In its May 2001 letter to Simon-Whelan—a rare courtesy granted the film director and only after repeated requests—the Board claimed it had no verifiable evidence that Warhol either sanctioned or authorized "Double Denied" or any of the other impressions of the silkscreen Ekstract had printed for the screenings. It also stated that while Warhol did work in multiples, the individual works were distinguished by background, by handpainting by Warhol and by varying the angle or placement of the impression. "The existence of ten identical works is without precedent in the corpus of Warhol’s paintings," wrote Sally King-Nero on behalf of the Board.

Simon-Whelan claims he had no knowledge that all the other Ekstract paintings had been deemed inauthentic by the time he submitted "Double Denied" to the Board in 2001 after receiving a $2 million offer for the work. Furthermore, he claims he only submitted "Double Denied" for examination on the repeated urgings of Fremont, described in the 64-page complaint as one of the Warhol Foundation’s "enforcers." The complaint uses this term to refer to Foundation personnel and friends who it claims pressure Warhol owners to submit their works in order to tighten the Foundation’s stranglehold on the market.

In February 2002, after a two-month deliberation, the Board rejected Simon-Whelan’s painting. He reapplied one year later—this time buttressing his bid with letters from known Warhol collaborators and transcripts from the Andy Warhol Museum. The result, once again, was negative.

Ronald Spencer, who represents the Foundation, the Authentication Board and Vincent Fremont in the lawsuit, says that such reversals of opinion are far from rare in connoisseurship. "Different experts at different times come to different conclusions about the authenticity of works of art," he argues, adding that the Simon-Whelan lawsuit is completely without merit and will only serve to divert Foundation funds away from arts and education grants and into legal fees. "These changes of opinion often come about on the discovery of new information. Rembrandt’s oeuvre, for example, has expanded and contracted many times over the past century."

While Simon-Whelan enjoys the sympathy of many of his fellow collectors, not all of them buy into his conspiracy theory. "There’s always a certain risk in buying works by any of the contemporary artists," observes Portland, Oregon, real estate developer and philanthropist Jordan Schnitzer, who counts nearly 80 Warhol prints in his collection. "You rely on the reputation and integrity of who you’re buying from and on your own due diligence to make your own best judgment. But in the end, it comes down to human judgment, and human judgment can be wrong. Whether the reversal in question here is intentional is another matter, and my sense is that it’s not. Still, if I were this buyer, I think I’d be angry as well."

Andy Warhol ably exploited the flaws and follies of mass-market culture to generate fame, wealth, and, perhaps most importantly, great art. And his most miraculous power, that of alchemy, seems to have survived him. The artist who in life turned soup cans into high art and priceless images into ordinary pulp now, in death, seems to have ventured into yet another mass media phenomenon, the reality TV show, and transformed those who contend his legacy into the players.

"I don’t believe in the afterlife," says painter Ronnie Cutrone, who spent nearly two decades in various roles in Warhol’s factory. "And I don’t care about any of this. But if Andy were up there and looking down at what’s going on now, I guarantee you he’d be laughing. And he’d keep on laughing just so long as his prices stay high."

Ken Shulman has published investigative essays on art topics including Caravaggio, the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum theft and the Sistine Chapel Restoration.