Veronica Kingston : The Curse of the Jaguar Claw (M/F)

[ver987]

I looked down at the doughnuts I had bought that morning and decided that I would resist the urge to eat another one before lunch. I drank some coffee and read the headlines in the morning paper. In between columns on a tax cut and the end of a strike by longshoremen I saw that a woman’s body had been fished out of the river overnight. I glanced back at the doughnuts lying on the plate on my desk. My waistline was saved by a knock at the door. A tall middle aged man walked in.
‘Good morning sir. What can I do for you?’ I politely enquired.
‘Good morning. You are Miss Kingston, the private detective?’ he asked.
‘Sure just like it says on the door. Take a seat.’
‘I will come straight to the point. You will doubtless be aware of the murder of young women taking place recently? I know what is going on.’
‘Have you been to the police?’
‘Yes but they don’t believe me! They think I’m crazy! You will think I’m mad too!’ He said with anger in his trembling voice.
‘I try not to leap to conclusions and talk is cheap even at my prices.’ He relaxed a little and told me his story. His name was Miles Simeon. He had recently purchased an item from a pawn stop on West 47th Street. It was a jaguar claw that had been stuffed and mounted on a bronze base. He had a taste for this kind of curio but he also recognised something familiar about it. By coincidence he had seen a drawing of the claw years before. It was a fetish of a cult that dated back to the Mayan civilisation.
‘I thought fetish was a kind of sex thing?’ I interrupted.
‘It can also mean an object that is endowed with magical powers.’ he corrected me. It seems that one of the recent murder victims had some scratches on her body. A newspaper had published a drawing and he saw that it resembled one of the symbols carved at the bottom of the base of his claw. He believed that the cult may have resurfaced.
I leaned back in my chair.
‘It’s more likely to be a simple coincidence than some ancient cult running around Manhattan floating women down the Hudson. In any case it is a police matter and I try to avoid stepping on their toes. Just go home Mr Simeon and let the cops worry about it.’
He left the office with a defeated expression. I felt hungry so I ate my doughnuts.

Later that afternoon the phone rang. I answered and recognised Simeon’s voice.
‘Miss Kingston I think they have found me. I have decided to post the claw to you. Please take it to the police and try to make them believe!’ Then the phone went dead. I remembered that Simeon had spoken to the cops so they would have his address. I rang my pal Lieutenant Jerry Sullivan. He was a good cop and a real nice guy with a wife and two kids. We occasionally did each other favours.
‘What are you sticking your pert little nose into now Kingston?’ said the friendly voice at the end of the line.
‘Cases that you guys can’t handle.’ I told him about Simeon and his abrupt phone call and he promised to have a cop pay a visit to his address.
‘Ok. Thanks for the call Veronica. I’ll get back to you if there is anything you need to know. Otherwise keep out of trouble?’ I pull the phone down and decided to go home.

I had walked four blocks before I was sure that I was being followed. It was a tall guy wearing a trench coat. I stopped at a dress shop and pretended to look in the window to see what he would do. He stopped up the street and tied his shoe laces. I turned around and walked straight back at him then turned into a dark alley at the top of a small set of steps. I dived into the shadows and waited. He followed me into the alley and I stuck my foot out to trip him up. He took a tumble down the steps and rolled along the street. I followed him down and pulled my gun on him.
‘I don’t like being followed so please make an appointment to see me in my office.’ I picked up his hat and pushed it back on his head then I walked off.

At the office the next morning I had a call from Jerry. He told me that Simeon was nowhere around. The cops had found a notebook with the last entry being my name and office address stapled with a postage slip for a package.
‘Nobody has reported him missing unless you want to? ’ he added.
‘I don’t think so. But I was followed by some guy last night so maybe there is something going on? I think I will fish around.’ I told him.
‘Ok be careful. Much as I would like to see the back of you I don’t want any more paperwork.’
‘Keep in touch you dumb flatfoot.’ I put the phone down and smiled.

Later that morning a mail man marched into the office and made me sign for a package. I cut open the brown paper and took the lid off a shoe box to find the jaguar claw sitting wrapped in tissues. I decided to lock it away in my safe. There was a return address on the label so I went along to Simeon’s rooms to check for anything the police might have overlooked. The landlady let me in for a small gratuity. I found the diary that Jerry had mentioned and had a look through the recent entries. It recorded the address of the pawn shop where Simeon had purchased the claw. That afternoon I flashed my badge at the pawn broker and spun him a yarn about the claw being stolen property of sentimental value. When he had pocketed a small bribe he gave me the details of who had pawned it to him.

I changed into a black pinstripe trouser suit for the evening and drove to the address which was a small house in Brooklyn. It was getting dark when I knocked at the door. There was no answer but the door was half open so I decided to chance a little trespassing.
‘Hello. Is anyone home!’ I shouted. I noticed a large cupboard in the corner so I opened the door and found a small collection of identical jaguar claws to the one sitting in my safe.
‘What the deuce is this all about?’ I said to myself. Hands suddenly grabbed me from behind. I struggled in vain as there were at least three assailants. A blindfold was tied around my eyes and hands quickly pulled my jacket off. I was lifted up and laid down on the dining table. My shoes were removed and I was stretched spread eagled with my hands and feet tied to each of the table legs. My shirt was unbuttoned and pulled away leaving me exposed in my slip.
‘Well we have caught a very pretty burglar. Doubtless a gift from the jaguar god!’ said one of the voices.
‘Hail to the jaguar god!’ said four or five men in a refrain.
I felt sharp spikes ran across the soles of each foot. It tickled like hell!
‘Stop that.’ I yelled.
‘Hail to the jaguar god!’ said the voices. This time a set of spikes ran across my stomach. My muscles involuntarily twitched at the touch and I let out a scream. I realised that they must be using those damned claws on me.
‘Great jaguar god! We sing your praises!’ bellowed the men as more spikes were gently run across the soles of my feet and I burst out laughing.
‘Praise him!’ Praise him!’ Multiple claws stimulated my sensitive stomach muscles and I writhed around on the table. A pair of hands tickled me under the arm pits and I was overwhelmed with uncontrollable laughter. I felt hands stray across the tops of my breasts and I twisted around pulling angrily at the restraints.
'Let me go! Help! Help!' I heard my voice yell from behind the blindfold.
‘Accept this sacrifice!’ I heard all the voices shout together. ‘Hail to the jaguar god’ and five pairs of hands began to feverishly tickle my feet and upper body. I was struggling in the ropes and screaming my head off as I madly thrashed around under the onslaught.’ It went on for a few long minutes and then stopped. The blindfold was removed and I found myself surrounded by five men. They burst into a round of applause as they untied me.
‘Bravo! Great performance! We really liked the idea of you pretending to be a burglar.’
I looked around completely bemused as I buttoned up my shirt.
‘How does it feel to be a human sacrifice?’ one of the youths asked.
‘I’ve had better days. Who is this jaguar god?’
‘No idea we just made it up as part of an initiation ritual for our drinking society.’
‘So that is what is going on here!’ The men looked a little confused.
‘You are from the agency aren’t you!’ one of them asked.
‘No I’m a private investigator.' I said angrily as I put on my shoes and retrieved my suit jacket. 'How come one of your claws ended up in a pawnshop?’
‘Members have their own claw and if they leave the brotherhood the claw is pawned as a mark of disgrace.’ explained the leader of the wolf pack.
‘So if you really are a burglar perhaps we ought to tie you up again!’ said one of the young men with a hopeful look on his face. I decided to leave quickly before they got any more ideas.
‘No thanks! I think I we should call it a night. Nice meeting you all!’

I went back to the car and collected myself after my bizarre ordeal. It was then I felt a gun in the back of my head.
‘So you have met the Brotherhood of the Jaguar Claw?’ said the voice.
‘Yes. They seem quite a nice bunch when you get pass the ritual sacrifice. Have we met before?’ I asked him.
‘I was the guy you pushed down the steps last night. By the way it hurt!’ He slapped me in the back of the head with the gun and I felt my face hit the steering wheel as I passed out.

I was out for around half hour during which time my captor had taken me to a small industrial workshop. I had been trussed up with tightly clinched ropes and placed on top of a log with the loose ends fastened to thick ropes wound about the heavy stump. I struggled in the tight bondage but it was all extremely secure. The log was sitting on a motor driven belt and my head was pointing toward a large circular saw which I could see if I twisted my neck enough. Five minutes later my mysterious attacker returned.
‘Hey pal. Isn’t this a little melodramatic? Did you leave your cape at home! Perhaps if you just tell me what you want we can work things out?’ I hopefully suggested.
‘Shut up Miss Kingston. Now lets get down to business. I believe you have the jaguar claw. Simeon posted it to you?’
‘Sure. Where is Mr Simeon?’ I asked.
‘I buried him a few miles from here. I want the craw please. Just tell me where it is and when I have it I will let you go.’
‘It is totally worthless. There were half a dozen of them in that house.’ I told him.
‘Wrong Miss Kingston! Those claws were copies of an original that the leader of those juveniles found in a junkshop. The idiot pawned it before I could make him an offer. Simeon was right about it being a relic from an ancient cult but his imagination got the better of him when he started linking it to recent murders. However it is worth a small fortune which is why I’m going to all this trouble.’ he explained.
‘Fine! You can have it. Its of no interest to me. It’s in my safe.’ I gave him the combination and he took my office keys.
‘Now you wouldn’t be lying to me would you?’ he asked in a menacing voice.
‘I just want to get out of this! I didn’t ask Simeon to post the damned thing to me!’
‘Good!’ He pressed a red button and the circular saw began to rotate.
‘Hey! What are you doing? I thought we had a deal’ I desperately began to twist and turn in the tight bonds. The conveyor belt began to slowly move as the saw whirled around faster and faster.
‘You lousy rat! Let me go!’ I angrily hollered.
‘Sorry detective but I hate loose ends.’ he said as he walked off. I started to scream at the top of my lungs.
‘No! No! Please! Help! Help! Please help me!’
The engine of the saw drowned out both my voice and the sound of his footsteps on the concrete floor. The belt was inching toward the saw which had already begun to cut through the top part of the log. I could feel the air being disturbed by the motion of the blade. I twisted my head and looked at the savagely rotating metal with a horrified fascination. Minute particles of sawdust violently spewed out as the saw effortlessly tore through the wood. It was inches from my head! I screamed and desperately rocked myself backwards and forwards in a hopeless attempt to loosen the ropes in the last seconds before the merciless blade sliced into me.
‘Hey lady you live dangerously!’ said a voice.
‘Turn it off! Please turn it off!’ I shouted. The belt stopped and the saw slowed to a halt. I breathed a sigh of relief and looked up at the faces of two of the Brotherhood of the Jaguar Claw.
‘We were all watching you leave when we saw that guy hit you in the car so we thought you could be in trouble.’ said one of the young men. There are times when being a real cute girl can work in your favour!
‘Thank you so much guys!’ They quickly untied me and helped me off the log. Three other young men marched my abductor in holding his bloodied nose.
‘We know this guy. He tried to buy one of the claws a while back.’
I roughly retrieved my office keys and punched him in the face. It seemed that he was fated to be the last victim of the jaguar claw!

[Caesar73]

Very classy!

[ver987]

Many thanks for the comment!

[slackywacky]

Nice story. On to the next chapter...