Vanity Fair UK April2020

Thinking he’d impress Petra, he took her

to Crockfords, the private casino, where

he promptly blew 100 , 000 pounds. “I

was trying to be Flash Harry,” he recalls.

But that night, he realized that money

wasn’t the key to Petra’s heart. No amount

he spent was ever going to impress her. So

he dropped the big spender act and tried

something novel: just being himself. “It

was really love at „rst sight—when she

actually saw the real me, not the †ash

dickhead,” he says. “I’m not really like

that. I’m not a showy guy, but I feel I have

to be a showy guy. Because I’ve got small-

dick syndrome, without the small dick.”

One night, on a double date with Petra’s

sister, Tamara, and her then boyfriend,

the British entrepreneur Gavin Dein, the

group began discussing a subject Stunt

knew absolutely nothing about: art. As

the names of artists he didn’t recognize

†ew by, he felt embarrassed. “I’ve got

95 percent perfect recall,” he says. “On

any subject that ever came up, I could B.S.

my way around it.” But art left him feel-

ing like “a glimmering moron.” Vowing

to make sure he never experienced such

humiliation again, he began researching

art. “The more I started to learn, the more

obsessed I became with it,” he says.

What he discovered surprised him.

Art, like gambling, shipping, oil, and

gold, is also a racket—and the spoils go

to those who are smartest at playing

the game. Stunt started by buying old

masters—Rubens, van Dyck, Sir Peter

Lely—paying top dollar for them at auc-

tions and galleries. Then, after a year of

fevered purchases, he met the art expert

who would become his mentor: Philip

Jonathan Clifford Mould, a British art

dealer who separates forgeries from mas-

terpieces each week as host of the hit BBC

program Fake or Fortune?

One day, Stunt recalls, Mould pointed

to an expensive painting. “James,” Mould

told him, “this Lely is 400 , 000 pounds.

But I can sell it to you for 80 , 000 .”

“How on earth could you do that?”

Stunt asked.

“Because I paid 6 , 000 pounds for it,”

Mould replied.

The secret, Mould explained, was „nd-

ing works known as sleepers—paintings

that have been kept for decades, or even

centuries, in private hands. As a result,

they are often mislabeled or undervalued

by experts, meaning they can be snapped

up for a steep discount. The paintings, in

other words, aren’t perceived as valuable.

But if that perception could be changed—

if they were certi„ed, say, to be long-lost

masterpieces—then a small initial invest-

ment could be turned into a fortune.

IN 2011, AFTER they’d lived together for

several years, Stunt presented Petra with

a 12 - carat diamond ring.

“How did you propose?” I ask.

“Very romantically,” he says. “I was

like, ‘How are we going to get this past

your fucking parents?’ ”

Petra’s father, Stunt says, was “a push-

over.” The problem was her mother, Slavi-

ca Ecclestone, a former Armani model

from Croatia who stood a foot taller than

her husband. “I call her Lady Macbeth,”

Stunt says. “She obviously wasn’t happy

about it. But she doesn’t like anyone. Prince

William wouldn’t be good enough for her.

Someone like me? Oh, he is nouveau riche.”

MARC CHAGALL

Titled Paris Con Amor, this one

came easiest to Tetro. “I’ve painted more

Chagalls than Chagall,” he said.

SALVADOR DALÍ

Dying Christ is a replica of Corpus

Hypercubus (1954), which hangs in the

Metropolitan Museum of Art.

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