detective-for-hire Jaguar Jones stopped on a street curb, shards of broken glass scattered underfoot. A group of people crowded around a man and the smashed-in windows of his car. “I don’t get it,” the man said, “who would do this?” “Looks like you’ve got burglary troubles, friend,” Jaguar smoothly observed. “But who would do this?” the man asked again, “The thief went right past my laptop, iPod, and cellphone, and just took all my CDs and some old Ray-Bans. Why would someone go through the trouble of breaking in through my windows for that old crap?” Jaguar scanned the faces of the crowd and let a humorless smile cross his face. “I guess that crap might not have been so old, depending on who you ask,” he said, and grabbed a man from the mob by the collar of his leather jacket. After a quick frisk, all of the stolen items were found and returned. How did Jaguar know who broke into the car?
Jaguar recognized the thief’s Members Only jacket and immediately realized he was dealing with a time-traveling burglar from the 1980s. In the context of his time’s technology, the thief wouldn’t have recognized the value of the laptop, but would have been excited for the chance to sell the CDs for twenty dollars apiece when he returned to his native era. The man was convicted by the Superior Time Tribunal and sentenced to time deportation and two years in time exclusion.
* * *
, detective-for-hire extraordinaire, stopped in his tracks at the shrill sound of a woman screaming in distress. Local buxom young vixen, Brittany McBongos, burst through her front door wearing only a towel and ran straight into Jaguar’s arms. “Oh, Mr. Jones!” she cried, “Thank goodness you’re passing by! I saw a man peeking through my bathroom window! I think it was one of those three men, but I can’t be sure which one!” Brittany pointed to a trio of seedy-looking men smoking cigarettes on the corner. They were Tommy Johannesen, Tommy Parkshih, and Tommy Flanders, and all three were well known to Jaguar for all the wrong reasons. The men pretended to be deep in conversation, but Jaguar knew it was a ruse. Only seconds into the job, he already had his man. “Tommy Johannesen,” Jaguar said coolly, “say goodbye to your scum buddies. You’re headed back to the big house.” Tommy Johannesen put up his fists. “You’re not takin’ me without a fight, Jones. I didn’t do nothin’.” Jaguar smiled. “You might as well put the cuffs on yourself, Johannesen, because I know it was you looking in the window. You might have convinced these suckers that you’re sane, but I can clearly see your nuts.” How did Jaguar know Tommy Johannesen was to blame?
Using his incredible detective’s intuition, Jaguar looked for anything that seemed out of place. Because Tommy Johannesen was naked from the waist down, it was clear to Jaguar that he had been up to something more than visiting friends on the street corner. Tommy Johannesen was convicted and sentenced to fifteen months’ probation.
* * *
T’S JAGUAR JONES
, the great detective-for-hire!” someone yelled from a mob of people huddled in front of the rare coins store. “He’ll help us!” Jaguar gracefully strode to the group and asked what was up. “What’s up?” he asked. A man, covered in tears and with his arms forcefully pinned behind his back by two other men, spoke up. “The rare coin store has been robbed, and they’re blaming me. But I didn’t do it, Jaguar! I swear on my children’s souls! My children’s souls!” The crowd murmured in response. “We don’t have any evidence, Jaguar, but he can’t prove that he didn’t
do it!” the storeowner yelled. “Don’t worry, folks,” Jaguar said with a wry smirk, “sometimes it’s all about knowing just where to look.” Jaguar reached inside the man’s belt strap and pulled out a large gold coin. “I would guess he’s hidden the rest of the loot already, but this piece of evidence should be enough to lock him up for a long, long time.” How did Jaguar know where the man had hidden the coin?
Fortunately, the souls of the man’s children have nothing to worry about, because their father was as innocent as he proclaimed. Unfortunately, they’ll never know it. It was Jaguar Jones who robbed the rare coin store in disguise and then framed the man in question using a simple slight-of-hand trick, because Jaguar wasn’t going back to prison, not for no one, and not for nothing. The man was found guilty and sentenced to death by lethal injection.
is sick and tired of being constantly mistaken for Freddie Prinze Jr., and curses his well-defined cheekbones and abs with every waking breath. His work can also be found in Skive Magazine
and the Tommy Bomani: Teen Warrior