Man convicted of stealing $9m golden toilet

In a heist that sounds more like the fever dream of a mischief-loving magpie than a real-life crime, a British man has been convicted for pilfering an 18-carat golden toilet from Winston Churchill’s birthplace.

Yes, you read that right. A fully functioning, solid gold loo. Some people steal hearts, others steal diamonds – these guys stole a throne fit for, well, a rather ostentatious king.

The golden commode, a conceptual masterpiece titled "America" by Italian artist Maurizio Cattelan, had been proudly displayed at Blenheim Palace just north of Oxford in the UK, a UNESCO World Heritage Site and, up until 2019, a place where even the most refined guests could contemplate the intersection of art and plumbing. But on September 14 of that year, a group of highly motivated men drove two stolen vehicles through the palace’s locked wooden gates, demonstrating a particular lack of subtlety.

Once inside, they broke a window, smashed down a wooden door and ripped the toilet from the wall with what one can only assume was the determination of someone who just realised they were late for work. The entire escapade lasted five minutes.

The golden lavatory, weighing a hefty 98kg and insured for a staggering $US6 million ($AUD9.4 million), is believed to have been melted down and sold off in smaller pieces. We can only hope its new form is as artistically significant as its previous one, though it’s far more likely that some of it is currently jingling around in someone’s pocket as loose change.

At Oxford Crown Court, 39-year-old Michael Jones was found guilty of burglary after his rather ambitious attempt at indoor redecorating. His associate, Fred Doe, 36, was convicted of conspiracy to convert or transfer criminal property – namely, the gold. Meanwhile, 41-year-old Bora Guccuk walked free, having been acquitted of that charge, presumably to pursue other, less toilet-related endeavours.

The ringleader, James Sheen, had already pleaded guilty to burglary, conspiracy and the conversion of the gold, proving that while he may have been skilled at lifting toilets, he wasn’t quite as adept at covering his tracks. Text messages between Sheen and Doe revealed their not-so-cryptic code for the golden loot, referring to it as a “car”.

“I’ll link up with ya, I got something right up your path,” Sheen texted Doe, a message that is oddly poetic for a toilet heist.

Doe’s reply, equally inspired, read, “I can sell that car for you in two seconds … so come and see me tomorrow.” One can only assume the conversation continued with at least one instance of, “Mate, why do you keep calling a car a toilet?”

Shan Saunders of the Crown Prosecution Service called the theft “an audacious raid which had been carefully planned and executed”. Unfortunately for the thieves, their execution left a trail of forensic evidence, CCTV footage and phone data, ensuring their time in the spotlight would be less Ocean’s Eleven and more World’s Dumbest Criminals.

Despite authorities never recovering the gold, Saunders remains confident that the prosecution “has played a part in disrupting a wider crime and money-laundering network”. 

For now, the golden throne remains lost to the ages, a cautionary tale for aspiring art thieves and a lingering question for the art world: when does a toilet become more than just a toilet? The answer, it seems, is when it’s worth six million dollars and inspires one of the strangest heists in British history.

Images: Instagram