This is a link to an article by Paige Williams on the blackmarket of dinosaur bone trading in the New Yorker. A long read, but surely worth it. I've posted the opening paragraphs below. Click here or on the picture to go to the full article.
Nattural history goes to auction five or six times a year in America, and one Sunday last May a big sale took place in Chelsea, at the onetime home of the Dia Center for the Arts. The bidding, organized by a company called Heritage Auctions, began with two amethyst geodes that, when paired, resembled the ears of an alert rabbit. Then came meteorites, petrified wood, and elephant tusks; centipedes, scorpions, and spiders preserved in amber; rare quartzes, crystals, and fossils. The fossils ranged from small Eocene swimmers imprinted on rock to the remains of late-Cretaceous dinosaurs. That day, the articulated toe and claw of a Moroccan dinosaur sold for sixty-three hundred dollars. A tyrannosaur toothâten and a half inches from root to spikeâwent for nearly forty thousand.
Along one wall, behind ropes, loomed the skeleton of a Tarbosaurus bataar. T. bataar, as it is known, was a Tyrannosaurus rex cousin that lived some seventy million years ago, in what is now the Gobi Desert of southern Mongolia. Eight feet tall and twenty-four feet long, the specimen had been mounted in a predatory running position, with its arms out and its jaws open, as if determined to eat Lot No. 49220âa cast Komodo dragon, crouching ten yards away, on blue velvet.
After a German sea-lily fossil sold to a live bidder, for forty thousand dollars, Greg Rohan, Heritageâs president, who had been standing near the lectern, handed the auctioneer a note. The auctioneer announced, âThe sale of this next lot will be contingent upon a satisfactory resolution of a court proceeding.â He was talking about the dinosaur, which he called the auctionâs âsignature item.â Largely intact dinosaur skeletons are not easily found, and this specimen had been advertised as seventy-five per cent complete. âIt can fit in all rooms ten feet high,â the auctioneer added. âSo itâs also a great decorative piece.â
As the bidding opened, at eight hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars, Robert Painter, an attorney from Houston, stood up, a BlackBerry in his hand. Painter is six feet three and forty-two, with dark hair, rimless eyeglasses, and a deep voice. âI hate to interrupt this,â he told the room. âBut I have the judge on the phone.â The previous day, Carlos Cortezâa state district judge in Dallas, where Heritage has its headquartersâhad signed a temporary restraining order forbidding the company to auction the T. bataar, on the ground that the dinosaur was believed to have been stolen from Mongolia. The judge, defied, was not pleased.
