“If you don’t mind, I think you should put the shells in a bag, or the garbage,” she said gently, signing as she spoke.
He shrugged and stuffed the seeds into a pocket.
Glancing behind her, she noticed Jace had positioned himself next to Ashley again and was whispering something to her. Ashley looked embarrassed and shrugged. Eric glared at him and put himself between Jace and Ashley without any effort at subtlety.
Turning back to the entrance, Kitty thought of what Elaine and Penny had said. She didn’t believe that Jace was going to age like homemade guac, but there was a lot of truth to the idea of some husband putting a fist into Jace’s perfect nose. The man didn’t seem to know when to back off.
***
Half an hour later, they were ready to file back out into the sunshine and head for their lodgings. The temple had been busy, as it usually was on a sunny weekday in the height of tourist season, but they’d managed to have quite a lot of time to explore the frescoes and displays.
“I thought we were going to see the place where they sacrificed people,” one of the Van Horn boys signed, looking disappointed. For all their phone-gazing, Kitty approved of how both boys seemed to include everyone, hearing and deaf, when they asked a question. It also made Jace’s refusal to learn a single sign even more obvious.
“The Mayas are famous for their human sacrifices, it’s true. But in Tulum, more often they sacrificed animals, such as jaguars.” Kitty paused, pointing into another chamber near the stone steps. “Right through there is an altar that was used at the top of the steps. We’ll take that part of tour tomorrow and the guide will tell you more about how they chose the sacrificial victims.”
“Jaguars?” Ashley asked. “How awful.” She rubbed Billy’s ears, as if comforting herself at the thought of the beautiful animals killed.
“Not any more awful than people,” Penny signed, her jeweled fingers flashing in the light.
“True. But still…” She shivered. “It’s awful to think about.”
Kitty saw Ron and Liliana exchange a look, smiles spreading over their faces. “Am I wrong?” she asked quickly. “I’ve always heard there weren’t human sacrifices at Tulum.”
“No,” Ron signed. “You’re correct. But what we’re carrying in these bags here,” he patted the black duffle slung over his shoulder, “is directly related to that chamber in there.” He looked like the proverbial kid on Christmas morning, but the one who knew what all the presents were before anyone opened them.
“Dear, we shouldn’t say anything here,” Liliana signed.
“You’re right, you’re right.” He was still grinning. “But my life’s work culminates in a meeting here tomorrow morning with the curator. It’s going to make history.”
“Sounds wonderful!” Kitty had known there was something important in those bags, and she was more than slightly relieved it was archeological and not pharmaceutical. “I’d love to hear all about it tonight, if you have time.”
“I think you’ll all remember this trip for years to come,” Ron said. “Not many people get to be part of history.”
Jace let out a huge yawn and said, “So, we headed to dinner? I’m starving.”
Kitty motioned for them to head back up the stairs to the entrance. As the filed along the narrow stone steps, Chica nudged her hand, bringing her attention to the far side of the room. Daniel was peering into the small chamber to the right. A column stood in the center. It was black, about eighteen inches in diameter, and three feet tall. As small as it was, it still gave Kitty an unsettled feeling. The deserted chamber was very dark in the corners and for a moment, she imagined she saw something moving in the shadows. When Daniel saw her waiting for him, he left the doorway and headed toward her.
“Looks too small to sacrifice a jaguar on,” he signed. His eyes seemed even bluer in the dim light. He readjusted his cap. “We saw some in the Detroit zoo. Huge animals. They weigh hundreds of pounds.”
“Strange, isn’t it? I always thought they were larger. I don’t know how they sacrifice the jaguar, but they bent the human back over the column so the chest was exposed. Then they slid a knife into the diaphragm and pulled out the heart while the victim was still alive. Very shocking, really.”
“Depends on the person, I suppose,” Daniel said. “Maybe they only chose the con artists and thieves of the group. Oh, and philanderers.” He looked pointedly at Jace ascending the stairs ahead of them.
“Oh, yes. Perhaps,” Kitty said without expression, but inside she was cringing. Daniel Van Horn’s hatred of his new stepfather was clear to everyone, and nobody blamed him for feeling the way he did. Anyone forced to be near Jace had sympathy for Daniel, who seemed devoted to his mother, even with the unfortunate choices she’d made. But Kitty couldn’t help feeling that the man needed to set a better example for his sons. Boys their age acted on their emotions without thinking of the consequences, and although Kitty hadn’t seen either one gave Jace the time of day, they might just feel that their grandmother’s pool boy deserved a little reminder that he didn’t fit into their family, or their wealthy society. Rage bubbling just under the surface could spill out with just the right push.
Stepping out into the open courtyard of the ruins, Kitty sucked in a breath of surprise. The weather had taken a turn and the temperature had dropped. Zipping up her jacket, she flipped up the hood against the gusting wind and motioned for the group to follow her to the bus. Chica bent her head and trotted along beside Kitty, a resolute expression on her face. Kitty couldn’t put off calling Captain Tavish when they reached the hacienda. She had to know whether they needed to come back to the ship tonight.
Climbing into the bus, Kitty settled herself into the seat beside Manuel. Chica rested her head on Kitty’s lap, something she rarely did unless she got the sense Kitty wasn’t feeling well. “I’m good,” she whispered and scratched Chica behind the ears. Okay, so maybe she was a little stressed out and wishing Tavish would cut their visit short. Tensions were rising within the group, and the only people who seemed happy were the archeologists.
It’s only one night. Nothing really bad can happen in one night. Kitty repeated the words to herself as they drove back through the city of Tulum, the sky darkening above them and the first fat drops of rain falling on the windshield.
Chapter Three
You only live twice: once when you are born
and once when you look death in the face.”
― Ian Fleming
“A hurricane that’s passing through the Gulf has changed course, moving South. Looks like Tulum is going to catch the very edge of it. Winds at fifteen to twenty, and some rain. Nothing to worry about unless you’re sleeping in a hammock outside.” Tavish’s deep voice echoed down the line. “If anything changes, I’ll let you know immediately, but for now, it doesn’t look like there’s any danger whatsoever.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it,” Kitty said. Tavish didn’t need to return her call personally. He could have had a crew member pass on the information. His calm, measured advice was a godsend at a time she was swinging between packing up to leave, and hunkering down to ride out the storm.
“How’s the group?” There was something in his tone that rang alarm bells. Or maybe it was the fact he’d never asked before.
“Fine, I suppose. Why?”
“I ran into one of your members the other night. He was lurking around the crew member’s lounge. Said he was meeting a friend, but I could have sworn he was scoping out the place.”
Kitty sighed. She didn’t have to ask who that had been. “I’ll keep an eye on my wallet.”
“I don’t think you have to worry. Chica won’t let anyone near you,” Tavish said, laughing.
Kitty had to agree. Chica had been watching Jace with a laser-like focus since they’d disembarked the cruise ship. It was almost as if she was waiting for him to turn cartwheels or throw bacon. She was the calmest German Shepherd Kitty had ever seen, and yet Jace seemed to put her on edge. May
be he had that effect on everyone.
***
Because of Tavish’s phone call, Kitty was the last to seat herself at the long farmhouse table for dinner. Manuel had been invited to eat with the group and he scooted over so that Kitty could squeeze in beside him. Crickets sang outside in the courtyard and a stiff breeze buffeted the light curtains that hung at the entranceway. Chica was sitting just to the right of Kitty’s chair, watching the brightly colored curtains, as if waiting for a visitor. Kitty glanced at the garden outside, but could only see the shadowy shapes of plants. She shook off a feeling of unease. There was no one there, no mysterious figure traveling on the wind. No one was going to step through the doorway and into their midst.
“Mija, you look tired,” Señora Gomez whispered as she passed by Kitty’s chair. “Don’t work so hard.”
“I won’t,” she promised. Kitty wasn’t offended at the motherly comment. She probably looked beat. Señora Gomez and her daughter, Juanita, had hosted Kitty and her groups so many times before that she was starting to feel like family. She’d definitely spent more time with Señora Gomez than some of her own distant relatives. The older woman had once told her that she’d been widowed very young and managed to bring up seven children by herself. She sold tamales and did laundry to put her children through school. There was an older boy who worked as an accountant in a city nearby, and a daughter who was in college to be a teacher. Life was much better than it had been when Señora Gomez was raising her family alone, but it was clear that money was still tight. Especially since Juanita was hoping to go to cosmetology school in a few months. Kitty always made sure to tip generously and encouraged her group members to do the same.
The two women offered large pitchers of agua horchata, but every member of the tour chose soda pop or bottled water. Kitty had never had a problem at the Gomez’s ranch house because they didn’t use tap water for cooking, but she didn’t argue with their choice. It was a wise move. Nobody wanted to experience any unpleasant gastrointestinal issues while on vacation. Even a luxury cruise ship of the highest quality could be a miserable place if you spent all your time in the bathroom.
Shallow earthenware bowls of seafood broth were set before each guest, along with small dishes of chopped parsley and cilantro. Manuel exclaimed over the sight and even got up to give Señora Gomez a big kiss. Juanita blushed as if he was going to give her the same thanks, but he bowed gallantly to her instead, which seemed to make her blush harder. Eric and Ashley began to eat, but the Van Horn teens looked dubiously at their portion. The elder Mrs. Van Horn signed for them to try it, but only one boy picked up his spoon. Jace drank half of his soda and looked around for the second course.
Kitty was seated across from Ron and Liliana, and took a chance on asking about their plans for the morning. “So you’re meeting the museum curator tomorrow morning?” she said and signed.
“At nine. We’ll take the tour with you first,” Liliana responded with a bright smile. “It’s all so exciting. These pieces have been in a museum in the Bronx for more than fifty years, and now they’re coming home.”
“I can imagine how happy the museum is to have the items back,” Kitty said.
“So how do you know what belongs at the temple?” Eric asked.
“Sometimes we can tell if a piece belongs here by how it’s made.” Liliana was signing so quickly that Kitty was having trouble translating into both English and Spanish. Manuel was listening intently. Jace was focused on Ashley, and whatever he was saying had made her frown. Eric had stopped eating his soup and was staring at the two of them from across the table.
“Are they very valuable? Maybe you should have left them in the ship’s safe until the morning,” Daniel Van Horn said from the end of the table.
“Oh, incredibly valuable, but we’re such a small group. And I’m sure Señora Gomez will lock up the hacienda tonight,” Ron said. He glanced around, as if to make sure they were all listening. “There is one piece that is estimated at millions of dollars. Not that it will be sold, but that’s the appraisal for insurance purposes.”
“What’s worth millions of dollars, Kitty?” Jace asked suddenly.
Kitty wished she hadn’t been translating after all. “Just artifacts,” she said quickly.
“Is that what you all have in those bags?” Jace said. “Personally, I don’t know why anybody cares about something that old.”
Liliana’s face went pink. “Well, it’s certainly a matter of personal preference. I suppose I feel that way about modern art. Just a lot of lines and squiggles, and nothing to tie it to the past.”
“But everything I’ve seen in a museum is ugly. I can see if it’s got rubies or emeralds, yeah, it could be nice, but most of the stuff is just brown and dirty-looking.” Jace shrugged. “And to think we spend so much money keep those places open. Wouldn’t it be better to use the money on someplace useful, like…”
“A new stadium?” Daniel Van Horn asked, blue eyes narrowed.
“Exactly,” Jace said, taking a swig of Coke.
Ron cleared his throat. “I’ll be right back,” he said, pushing back his chair.
Kitty watched him leave, wondering if he was taking a break from the table in order not to throttle Jace.
Moments later, he was back, a black cloth in his hand. He scooted his plate to the side and set down the package. Liliana quickly signed, “Are you sure?”
He didn’t respond. Unfolding the black cloth, Kitty could see several small objects nestled in the fabric: an earthenware jug, a carving, a statue. He started to explain that the carved, round stone was a calendar when Manuel pointed. “What is that?” he asked.
“This,” Ron said, stroking it lightly, “is a ceremonial knife.” It was about nine inches long and with a wooden, carved handle. “The crouching figure on the handle is in the shape of an eagle warrior. They were called the ‘fighters of the daytime’ and were highly respected. In mythology, the eagle carries the sun from the underworld, up above the mountains, and into the sky every morning.” He passed it carefully to Manuel to examine. “The mosaic pieces are turquoise, several types of iridescent shells, and malachite. The handle is wrapped with maguey fibers.”
“I have never seen anything like it. I can see why it is so valuable,” Manuel murmured.
“Is― is that a…” Ashley looked to Kitty. “What’s the sign for sacrificial knife?”
Kitty provided the signs and Ron shook his head. “If you mean for human sacrifices, the answer is no. X-rays showed the hafting is far too shallow. Any real force, like so…” He made a stabbing motion and June put a hand to her mouth, a look of horror on her face. Penny and Elaine both leaned forward eagerly. “It would have broken it in two. Most likely a ceremonial blade for other purposes, or perhaps a gift to warriors who had pleased the god Huitzilopochtli.”
Kitty was glad she’d heard of Huitzilopochtli before or she’d have had to ask for a spelling. Ron took the knife from Manuel and walked around the room, holding the knife gently in his hands so that the others could see the delicate mosaic patterns on the handle.
Mrs. Van Horn grimaced as she examined the chipped stone blade. “This looks like it’s been used on someone,” she said.
“If so, they are long dead, my dear,” Elaine said. “And probably a jaguar.”
Jace was leaning forward, his elbow almost in his soup bowl. “And how much is it worth? Like, on the open market. You said millions. Are we talking two million? Ten million?” he asked.
“Impossible to put a price on it,” Ron said. “Those flint blades are a dime a dozen, comparatively. Even obsidian blades with jade handles aren’t as rare. But this…” He gazed at the small knife in awe.
“But if you had to, what would you say?” Jace insisted.
Ron sighed, irritated to have to name a number. “Ten million, I suppose.”
Liliana said quickly, “Insurance appraisals are different than open market prices. Plus, it would have to be sold on the black market because i
t’s already been catalogued and promised to a museum. A sale of something like this wouldn’t go unnoticed.”
“Why would you bring it to a museum if it’s worth ten million? What a waste.” Jace rolled his eyes.
“We’re archeologists, not dealers,” Liliana said stiffly.
Kitty wondered if anyone could get through to Jace, or if he was simply blinded by the idea of millions of dollars sitting out in the open. She’d never had a group member arrested before, but if she had to guess, Jace was going to be the first.
“The Mexican government is looking very closely at imports of this type. A person may have been able to buy an artifact off the street a few decades ago, but not now,” Ron said.
Jace was looking extremely unhappy.
“There are some very nice reproductions, though. My last visit, I saw a little shop selling knives made from obsidian and jade. I can show you―”
Jace snorted. “You can’t tell me that Mexico doesn’t have a few border security guards who can be bribed. Don’t you think, sweetie?” He turned to Mrs. Van Horn and flashed his perfect smile. “We pick up something nice for the foyer and then slip someone a little cash at customs.”
“Oh, yes,” Mrs. Van Horn signed, eyes wide. It wasn’t clear whether the elderly woman understood Jace’s comment, or whether she was simply humoring him. “Of course you’re right.”
The table went quiet. Manuel was looking at what soup was left in his bowl, frowning. Kitty knew that most Mexicans felt shame at the corruption and bribery that was so common in their country. She’d heard Manuel discuss it openly, but she was sure it would be different to have it mentioned so blithely by a wealthy foreigner.
Murder at the Mayan Temple (A Starling and Swift Cozy Mystery Book One) Page 3
