I've stolen a Da Vinci. The details elude me, a private collector, a variation of the Madonna on the Rocks in a polychrome frame that would look more appropriate on a Picasso, but this isn't a typical Da Vinci, it's brightly coloured as well, and I've hung it above the bed next to a painting by my friend Milan.
I'm living in my Parent's basement. I've no worries that they'll recognize it, hiding, as it were, in plain sight, but Milan, my friend, in signing the painting he gave me somehow made a mistake and signed across the front of the Da Vinci, and now there's no way for me to return it even if I wanted to.
Milan drops by to visit. He's horrified that I have this, the stolen painting, and then my Mother enters bringing me a half litre of wine. For breakfast. I would have preferred coffee, but her visit is just a pretext to ask me about some obscure plot point in a book I'd written about Hellboy. "All will be revealed" I tell her. Milan has taken the precaution of hiding the Madonna beneath his own painting, a ridiculous, terrified grin upon his face...