A box of Cotinga skins stored in Ziploc bags that was recovered from Edwin’s apartment on the morning of November 12, 2010. Curators were dismayed to find that many of the specimens were missing their labels, without which they were of little to no scientific value.
Twelve Resplendent Quetzals, some missing their tail feathers, also recovered by the police. Bags stuffed with hundreds of iridescent green-tipped feathers, intended for sale on eBay or the forum, were also seized.
Detective Sergeant Adele Hopkin, who received the tip that led to Edwin’s arrest; Mark Adams, senior curator of ornithology at the Tring Museum; and Detective Inspector Fraser Wylie of the Hertfordshire Constabulary (l. to r.), with some of the recovered bird skins.
Edwin Rist, twenty-two, arriving at the Hemel Hempstead Magistrate’s Court for his initial sentencing hearing on November 26, 2010. The case was referred to the Crown Court after prosecutors argued that the sentencing powers of a magistrate judge were insufficient for such a serious crime.
A decadent display of exotic plumes, including Indian Crow, Blue Chatterer, Resplendent Quetzal, Jungle Cock, Argus Pheasant, and the Banksian Cockatoo. Fly-tiers frequently show off their materials in what is sometimes referred to as “feather porn.”
A series of Indian Crow flies, resting on the breastplates of the bird skins from which the feathers used to tie them were harvested. Among these are flies tied by the Québécois Luc Couturier, a master tier who was the first to encourage Edwin to pay a visit to the Natural History Museum in Tring.
An 1849 color plate of the Wheatley no. 8, an 1849 salmon fly whose recipe calls for King Bird of Paradise and Resplendent Quetzal feathers. Several Victorian flies call for such expensive and rare materials that it is considered an achievement just to tie one.
A pair of Wheatley no. 8 flies tied by Long Nguyen, one of Norway’s greatest fly-tiers.
Long Nguyen at work on a Thorndyke Fly, designed for use in the rivers of middle Norway.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
It’s customary to wait until the final sentences of the acknowledgments to thank one’s spouse, but if Viking had permitted it, it would have been on the cover and in the header and footer of every page of this book. On our first date, I mentioned a book I dreamed of writing about a kid who stole dead birds from a museum in England. Amazingly, she agreed not only to a second date but to build a life with me. In an investigation that spanned years, she must have had flickers of doubt about my spiraling obsession, but she never let on. She believed in this project long before I had a book deal, and she supported me as I flew around the world on wild hunches about the missing skins. Six months after our wedding, she was in Düsseldorf for the interview with Edwin, working the audio recorder while a bodyguard hid outside.
She read every draft, perching pages on her pregnant tummy, while I rambled on excitedly about some new discovery. After our son, August, was born, she somehow managed to balance the demands of motherhood with a full-time job while still helping this book take shape. In the late stages of revisions, she did it all while our baby daughter grew inside her. She is the strongest person I’ve ever known, and The Feather Thief would never have happened without her.
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If Katherine Flynn told me to hop on one leg for a month, I would do so unhesitatingly, so complete is my faith in her counsel. Beyond being a superagent, she is brilliant, funny, wise, and a true friend.
My deep thanks to Kathryn Court for believing in this book and giving it a home at Viking. Lindsey Schwoeri, Jocasta Hamilton, Sarah Rigby, Gretchen Schmid, and Beena Kamlani provided illuminating feedback, pushback, and patient support throughout many revisions: I am lucky to have them in the trenches with me.
Thanks, too, to Hope Denekamp, Ike Williams, and Paul Sennott at Kneerim and Williams; to Danny and Heather Baror of Baror International, Inc., for coordinating foreign rights; and to Jocasta Hamilton of Hutchinson in Britain, Marijke Wempe of Atlas Contact in Holland, Hans-Peter Uebleis of Droemer in Germany, and Lena Pallin of Brombergs in Sweden.
Sylvie Rabineau, whom I met on my second day in Los Angeles, has been a force of nature, believing in and promoting my work and offering sage guidance.
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A very special note of gratitude to Spencer Seim in Taos, New Mexico. Had we not gone fishing that fall day in 2011, I would have never heard the name Edwin Rist. In the years since, he has helped this project along, patiently taking my calls, sounding out theories about the missing skins, and teaching me about fly-tying and its history. In the process, we have become dear friends. Anyone who wants to spend a day fly-fishing with the best guide in the country should visit ZiaFly.com, where they can also buy his gorgeous salmon flies (tied using legal, ethically sourced feathers).
I am very grateful to the staff at the Natural History Museum in Tring (and London) for putting up with several years’ worth of questions about an unpleasant chapter in their institution’s history. To their great credit, they were always forthcoming and shared whatever they could: what happened to them wasn’t their fault, but I do hope that funding for the protection of specimens in the UK (and throughout the world) is increased by host governments. Particular gratitude goes to Dr. Robert Prys-Jones, Mark Adams, and Dr. Richard Lane, as well as Chloe and Sophie in the press shop.
One of the pleasures of this investigation was getting to know Adele Hopkin of the Hertfordshire Constabulary, who was always generous with her time as she fielded questions large and small about the fate of the missing skins. Thanks to the Constabulary’s Hannah Georgiou and Rachel Hyde for assistance with photos. Elsewhere in the UK justice system, thanks to David Chrimes and Tapashi Nadarajah with the Crown Prosecution Service, and to the St. Albans Crown Court for approving my request for the release of the sentencing hearing transcripts.
Dr. Rick Prum is one of the most colorful, brilliant, and thoughtful people I’ve ever met. My thanks to him for sharing so much of his time, for illuminating the lives of these birds, for explaining the modern curatorial mission, and for sharing an early copy of what will surely become known as a seminal work, The Evolution of Beauty.
The AVECOL and eBEAC listservs of ornithologists were very helpful in the late stages of my research. Thanks to Dr. James Remsen, Mark Adams, and Douglas Russell for facilitating my requests for information and to all the curators who responded.
Dr. John Bates at the Field Museum in Chicago was a great resource, as was Dr. Paul Sweet at the American Museum of Natural History in New York. So was Dr. Kirk Johnson (what a strange interview that was!) at the Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History.
Sir David Attenborough probably can’t appreciate just how thrilling it is to receive letters from him in the mail—his first letter came at an uncertain time, before this book had a publisher. I am forever grateful that he made himself available by phone to discuss the Tring heist, his beloved Birds of Paradise, and Alfred Russel Wallace.
Thanks, too, to Bill Wallace, great-grandson of Alfred Russel, for sharing the story about his father’s trip to the Natural History Museum.
Long Nguyen opened up his home and life in Norway to me for what must have been an incredibly challenging interview. Of all the interviews I conducted, his was the most honest and searching.
I’d also like to thank Edwin Rist for agreeing to tell me his story. Over some eight hours, there were plenty of opportunities for him to walk out the door, but he admirably answered any question I put to him. While I never met his father, Curtis, I want to thank him for the efforts he took—at considerable financial pain—to recover birds for the museum.
While many in the fly-tying community were wary of this project, I am grateful to everyone who spoke with me, including John McLain, Ed Muzeroll, Jens Pilgaard, Robert Verkerk, Marvin Nolte, Ton
y Smith, Dave Carne, Mike Townend, Bud Guidry, Jim Goggans, Terry, Phil Castleman, Stuart Hardy, Gary Litman, Paul Davis, Shawn Mitchell, Ruhan Neethling, T. J. Hall, Robert Delisle, Flemming Sejer Andersen, Irish, Andrew Herd, Mortimer, Ryan Houston, and Paul Rossman. Thanks also to everyone who spoke with me on background or off the record.
Tom Whiting of Whiting Farms not only opened up his doors but picked me up at the airport: thanks for introducing me to the wild world of genetic poultry hackle.
Thanks to George Beccaloni, director of the Wallace Correspondence Project, for his helpful comments on the Wallace chapter.
Ever since my good friend Judge Mark Wolf introduced us, Geoff Cowan has been an endless source of encouragement and assistance. I am honored to be a senior fellow at the USC Annenberg Center on Communication Leadership & Policy, and am grateful to its team, particularly Ev Boyle and Susan Goelz.
The idea for this book took root during a residence at the Helene G. Wurlitzer Foundation in New Mexico. A substantial amount of historical research occurred during a residence at the unforgettable Delta Omicron studio at the MacDowell Colony in New Hampshire (my special thanks to David Macy and Cheryl Young).
Thanks to Tim and Neda Disney for their support and for letting me work on an early version of the book proposal at their Joshua Tree escape.
I’m lucky to have George Packer as a mentor and friend. Better than most, he understood the bind the Iraq War had put me in, and offered nothing but wise counsel and encouragement as I started to consider a life beyond the List Project.
Nancy Updike also listened to recordings of my earliest interviews, taught me the ropes of working a Marantz, and sensed the worthiness of this strange story before almost anyone.
John Wray, Michael Lerner, and Max Weiss all took considerable time to read and provide invaluable comment on early, baggy drafts. This book was dramatically improved by their feedback.
Thanks to the Hoekstra brothers: Tim, for his guidance in plumbing public records, and Misha, for his help translating Danish e-mails about illicit bird transactions.
I am forever grateful for friendships that keep me sane and happy: Max Weiss, Tom and Christen Hadfield, Peter and Lisa Noah, Jakke and Maria Erixson, Sarah Uslan and Ian Duncan, Mélanie Joly, Henrik and Victoria Björklund, Loubna El-Amine, Jonathan and Tara Tucker, Amélie Cantin, Julie Schlosser and Rajiv Chandrasekaran, Kevin and Annie Jacobsen, Tim Hoekstra and Fatimah Rony, John Wray, Lizzy and Shawn Peterson, Yanic Truesdale, Ezra Strausberg and Enrique Gutierrez, Philip Wareborn and Hanna Helgegren, Jon Staff, Meena and Liaquat Ahamed, Gahl Burt, Arie Toporovsky, Eddie Patel, Justin Sadauskas, Kevin Brewer, Tim Martin, Andy Rafter, Jesse Dailey, Maxim Roy, Sherine Hamdy, Alyshia and Lee Knaz, Anthony Chase and Sofia Gruskin, Maryse and Jérôme, Dennis Spiegel, Azar Nafisi, Tim and Annette Nelson, Janine Cantin, Deb and Hannah VanDerMolen, Bev, Ken, and Jennie Paigen, Usman and Nadia Khan, Tona Rashad, Yaghdan and Ghada Hameid, Serim Çetin, Jordan and Lauren Goldenberg, Mohammed and Atiaf al-Rawi, Matt King and Sarah Cunningham, Lela and Mark Smrecek, Sally Hutchinson and John Cartwright. Rest in peace, Uncle Luke.
As always, I have the great fortune to have been born into the Johnson clan. My dad lovingly read every draft of the manuscript, while my mom eagerly filled our house (and dressed my wife) with feather-themed paraphernalia. My brothers, Soren and Derek, are my best friends. They, along with Carolyn, Ever, and my late aunt Betty—the original birder in the family—all provided brilliant feedback on early versions of the book. My belle-maman, Suzanne Ladouceur, even got in on the bird frenzy, celebrating our marriage and children’s births with a collection of brass swans from Nepal.
With endless love for August, Isidora, and Marie-Josée, the source of all that is good and beautiful and wise in my life.
NOTES
PROLOGUE
Wait a minute!: Edwin Rist, interview by author, May 26, 2015.
Engrossed in a soccer match: Ibid.
as few as 250 mature individuals: “Cotinga maculata,” IUCN Red List of Threatened Species (2017), http://dx.doi.org/10.2305/IUCN.UK.2017-1.RLTS.T22700886A110781901.en.
1. THE TRIALS 0F ALFRED RUSSEL WALLACE
seven hundred miles off the coast: Alfred Russel Wallace, “Letter Concerning the Fire on the Helen,” Zoologist (November 1852).
the skins of nearly ten thousand birds: Ross A. Slotten, The Heretic in Darwin’s Court: The Life of Alfred Russel Wallace (New York: Columbia University Press, 2004), p. 83.
thousands of miles of tracks: Christian Wolmar, Fire & Steam: How the Railways Transformed Britain (London: Atlantic, 2008).
vanished species like belemnites: Alfred Russel Wallace, My Life: A Record of Events and Opinions (London: Chapman & Hall, 1905), p. 1:109.
It wasn’t until the arrival of the trains: Lynn L. Merrill, The Romance of Victorian Natural History (New York: Oxford University Press, 1989), p. 7.
the ideal form of recreation: Ibid., p. 8.
Hats were designed: Ibid., p. 45.
the French led the way with conchlyomania: Ibid., p. 80.
Pteridomania followed, as the British: Sarah Whittingham, The Victorian Fern Craze (Oxford: Shire, 2009).
“regarded as one of the essential furnishings”: David Elliston Allen, The Naturalist in Britain: A Social History (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1994), p. 26.
When young Wallace: Wallace, My Life, p. 110.
“that there was any kind of”: Ibid., p. 111.
“I should like to take some one family”: Ibid., pp. 256–67.
“Promising indeed to lovers of the marvelous”: William H. Edwards, A Voyage up the River Amazon: Including a Residence at Pará (New York: D. Appleton, 1847), p. 11.
They ate alligators, monkeys: Michael Shermer, In Darwin’s Shadow: The Life and Science of Alfred Russel Wallace: A Biographical Study on the Psychology of History (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002), p. 72.
“at every step I almost expected to feel”: Alfred Russel Wallace, A Narrative of Travels on the Amazon and Rio Negro, with an Account of the Native Tribes, and Observations on the Climate, Geology, and Natural History of the Amazon Valley (London: Reeve, 1853), p. 171.
“While in that apathetic state”: Ibid., p. 226.
He loaded the canoe: Slotten, Heretic in Darwin’s Court, p. 83.
He paid a small fortune to liberate them: Wallace, Narrative of Travels, p. 382.
the smoke was so thick: Ibid., p. 392.
“now suffocatingly hot”: Ibid., p. 393.
“a kind of apathy”: Ibid.
huddled on the bowsprit: Ibid., p. 395.
“a magnificent and awful sight”: Alfred Russel Wallace to Richard Spruce (written aboard the Jordeson), September 19, 1852, http://www.nhm.ac.uk/research-curation/scientific-resources/collections/library-collections/wallace-letters-online/349/5294/S/details.html.
“It was now, when the danger appeared past”: Alfred Russel Wallace, quoted in “The President’s Address,” Transactions of the Entomological Society of London (London, 1853), p. 2:146.
dangerously overloaded and underprovisioned: The Annual Register, Or, A view of the History and Politics of the Year 1852 (London: F. & J. Rivington, 1852), p. 183.
a £200 insurance policy: Shermer, In Darwin’s Shadow, p. 74.
Darwin’s Cambridge professor: J. S. Henslow to C. Darwin, August 24, 1831, quoted in The Correspondence of Charles Darwin: 1821–1836 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1985), pp. 1:128–29, https://www.darwinproject.ac.uk/letter/?docId=letters/DCP-LETT-105.xml;query=Henslow%201831;brand=default.
Only five weeks after his return: Alfred Russel Wallace, “On the Habits of the Butterflies of the Amazon Valley,” Transactions of the Entomological Society of London (n.s.) 2 (1854): 253–64.
The “great divisions”: Slotten, Heretic in Darwin’s Court, p. 95.
“In the
various works on natural history”: Alfred Russel Wallace, “On the Monkeys of the Amazon,” Proceedings of the Zoological Society of London 20 (December 14, 1852): 109.
“a new world”: Samuel G. Goodrich, History of All Nations, from the Earliest Periods to the Present . . . (Auburn, N.Y.: Miller, Orton and Mulligan, 1854), p. 1192.
In June 1853: Wallace, My Life, p. 327.
Wallace frequented the insect and bird rooms: Ibid.
The first skins: Michael Shrubb, Feasting, Fowling and Feathers: A History of the Exploitation of Wild Birds (London: T & AD Poyser, 2013), p. 201.
They thought females laid their eggs: David Attenborough and Errol Fuller, Drawn from Paradise: The Natural History, Art and Discovery of the Birds of Paradise (New York: Harper Design, 2012), p. 47.
called them manuk dewata: Alfred Russel Wallace, The Annotated Malay Archipelago, ed. John van Wyhe (Singapore: National University of Singapore Press, 2015), p. 705.
Young King Charles I: Attenborough and Fuller, Drawn from Paradise, p. 50.
Rembrandt, Rubens, and Bruegel: Ibid., p. 47.
“richly wooded shores”: Wallace, My Life, p. 335.
Within a month of arriving: Slotten, Heretic in Darwin’s Court, p. 106.
Each morning he was up at five-thirty: Ibid., p. 106.
“night work may be very well for amateurs”: Alfred Russel Wallace to Samuel Stevens, September 2, 1858, http://www.nhm.ac.uk/research-curation /scientific-resources/collections/library-collections/wallace-letters-online/4274/4391/T/details.html#2.
Small black ants routinely “took possession”: Wallace, Annotated Malay Archipelago, p. 663.
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