conetto says he never actually borrowed the money and that the emerald is still his.
It's not uncommon for gems to be used as financing tools for business deals, passed back and forth on paper among brokers while never leaving a vault. That can lead to multiple parties using a jumble of documents to claim rights to the same gem.
Meanwhile, new claims continue to emerge. Anthony Thomas a gem trader from outside San Jose, says he is the rightful owner of the emerald because he purchased it for $60,000 from the Brazilians in 2001. Mr. Thomas has also filed a claim in Los Angeles superior court.
On Tuesday, the court will begin hearing the competing claims of ownership. The emerald, however, remains locked up in the sheriff's custody.
"I'm going to write a nonfiction book on this," Mr. Armstrong says. "But I'm going to have to sell it in the fiction section because nobody will believe it's true."