In their Mulhouse attic, around the time of the Adam and Eve theft, Anne‑Catherine Kleinklaus playfully presides over a bedroom lined with Flemish landscapes while Stéphane Breitwieser films. Their teasing intimacy and private nicknames underscore a sealed world built around shared treasures and secrecy.

Breitwieser explains his coup de coeur—an electrifying pull to possess beauty—which he also felt upon first seeing Anne‑Catherine in 1991. Their attraction becomes mutual and intense. Attorney Eric Braun later characterizes Anne‑Catherine’s love as total, reinforcing the pair’s unhealthy but wholehearted bond.

Contrasting backgrounds sharpen their dynamic: Stéphane’s once‑privileged, cultured youth versus Anne‑Catherine’s modest upbringing. With him, she finds adventure; with her, he refines his taste. They wander small museums in reverent silence, reading each other’s reactions, further entwining aesthetic judgment with emotional intimacy.

When Stéphane’s parents split, Anne‑Catherine anchors him as he moves to a sparse apartment. Their temperaments complement—his volatility to her calm—and their careers stall, with him leaving law school and her working as a nurse’s aide. Their codependency grows around art, love, and escape.

In 1994, at the Thann museum, a flintlock pistol triggers Stéphane’s resentment toward his absent, collector father and anger at predatory dealers. He notes lax security and carries a backpack, recognizing opportunity. Seeking closeness, adventure, and to impress him, Anne‑Catherine encourages the crime—“Go ahead. Take it.”—a decisive turn that binds them as criminal partners.