Word: dealer
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...Registering a gun, says Webster, makes it much easier to trace if it is involved in a crime. Licensing means the application process goes through a law enforcement agency, rather than being processed by a gun dealer. Creating that filter has already proven useful, says Webster. "We know from previous research that that there are some seriously shady gun dealers out there," he says. "In fact, we?ve found one percent of gun dealers sell more than one-half of guns used in crimes...
...damp dogs and drying riding gear. But the stove has also become a fashion accessory. "I've sold second-hand Agas to people whose excuse in buying one is that it will be a back-up in case of a power cut," says Tom Harland, an architectural salvage dealer in Devon, in southwest England...
Tourists scoop up some of the illicit bargains, but the best artifacts are bought by dealers filling orders from Europe, the U.S. and South Africa. Using a letter from the N.C.M.M. permitting him to export contemporary arts and crafts--but not antiquities--Lagos dealer Chinedu Idezuna recently booked a crateful of works onto a flight to Amsterdam. "Customs officials check the shipment for narcotics, for this and that, but because I've got the letter, I'm fine," he says. "Our government doesn't permit it, of course, but we gallery owners get [objects] out by telling [customs officials] that...
...wholesale African art in the U.S. is New York City's Chelsea Mini-Storage facility, an enormous warehouse whose ground floor resembles an African bazaar. Hundreds of traders, most from West Africa, have set up stalls, a makeshift mosque and a kitchen where women prepare traditional meals. Upstairs, Senegalese dealer Moussa Cissokho displays his wares. The presentation is modest--the figurines are still caked with soil, and the small space is crammed with crates--but the price is right. For a figure about a foot high that could, if it is a genuine Nok, command tens of thousands of dollars...
...many times this week had he gone to see the dragon? Five? Six? Ten? Fitz had lost count. But he reckoned he went to the den almost every night and paid Ton, the scraggly opium dealer with a green-and-blue dragon tattooed on his thin upper arm, 50 per pipe to get him off. He lay there, watching the dragon coil and uncoil as Ton flexed his arms, working to heat the night-colored opium, mixing the paste with Mr. Headache powder and then rolling it between his palms into cylinders. He broke off pieces from the roll...