Order of the Leopard

By Elizabeth Ainslee Thorne

Order of the Leopard

The first novel (Order of the Leopard) in the trilogy is in process. It should be available around Mid-July 2014.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 2, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499035964

Elizabeth Ainslee Thorne

Elizabeth Ainslee Thorne is a Fiction writer who resides in Kentucky. The writer’s fascination with Mystery, Art and genetics has combined to produce The Requiem Trilogy, a story set into motion 400 years ago in the Belgium Congo Era. The Order of the Leopard is followed by Servants of Gehenna, and Judgment of Angels. Elizabeth describes what our existence in a post-Millennium world would be like if ruled by the disciples of an ancient deity. Credentials: BA, MA, MS, MMT Mensa

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ELIZABETH AINSLEE THORNE

With Illustrations By

Christine Thomas Lowe

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Copyright © 2014 by Elizabeth Ainslee Thorne.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 10/09/2014

Xlibris LLC

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

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Contents

Acknowledgments

Foreword

Preface

Chapter 1 Meet The Press

Chapter 2 A Dark Secret

Chapter 3 The Amulet

Chapter 4 Peculiar Connections

Chapter 5 Messages

Chapter 6 Unexpected Find

Chapter 7 A Conspiracy

Chapter 8 The Strategy

Chapter 9 The Trail Leads Where?

Chapter 10 Amidst Change

Chapter 11 The Bait

Chapter 12 The Plan

Chapter 13 The Abduction

Chapter 14 Anomaly

Chapter 15 Something Strange

Chapter 16 Escape

Chapter 17 Connections

Chapter 18 A Quick Exit

Chapter 19 Confirmation

Chapter 20 The Hacker

Chapter 21 Back To The Bush

Chapter 22 Contrary Surprises

Chapter 23 First Contact

Chapter 24 The Witness

Chapter 25 The Katanga Factor

Chapter 26 First Glimpse

Chapter 27 Where To Begin?

Chapter 28 The Find

Chapter 29 Wellesley Grand Ball

Chapter 30 Plans Within Plans

Chapter 31 Clandestine Meeting

Chapter 32 Best Laid Plans

Chapter 33 The Arrival

DEDICATION

To my husband, Scott H. Lowe

For his Love, Patience, and

Support.

His encouragement has been

My Strength.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

First, I would like to thank Brenda Caudle for her design work on the cover art, insignia and input that enhanced the inherent nature of the novel.

Second, I would like to thank Sharon Dove for her spiritual expressions and artistic opinion. Her positive support was sincerely appreciated.

Third, a special thanks to John J. Smith, novelist for his guidance and input during the final preparation phase of the novel.

Finally, I wish to thank Our Father for making it possible for me for share my gifts with others.

FOREWORD

As a writer, I often look for new material, that isn’t produced by those that flood the market, in the hope of finding something good, from a writer that can bring a new breath to storytelling. I found Elizabeth’s Order of the Leopard to be just that. A story filled with Intrigue, genetics that included shape-shifting, symbolism, and the beginnings of a romance that made me smile. Order of the Leopard is a page turning story that, at times, kept me on the edge of my seat as I followed my new friend, Catherine through perils that surprised me just when I thought she was in the clear.

Also, as you read through Catherine’s adventure, you’ll find Christine Thomas Lowe’s illustrations is telling the story as well, with a unique way that allowed me to visualize what Catherine was experiencing.

Order of the Leopard is an incredible read from beginning to end.

Enjoy.

-John J. Smith, Author of Delayed Flight and Finding Katie.

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"He whose name I dare not speak has sustained me for a millennium. Today, I am freed from my bonds. I shall walk in sunlight once again."

PREFACE

"I am called Abaddon. For eons, I have been confined in eternal darkness within a deep abyss, bound in a stone prison, yet now I hear a whisper echo. I have been exiled from the Voice that spoke matter into being and only His Word can break the unforgiving bonds of this black silence.

I yearn to walk again in the light of day. Change is coming. Fleeting whispers echo inside the prison walls that have served as the impotent tomb of my despair. They whisper of violent acts performed by Humankind against each other. A millennium has passed. They have fashioned the God that I once knew and loved into a flawed image.

My hour of liberation draws near. Soon a portal will open below this desolate pit. A goat riding a white horse will signal my time to ascend from the abyss. Once again I will walk in warm sunlight. I will choose a man who will serve my purpose, one crowned with golden hair and violet eyes. By day, I shall stroll through sacred gardens, and by night, quench my lascivious desires with the whores of Mankind.

Chapter 1

MEET THE PRESS

Manhattan, New York – Monday, July 7, 2014

This is completely hideous, Catherine exclaimed, as she stared the glaring newsstand headline, Murderer Claims Sixth Woman. Appalled yet fascinated, she snatched up the French newspaper, Le Monde and thumbed through the pages, ingesting every gory detail. Chills bumps made her shiver as she read about a series of bizarre murders that had taken place in the Rue Madeleine district.

Catherine wondered, ‘How could such a brutal killer consistently elude the Police over a two month period without so much as leaving a clue? It sounds like there many clues overlooked according to this article!’ Visions of grisly images flooded her mind. She mumbled, Paris, the City of Love has become a City of Terror, gripped in the hands of a madman who is systematically stalking and mutilating women.

She learned that the primary targets were women who frequented a three-block area near Le Papillion. The newspaper implied that the women were prostitutes. Of particular interest was the nightclub. It was reputed to be a favorite after hour’s nightspot, and a popular lure of government officials.

Catherine was aware of political movements in Paris, a noteworthy one connected with a new United Nations endeavor. She had read an article recently on the project, designed to promote peaceful development of Third World countries in return for education exchanges and assistance to provide them the necessary skills to emerge into the Twenty-First Century trained with abilities necessary to become major world powers!

Glancing at her watch, Catherine realized the Friday morning department meeting was to begin in 15 minutes. Tossing the vendor a dollar, she stuffed the paper under her arm, and then raced to The Times Building.

With the pounding of every footstep, she began to imagine what it might be like to be the reporter who not only scooped the story line, but also cracked the case. Catherine surmised, ‘I need to ring up Stan Kramer about this one. I bet he’d authorize a plane ticket on the spot if he thinks I have a chance to net this story. Besides, Stan would consider this a personal challenge to grab one last cover story before his retirement. Now, if I could snag this story, my journalistic career would be set!’

Catherine was very aware of her editor’s ambitions. Stan was interested in her story and granted her exclusive reporting rights to investigate the bizarre Rue Madeleine murders. However, to gain official approval of the newspaper, they needed to tone down their daring plan - a task for which Stan was quite adept. He and Catherine suspected the women who were killed were probably implicated as messengers for certain high-ranking United Nations officials. The newspaper was certain to buy into this approach. But to Catherine, the veiled promise of uncovering a high-level political scheme involving United Nations officials only whetted her appetite. She envisioned herself as seizing the attention of the World for one profound moment, not to mention the benefits from loads of press. Officially, Stan would state to the powers that be, that Catherine’s reporting responsibility was to ascertain whether the rumors are merely the result of a coincidental governmental rendezvous gone awry. If, however the women were prostitutes they could have been used as informants, then killed. Technically, if she could prove a connection, it would not only justify her trip to Paris, but also expose political corruption spanning a far greater scope of international crime than previously reported by other media.

Catherine obtained her position at the newspaper because of writing skills, fortuitous family connections and fluency in French. The fact that she had traveled extensively in Europe during her youth didn’t hurt. What her employer didn’t know was that in those early years, Catherine accompanied her parents to Partisan political rallies throughout Europe. She often wondered if these connections lead to her parents’ tragic death in a mysterious fire that swept Coventry Manor, burning it to the ground.

Born Catherine Coberg Amherst, her father English, her mother Belgian-French, she spent her childhood in the countryside of Coventry, England. She vacationed during the summer with her parents at their cottage in Dragon Hill, a village south of Oxford. After her parent’s untimely death, Catherine was sent to America to live with her maternal Aunt Jennifer in Manhattan, New York.

After graduating from high school, Catherine returned to England to attend college. She received her Bachelor’s degree in Journalism and took a few computer-related courses. Upon graduation, she embarked upon a journalist career with the London Chronicle, with a lucky break in homicide reporting. Because of her skill at capturing the inside story, she was quickly promoted to the position of investigative reporter.

Two years later, her broad range of experience and favorable family connections landed her a job with New York Times. In America, Catherine believed she would earn the reporting opportunities that would catapult her into major journalist recognition. She welcomed what she believed would lead her to a greater challenge. However, as time passed, the greater challenge proved to be an inescapable web of professional jealousy and perpetual competition by most of her journalistic counterparts. There was, however one exception - her supportive editor, Stan Kramer. Unbeknownst to Catherine, Stan’s ambitions were mightier than she could conceive and connections loftier than she knew. Nevertheless, if she could get this gig, it didn’t matter how or who made it happen.

Chapter 2

A DARK SECRET

Paris, France

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The plane touched down in Charles De Gaulle Airport in the afternoon. Catherine was ecstatic that her assignment was approved to investigate the mysterious murders in Paris.

Having arrived at the hotel, she peered through the tall windowpane of her hotel suite at the hustle and bustle of the streets below, Catherine giddily exclaimed, Victoria, we’re in Paris. Still stressed from the plane trip, Victoria, Catherine’s calico Persian cat was more than content to maintain her vantage point high upon the fireplace mantle, peering down at her mistress. Catherine observed the narrow lanes that extended like wheel spokes, sprouting from one common corner. There was much unpacking to do so Catherine set about to situate herself comfortably in the antiquated but luxurious hotel suite at the Louvre Forum.

Rising early the next morning, Catherine was ready to begin her research, determined to uncover clues that would crack the bizarre series of murders that had rocked Paris in the last two months.

Emerging into the clear sunlight of the Parisian morning, she spotted a nearby newsstand. ‘Sometimes, details are revealed that could be overlooked by a routine investigation,’ she conjectured.

Catherine asked the vendor, Which news sources would you recommend that best cover local events and crimes? The small wiry man quickly loaded her arms with several newspapers and tabloids. Catherine raced back to her hotel room eager to plunge into what seemed like hundreds of articles, hoping to discover just one detail that might provide a starting point for her investigation. As she read more chilling details of the dancers’ murders, it became increasingly evident that certain bizarre aspects of these murders seemed almost like a pattern, though no mention was made.

Based on the official reports from the Police, and having placed calls to INTERPOL and the CIA in America, she learned that these killings didn’t fit any known mode of operation! Catherine pondered to herself, ‘It’s possible that this killer has never ventured outside of Paris. How peculiar it is that the police have found no real leads. Yet after 6 murders, they claim to not only have no blood sample to link with the killer, but not one useful shred of evidence or clue to the identity of the killer.’ Catherine had a gut feeling that there must be more going on than has been shared with the public. She surmised, ‘Surely, at least one victim put up a fight, hopefully drawing the attacker’s blood.’

She wondered if the Police already secretly had this information. She imagined a myriad of reasons why such information would be withheld from the public. She speculated, ‘Since there may be a link with certain United Nations members, what if the Police are protecting their identities?’

Combing at yet another article, this one stated that according to the Coroner’s reports, the victims were not only sexually assaulted and mutilated, but also dismembered! Each victim bore two sets of tooth-like lacerations around the throat and genitals. In some cases, body parts were missing. A queasy feeling began to develop in the pit of her stomach as she poured through the lurid details. She thought ‘Parisian papers are certainly more graphic than the American press!’ As Catherine continued to read, the gruesome images painted a vivid picture in her mind.

Wednesday morning, Catherine began her interviews with the detectives assigned to the murder cases. When she interviewed the detectives, she learned they had formed a rather startling hypothesis, that the killer might be consuming the evidence! The Police speculated that the victims might have been kidnapped for sacrifice in some satanic ritual, and certain organs were removed and possibly ingested by the cult. After all, it is well known that some cannibalistic cultures believe they can acquire the power and strength of their enemy by consuming the organs. This hypothesis was strengthened when putrid smelling regurgitation was found in an alley near the body of one victim. The sample was collected, bagged, and delivered to forensics for blood and tissue analysis. As suspected, tissue results proved to be a match with that of the victim.

Catherine decided the next move should be to conduct interviews with the staff and entertainers employed at Le Papillion. She hoped to discover any detail that might have been overlooked by the Police.

During the next two days, Catherine learned another curious twist in the growing puzzle of events not yet published. At the site of each murder a set of men’s blood stained clothing was found near the victim’s body. To coincide with this, an alarming increase in burglaries had been reported by fashionable men’s clothing stores not far from the vicinity of the murders! On one occasion a blond-haired man wearing a suit had been seen, running down the same street as the clothing store that had just been robbed. According to the article, he then disappeared into a nearby alley.

In the afternoon, she learned that forensics had uncovered a peculiar finding when running the latest fabric and chemical analyses on a pair of discarded blood-spattered trousers found at a crime scene. Evidently, this victim put up a struggle, injuring the attacker. At last, she hoped, ‘This might finally provide the killer’s blood type’.

Jumping on the information, Catherine made several phone calls, and gained permission from the Medical Examiner, Yves Rousseau, to inquire about the lab results on the blood sample. She learned the blood type was analyzed as an ordinary blood type in the ABO blood grouping system. Oddly though, it possessed no Rh factor. Forensics explained the absence as probably being a recessive genetic condition, or belonging to a family of genetic variations under the more common factors. Because this obscure fact was considered a minor priority, follow-up testing was not immediately conducted. Two weeks later, however, when testing resumed, the analysis revealed an interesting feature. It seemed the blood contained an unidentified hormone. Upon further analysis, it was determined the blood was not human after all! It was assumed that most likely, someone contaminated the blood test. The hormone issue however, had a peculiar impact on a few curious molecular biologists that had joined the team for assistance in the primary research phase.

The unusual blood samples were later re-evaluated and identified as probably human, but the unidentified hormone continued to confound forensic scientists and medical experts. Their closest guess was that the Pituitary gland produced the mystery hormone in abnormally large quantities. It was suspected the hormone interacted with other glandular hormones, resulting in causing some kind of change in the physiological structure of targeted cells. Not knowing which cells were targeted or the extent of the effect, they wondered what influence it might exert over other cells in the human body.

Speculation continued. The scientists further speculated that since the pituitary gland controls the adrenals, the release of the new hormone might correspond with some external stimuli. They hypothesized that since the hormone ACTH adrenocorticotropic hormone was released under such emotional conditions as fear, anger, sex or pain, that perhaps similar conditions might likewise activate the production of the unknown hormone. This concept, they confessed was merely speculation. The investigators were content with the probably human identification. They didn’t give much credence to the farfetched ideas of scientific upstarts looking to make a name for themselves.

In the following weeks, chemical analysis of the blood sample containing the strange hormone was found to have properties in common with those found in feline blood, and typed under an AB blood grouping system. Since the physiology of such an anomaly was previously unknown, it made the hormone virtually impossible to medically identify or classify. The scientists had no clue as to what aberration could have produced such a hormone. They could only speculate about its general metabolic functioning. Their immediate concern was whether or not it contained any viral attributes, upon transmission into a normal human bloodstream, causing abnormal readings. If so, how would they conduct isolation procedures if it were really a threat to the public? At this point, they did not have enough information to form a solid opinion or offer a suggestion for official action. However, the scientists were in agreement on one thing, the hormone did not fit any known biological pattern. For medical identification purposes, they called it a feral hormone, because of its similarity to the feral nature of undomesticated cats. The forensic scientists were content to leave the esoteric research to a group of genetic scientists headed by the infamous Dr. Doppelganger who had participated in some highly criticized genetic studies in England over the years. He always maintained a central position, however, probably due to his high profile funding sources. As a result the hypothesis was all but abandoned by the police investigators.

Law Enforcement was under increasing public pressure to find the killer and put out notices welcoming any information they could get. The murders were attracting the attention of broadcasters outside of Europe as the days dragged into weeks. At this point, the investigators sought to enlist the aid of the FBI for further testing and analysis. They found the new lab directors to be most cooperative. It came to the attention of the directors that a peculiar hormone was found in the blood samples. Arrangements were made to transport blood and tissue samples containing the alleged peculiar hormone to the FBI. They hoped their lab, with their sophisticated equipment, could quickly identify the source of the strange blood type. This would give the Paris police the lead to do what they do best and put an end to the growing list of victims.

During the FBI’s investigative process, they sent a second blood sample to Alder-Mastin in an effort to see if a cross-match existed for a similar blood type.

After all, their research equipment was the only national forensic research lab in the World that possessed a vast database. They considered it was worth taking a chance.

As time passed, the Parisian Police began to heavily depend on the findings of the FBI lab. In the meantime, they expanded their security efforts with more foot patrols in the Rue Madeleine district. Hysteria was beginning to engulf all of Paris while the murderer still remained at large.

The Police had an idea that was published in Le Monde that didn’t garner much consideration but did gain notoriety. They proposed that the perpetrator may have enlisted the aid of a large trained cat to perform violent murders in a deliberate attempt to confound the investigating authorities.

After reviewing the police files for unusual reports involving animals, Catherine was inclined to believe the truth was somewhere between the two extremes. She continued her interviews with people who knew the victims, hoping to uncover an actual eye witness to a murder.

The case took a bizarre twist when a pastry worker, Celeste Duperies, was making éclairs in her kitchen bakery at 4:00 A.M. She alerted the Police to a disturbance outside her kitchen window. She was startled by a menacing sound emitted near the back door and described it as a deep rumbling sound, like the growl of a large animal. As implausible as it seemed, Celeste remained firm in her testimony. She told investigators, The sound was such that could never have come from the throat of a human being.

he next day Catherine launched her own search to locate any reports involving large cats on the loose. She contacted the curators of Menagerie and Bois de Vincennes zoos in Paris, but was informed none of their cats were missing.

Resolving to return to her original approach, she contacted a dancer at Le Papillion who roomed with the most recent victim. During the interview, an elderly Cajun woman, Ruby LaFolette who was fitting the dancer’s costume, remarked, "When I lived in New Orleans, it was said among our people that an ancient group of leopard worshipers had migrated from East Africa to New Orleans. The dark ones as they were called were greatly feared. It is said that anyone who had the misfortune to stumble across one’s identity was never seen again."

Catherine replied, How awful. In all my research, I’ve never heard that story before.

As ridiculous as this sounded to Catherine, she couldn’t help but wonder if there was any truth in what the old woman believed. She could not shake the cold feeling that crept up the base of her spine. Pondering over the information contained in the medical examiner’s reports and the controversy that erupted over the unidentified hormone, she was uncertain of the significance of this information. Since she was hitting dead end leads, why not follow a long shot, albeit farfetched? Catherine resolved to book a flight to New Orleans in search of information so phenomenal, it might cancel the validity of her investigation, should the New York Times learn the true purpose of her trip.

Chapter 3

THE AMULET

New Orleans, LA

Upon debarking the ramp of the plane, Catherine was greeted by a wet blanket of humidity weighing down the air. Even the bed linens in the hotel room were damp from the muggy atmosphere. Aside from her general discomfort, Catherine was determined to begin her research as quickly as possible. After a quick review of the Yellow Pages, she decided her first stop would be a visit to Madame Girard’s.

Eager to begin research, Catherine exited her hotel room and stood on the curb of the rain soaked street. She observed the colorful two-story apartments pressed adjacent to each other. Painted in a rainbow of pastel shades, the second floor verandahs were trimmed in ornate wrought iron while each apartment possessed its own matching color iron hand railings, leading to an uneven sinking sidewalk.

Hailing a cab, Catherine stepped into a rain puddle as she climbed into the waiting vehicle. She requested to be driven to the corner of Annunciation and Delachaise Sts. where according to the phone directory, an occult shop was located.

The only building on the corner was a curious looking taupe-colored frame building with a pale orange awning which read Madame Girard’s Occult Shop over the corner entrance. She noticed a fortune teller hand sign displayed behind the orange-painted window frame enclosed behind black burglar bars. She suspected this might not be the safest neighborhood, but decided not to let her fears deter the mission.

Catherine pushed open the glass double doors. A tinkling sound from a silver bell overhead signaled her entry. High on the wall behind a long group of old walnut display cases was a sign, which read, Welcome to Madame Girard’s.

Catherine looked around the poorly lit room with morbid curiosity. Inside the glass counters were figurines of demons, figures of men, women, and cats heads sculpted from red and black wax. She saw colored glass enclosed candles labeled with such names as Reversible, Passion, and High John the Conqueror. A narrow bookshelf to the right of the door was filled with spell casting books. Beside them was another long shelf that contained bottles of magic oils with strange names like Conjure Oil, Devil’s Oil, and Uncrossing Oil. In the middle glass display case she observed all manner of ornate knives labeled For Ornamental Purposes, Only. She speculated, ‘These items must be sold for use in pagan rituals, what else would they be used for?’

She then approached two women milling about the shop and inquired,

Excuse me, but have you ever heard about a Leopard cult in New Orleans?

The startled women gasped and glared at her. They replied in thick Cajun accents,

No, then promptly exited the shop! Catherine remarked,

Well, that struck a nerve then left the shop, herself.

Her next stop in the quest for forbidden knowledge led her to a little shop called Sister Bouvier’s Candle & Herb Shop, run by a Cajun Tarot reader of the same name. She hoped to get lucky this time and find someone who could answer her question.

Catherine was escorted to a back room through a green curtain sewn with beaded-glass. She was seated at a round table covered with a purple velvet cloth. It had a huge five-pointed star painted in gold that Catherine recognized as a pentagram. At the edge of the table was several amethyst quartz crystals laid in a formation pointing toward what appeared to be a brass bird’s nest containing a 3-inch diameter crystal ball encircled by a Chinese dragon. To the left of the pentagram were two decks of Tarot cards.

Shortly an elderly woman dressed in a long black skirt with a red paisley blouse and silver shawl entered the room. The reader introduced herself in a Cajun accent. Catherine took the opportunity to launch into an explanation of how she had come a long way and that she was seeking specific information about a leopard cult that allegedly lives in New Orleans. Seeming puzzled by her question, the old woman grew restless. She answered sharply, You speak of leopard men. I know nothing.

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