Bone Deep Read Online Free PDF Page B

Back when I was in college, they’d come to the mine with some BS story about fossil hunting, but they were really after anything left behind by the first Spaniards. Ponce de León’s sword—that was popular for a while.”
    “A five-hundred-year-old sword?” I said. “That’s stretching things.”
    “Or De Soto’s gold crucifix—crazy stuff. I’m not making this up. A couple times a week, I’d get a phone call, or we’d catch someone trespassing.”
    “Why? Your draglines had to dig down thirty or forty feet to getto the phosphate beds. People actually believed pirates or Indians would bury something that deep?”
    Albright studied me for a moment. “Have you ever toured a mining operation?”
    “No, but that’s what I’ve read.”
    “You should. I can arrange it. Then you’d understand the attraction. Sometimes these guys would
claim
to be after treasure but really wanted high-end fossils—a pristine saber cat’s skull or mastodon tusks. Blue ivory is worth more than gold—damn near anyway.” He saw my confusion. “Because it’s so rare. That’s the color it turns, bluish black. Think of it as Ice Age ivory. Tusks taken from live elephants are called blood ivory. It’s been banned worldwide. But that hasn’t stopped the Africans and Chinese, of course. Ice Age ivory is still legal if it’s found on private property.”
    On the mantel was a carved elephant; elephants were embroidered in the rug. “You know a lot about this. Is it because of the company name—Mammoth Mines?”
    Albright laughed. “You have no idea . . .”
    Apparently not. “Did I miss something?”
    “Forget it. Sort of a family thing, and it’s a long story. Back to what I was saying . . . When our mines were operational, we got all kinds of stories about why people wanted to dig. Fossil clubs could be fun—kids, the look on their faces when they found something. The real pro bone hunters, though, they were a whole different animal.”
    “There’s a fine line between fantasy and obsession,” I said, then used Fallsdown’s story about a mastodon graveyard as an example.
    “I’ve heard that one, too. Right out of a Tarzan movie.” He sat back, as if deciding something, then finally spoke. “You’re right.”
    “About . . . obsession?”
    “About collectors. We kept a list of names. The kooks, the harmless ones, and another list of guys who’d cut your throat. Bone hunters—some of them are no better than street thugs. One of our night watchmen was hit in the back of the head so hard, it was a year before they took him off life support. My dad sold out not long after he was attacked.”
    “Because of what happened?”
    “That, and some other things. It played a role.”
    “Did they catch the guy who did it?”
    “They never arrested anyone. My grandfather was also shot at a couple of times. Back when the mine was open, I got more than a few threatening calls. That’s why I don’t believe anyone’s story if it has to do with fossils or artifacts.” He sipped his drink.
    “If that’s a warning,” I said, “relax. I’ve got photos of the pieces in the boat. I’ll get them.”
    Albright motioned for me to stay seated, went to a desk, and returned with a legal pad. “A rough sketch will do.”
    “Why? I can be back in five minutes.”
    “Humor me,” he said. “It’s my way of confirming if a story’s legit or not.”
    “Nothing I can draw will prove that,” I said, but gave it a shot. When I was done, I handed him the pad. “There were two carvings, very similar, made of black soapstone. They have ceremonial value to a member of the Crow tribe. This isn’t about buried treasure.”
    Albright studied the sketch and seemed satisfied. “The bullshitters always added artistic touches—probably because they made it up in their heads as they went along. Shading, lots of swirls. Didn’t matter what they claimed to be after, I could always tell. This is more like a schematic.” He looked