Marge said, “How long have you lived here, ma’am?”
“Venus, please. Ma’am is for your world, not ours.”
“Venus, then. How long have you been here with Jupiter?”
“Around ten years. When Jupiter took me in, I was really messed up—drugs, alcohol, two abortions. I had no faith, no beliefs, no … nothing. Just a self-destructive idiot. Jupiter saw right through me.”
She looked at the ceiling.
“Anyway, this isn’t relevant to your investigation. I’m telling you this because …” Tears fell from her eyes. “You don’t know what a savior he was. I truly mean that. That’s what Jupiter did. He dropped a brilliant career as well as fame and fortune to save souls. More than that, he taught others to save souls—me, Bob … Pluto. You wouldn’t know it, but Pluto has rescued many homeless under Jupiter’s guidance.”
More tears. She wiped her face with the corner of her robe. “I suppose you want to know about this morning.”
“Please. Had he passed away when you found him?”
“Yes …”
“How did you know?”
Venus wiped more tears. “He wasn’t moving! He wasn’t breathing! His heart … it had stopped.”
“You felt for a pulse?”
She licked her lips. “Actually, no. I …” She closed her eyes and opened them. “I thought he was sleeping. It was time to get up for morning ablutions and prayers. I went into the room and called out his name. When he didn’t answer, I went over to the bed and … and shook him a little. He …” She stopped to catch her breath. “He fell over when I touched him. His head … falling over the mattress …”
She swallowed.
“I screamed. Pluto … Pluto came in. After that, I really … don’t … one of my attendants ushered me out … brought me back to my room … waited with me. Later, Pluto came to me with the news.”
Marge engaged her with sympathy. “Do you remember what time it was when you came into Jupiter’s room?”
She spoke with effort. “The usual time. Around five.”
“You say he …” Marge tried to be as gentle as possible. “You say he fell over when you shook him. Was he lying down or propped up—”
“Propped up. Jupiter often slept semiupright. He had a sinus condition. Being completely prone stuffed him up.”
“And when you found him, he seemed to be asleep.”
Venus nodded.
“Eyes closed?”
Again, Venus nodded.
“Anything odd about his position?”
“Meaning?” Venus asked.
“Did he appear to be comfortable? Were his limbs contorted, or was anything awry in the room?”
Venus shook her head no. “Everything seemed … fine.”
“Did you see bottles of medicine at his bedside? Things like painkillers or sleeping pills—”
“Jupiter didn’t take painkillers or sleeping pills. He didn’t ascribe to any sort of Western medicine.”
“Did you see any needles—”
“No,” Venus answered. “No needles. Although Jupiter sometimes injected himself with vitamins.”
Marge took in her words. “We didn’t find any syringe.”
“I keep them in my bathroom. Take a look. I have a case of disposables. We use them for hygienic purposes.”
How convenient. Marge said, “Did you inject him with vitamins?”
She raised her eyes. “I injected him a couple of times in the butt.”
“Recently?”
“Three, four days ago.”
“Ah,” Marge said. That explained the needle marks. At least, that was her explanation. She said, “What can you tell me about the bottle of vodka—”
“Ordinarily, Jupiter did not drink. So if he drank himself … himself comatose … or … or dead …” She gulped air. “It could have only been for the purpose of transporting himself to a higher level of faith.”
Transporting himself. Marge would have to get back to that one. “Did you see the bottle in view when you went to wake him up?”
Venus shook her head.
Marge said, “Let me review for a moment. Just see if I have it right. You went into Jupiter’s bedroom around five in the morning to wake him for prayers. He was sitting upright—”
“Semiupright.”
“Semiupright,” Marge corrected herself. “You called out to him and he didn’t answer. You went to shake him awake, and he slumped over, head over the edge of the mattress. At that point, you screamed, and Pluto came in. Is that accurate so far?”
“Yes.”
“Did Pluto come in alone?”
“I believe so. But within seconds, there was a crowd. It was horrible.” Her eyes welled up with tears. “Just … dreadful.”
“Then someone brought you back here, to your bedroom, correct?”
“One of my attendants—Alpha-two, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Alpha-two is your attendant’s name?”
“All my attendants are Alphas.”
“Do they wear vests and robes like Jupiter’s attendants?”
A slight smile. It gave light to her face. Venus said, “Someone explained the color-coding to you. No. My attendants wear white robes with pink collars. They are privileged among the women, but none of them are as privileged as Jupiter’s attendants. This is a male-dominated society. You are told that upfront. Besides, it doesn’t affect me. As Jupiter’s chosen mother, I’m second in command … well, I guess at the moment, I’m officially in command although temporarily Pluto is handling things. Until I can compose myself. But that’s only temporary. I have no intention of letting Pluto step into Jupiter’s shoes. I don’t believe that even Pluto wants that onerous responsibility.”
Marge nodded, scribbling down the cult’s pecking order. “Who will succeed Jupiter?”
“I don’t know who could possibly succeed him. As far as I know, Father Jupiter did not leave any line of succession. And with his sudden death …” Venus’s eyes darted from side to side. “It will have to be worked out. But I assure you the Order of the Rings of God will remain intact. We owe it to Father Jupiter to further his ideals of love, charity and spirituality.”
“Lofty goals.”
“From a lofty man.”
“One more thing,” Marge said. “Pluto came back to your room to tell you the news.”
“Correct.”
“Do you recall the time?”
“Around a half hour later. So maybe it was five-thirty. But I wasn’t clocking him.”
“Of course. So as best as you can remember, Pluto came to your room and told you the news about five-thirty?”
“I suppose.” She buried her face in her hands, then looked up. “It all happened very quickly … very surreal. I still can’t believe … I knew he hadn’t been himself, but …”
“Hadn’t been himself in what way?” Marge asked.
“He wasn’t exactly ill, but he seemed … drained. He hadn’t been in his ordinarily high spirits for least six months. And he often held his head—like he had a bad headache. I was concerned. But when I asked him about it, he shrugged me off and assured me it was all very normal. That it was part of the process.”
“What process?”
Venus eyed Marge. “If I told you, you’d scoff. All the violators scoff.”
“Try me.”
Again Venus hesitated. “Part of the communication process with the beyond. Father Jupiter knew that his body was being tapped of its life energies because he had begun to make serious contact with the forces.”
Again, the room fell silent.
Venus said, “You wouldn’t understand. You couldn’t understand.”
Marge tried to keep skepticism out of her voice. “What kind of forces?”
Venus waved her off.
“Please. I want to understand, Venus. Who had Jupiter contacted?” Maybe someone was threatening him. “Tell me.” Keep the voice even, Dunn. “Were they humans? Were they aliens?”
To Marge, it appeared that Venus was appraising her sincerity. Finally, the alluring woman said, “Not aliens as you perceive them—little beeping things with five eyes and antennas.”
Her voice became intense.
“For about six months, Jupiter had been receiving signals … electromagnetic waves that he felt were coming from an alternative universe. He was particularly excited because these signals were not classic Big Bang background radiation. You know … stuff given off when the universe was created. They seemed to be organized signals. How he could tell, I don’t know. But that’s why Jupiter was Jupiter. Only a man of his scope could interpret such things.”
Marge tapped her pad. “He was a brilliant man.”
Venus’s expression took on a slight sneer—the upward curve of her lips, the roll of her eyes. “An understatement, Detective.”
Marge ignored the condescension. “Tell me about these signals, Venus.”
The young woman’s smile was patient. All in all, Venus appeared cooperative.
“Jupiter said these were far-away stellar signals—many, many light-years away. So distant that they may have come from the original creation of matter. When the universe was still in ten dimensions instead of four. You know about the four dimensions, don’t you—length, width, depth and time as a function of space. Space time. Einsteinian time. Do you know about Einstein’s special theory of relativity? E equals MC squared?”
“I wasn’t great in science,” Marge said. “Maybe you could skip the equations and just tell me in layman’s terms about the signals?”
The female guru seemed relieved and went on. “According to Jupiter, there are other universes that parallel our own. You get to them through the black holes. Unfortunately, once you enter the event horizon, you can’t come back. Even if Jupiter’s space travel theories are eventually accepted, and time is proven to be multidirectional, travel through black holes is strictly one way. So no one can ever come back to tell us about the experience.”
No one spoke. Marge glanced at her notes—black holes, ten dimensions, time multidirectional. She was lost, but so what? She was investigating a suicide, not exploring the Order’s whacked-out philosophy. Still, it was not something to be completely overlooked. The Order’s “isms” may be the reason why Jupiter killed himself.
Venus’s eyes clouded over. “I think I may have mixed up a few points. All I know is that it made perfect sense when Jupiter explained it. He was preparing us for the eventuality of it all. Especially because of the millennia. The timing just seemed to work out perfectly.”
Marge’s ears perked up. “Eventuality of what?”
“Space travel to a different physical as well as metaphysical plane. He claimed that time was closing in. From the Big Bang to the Big Crunch. Of course, Jupiter’s concept of time is different from ours. A short time to him could have been a million light-years. Which is a very long time.” She looked down. “Anyway, this is all tangential. I guess I’m just trying to figure out why.” She exhaled. “Life as we know it is so … short … so temporary.”
“Jupiter’s space travel …” Marge leaned forward. “Did part of the process include suicide?”
“In theory, I suppose that suicide could be made part of it. Not that Jupiter ever mentioned suicide as a mode of transport. He spoke in more theoretical terms. Let me assure you, Detective, that the Order of the Rings of God is no Heaven’s Gate. Jupiter was no crackpot. He certainly didn’t believe in castration. We have children here. Mass suicide isn’t part of our philosophy.”
Marge said, “Still, it appears that Jupiter did take his own life.”
“If he made that choice, he had a very good reason.”
Marge said, “Did you happen to notice any suicide note?”
“No. But I was taken away so quickly … there could have been.” Seconds ticked by. “Did you find something?”
“Did Jupiter ever talk about suicide?”
“Mostly he spoke of the temporal issues of life. Was there a note, Detective?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. If Pluto removed something from Jupiter’s bedroom—”
“I’ll find out. Whatever is in Jupiter’s bedroom now belongs to me.” A beat. “Once you’re done with the questioning, how long is your involvement going to last?”
“Not too long—”
“What’s the process? You determine the cause of death, then release the body?”
“Basic—”
“And if the death was natural, there’s no problem?”
“None—”
“But if the death was caused by suicide, then what?”
“The coroner issues the death certificate based on his findings—”
“And then you release the body for burial?”
“Yes.”
Venus rubbed her eyes. “So why are the police involved? Why do you care if he killed himself or not?”
Marge hesitated. “Jupiter’s demise may be ruled a suspicious death, Venus.”
She raised her hand to her mouth. “You think … that someone could … that’s impossible!”
Marge said, “We have to rule out murder. Once we’ve done that, we’re out of here.”
“No one here would have killed Father Jupiter. Everyone loved him.”
Marge nodded. “You know, his daughter called in the death—”
“His daughter? Europa?” Venus raised her eyebrows. “Well, maybe not everyone loved him.”
Marge wrote frantically. “What can you tell me about her?”
Venus hesitated before she spoke. “I don’t think I should talk about her.”
“Why not?”
“Because if you are investigating a murder, I don’t want to be the one who … never mind. I’ve said enough.”
“I take it Europa’s not your best friend?”
“She rejected her father. That hurt him very much. Of course, I have feelings about her. But I don’t see how she could have had anything to do with his death. She hadn’t seen her father in fifteen years.”
“Yet she called the death in.”
Venus was quiet. Then she got up. “I must get dressed. I need to be a public figure for my people now. I certainly don’t want to give them the misguided impression that Pluto is in charge. So if you’ll excuse me.”
“Of course.” Marge stood. “Venus, don’t you find it strange that Jupiter’s daughter called in the death?”
“I find it very strange.”
“How’d she know that her father had died?”
“Detective, that’s a very good question.”
The thermos of coffee had run dry. Reluctantly, Decker traded the one vice for another. Reaching in the glove compartment of his unmarked, he pulled out a loose cigarette. This one happened to be a Marlboro, but it really didn’t matter. It had nicotine; it would do. He cranked the windows down, sat back in the driver’s seat and lit up, staring out the windshield as smoke exited from his nose and mouth. Chiding himself for the weakness although not too harshly.
He had quit the noxious habit for almost six years. But then came a bloodbath, and the horrific images just wouldn’t quit. The dreaded flashbacks—over a year old—popped up at inconvenient times. It was at those moments when Decker went for the rush. He didn’t fully understand why he’d been thinking about that grisly scene at Estelle’s restaurant. If he had to rationalize it, he’d most likely chalk it up to a hinky feeling about the safety of the children still residing within the compounds of the Order of the Rings of God.
He smoked slowly … leisurely, washing his nerves with a chemical calm. Since becoming a detective lieutenant, he rarely visited crime scenes—only in the extraordinary cases. Like Estelle’s … like this one. The death of famous people always made news, although Ganz hadn’t been an important figure in science for a long time.
The meat wagon had left ten minutes ago, Ganz’s body safely aboard and heading for the morgue. Decker’s job was basically over. Now it was up to the pathologist. If all went well, he’d close shop here within fifteen minutes. He was hungry—it was past two in the afternoon—but wolfing down a sandwich in the car was bound to create a storm of stomach acid. Better to wait and grab a late lunch at home if possible. If not, even his desk was a better place to dine than behind the wheel of a car. He had just finished his smoke when Marge and Scott Oliver came through the gate of the compound. He got out of the car and waved them over.
“What did you learn from Venus?” he asked Marge.
She took out her notes. “The story goes like this. She went into Jupiter’s room around five in the morning. He had been sitting semiupright in his bed and appeared to have been sleeping.”
“Eyes closed?”
“Yes, eyes closed. At least that’s what she said. Venus called out to him. When he didn’t answer, she tried to shake him awake. At that point, he fell over lifeless, and she screamed. Her yells brought Pluto to the room. Immediately, she was ushered out, and taken back to her room. Half hour later, Pluto came to her and told her that Jupiter was dead.”
Oliver said, “So she was in her room for a half hour, just waiting to hear something?”
“Yep.”
“Alone?” Decker asked.
“With one of her attendants.” Marge hesitated. “Alpha-two.”
“That’s the name?”
“Apparently.”
Oliver said, “So what was happening with Jupiter between the time she discovered his supposedly dead body and the time Pluto brought her the news?”
“I don’t know. We should speak to Pluto—”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Decker interrupted. “Scott, why did you say his ‘supposedly dead body’? Any reason to think that Jupiter wasn’t dead at that point?”
“Loo, if someone would have done the normal thing—call in the paramedics or 911 as soon as the body was discovered—I would feel a lot better about this being a suicide. The way it stands now, with no official around to verify Ganz’s death until we arrived, which was around … what, Margie? Around seven?”
“Closer to seven-fifteen.”
“When’d you get here?” Oliver asked Decker.
“Quarter to eight.”
“So between the time that Venus went into Jupiter’s room and someone from the outside actually saw the body—that’s two hours. What do we think happened during that time? We’ve assumed that someone moved the body from the crime scene to the temple. Because we were told that Jupiter died in his bed. But we’re not even sure if that’s true. We also know that some dude named Nova signed a death certificate.”
“Anyone talk to him?” Decker asked.
Oliver said, “They couldn’t seem to locate him—which also makes me suspicious. Pluto said I could come back after dinner—around six. Being as it’s after two, I figured why push it for four hours. Now I know they’re going to prep Nova—tell him what to say and what not to say. But if he’s not a pathological liar, I’ll be able to see through that crap.”
Decker agreed. Oliver turned to Marge. “You want to come back with me?”
“Yeah, I’ll come back with you.”
“So what are you doing for dinner? Want to do Chinese?”
“I’ll do Chinese.”
Oliver turned to Decker, “I don’t suppose you’ll be joining us.”
“Thanks anyway, but I’d like to see my wife.”
Oliver said, “I used to have one of those.”
Decker smiled. “Yeah, well … tell you what. You two come over to the house after Nova’s interview.”
Marge chuckled. “Rina would love that.”
“She won’t be thrilled, but besides being a good sport, she genuinely likes you two.”
“Aw shucks, I’m a-blushin’.” Oliver grinned. “Exactly how much does she like me?”
Decker wagged his finger, then turned serious. “So you think something nasty went down, Scott?”
“Yep. Moving the body is a cardinal sin, and they should have known better.”
Decker organized his thoughts. “Let’s back it up … to your statement about the body being supposedly dead. For the moment, let’s assume that Venus was telling the truth: that she found Jupiter either dead or near death. If Jupiter was near death instead of actually dead, are you saying that someone, during those unaccounted for hours, knocked him off?”
“Why not? It’s possible.”
“But why would someone bother to commit murder if Ganz was already dying?”
“Because maybe Jupiter had a chance of surviving if someone called the paramedics. Could be that Venus was about to call 911, and Pluto stopped her. He sent her back to her room, so he could do dirty work.”
“Why would Pluto have wanted Jupiter dead?” Decker asked.
“Because Pluto wanted control of the Order.”
Marge said, “Venus claims the Order is now under her control.”
“There you go,” Oliver said. “Jupiter isn’t even dead for twenty-four hours and already they’re at each other’s throats. Who knows? Maybe they’re in it together.”
“Who? Venus and Pluto?” Marge shook her head. “I don’t think so.” She flipped through her scribblings. “Point of fact. Venus claims not to have noticed any medication on Jupiter’s nightstand. She said she was taken away and didn’t have time to absorb her surroundings …”
“And that would jibe perfectly with my theory,” Oliver said. “Pluto pushes her away before she can call the paramedics. Then he places the empty Valium vial in the room to make it look like a suicide.”
Decker said, “If someone wanted to fake a suicide, don’t you think the vial would have been placed in the room before Venus arrived?”
“Maybe Pluto was about to do it, but was interrupted by Venus’s sudden appearance.” Oliver rocked on his feet. “Loo, what makes the whole thing suspicious is that the body was fresh. Coronor places the time of death within two hours of the discovery. Rigor mortis hadn’t set in.”
“Most common time of death is in the early morning,” Marge said.
“But we’re not thinking death by natural cause, Margie.”
Decker said, “Maybe it took Jupiter all night to summon up the nerve to do himself in. First, he drank the vodka to lower his inhibitions. Next he finished himself off with the pills.” He ran his hand through thick tufts of hair. “Or maybe Jupiter was a lush and a pill popper, and this was a simple accidental overdose.”
Oliver looked dubious. “He downed a fifth of vodka.”
“We’ve all known alkies who drink that much for breakfast.”
“Venus said he didn’t drink or take pills,” Marge stated.
“According to her.” Decker stuffed his hands in his pocket. “We’ve got a suspicious death—three options. Accidental OD, suicide or homicide. We may never be able to distinguish between accidental OD or a suicide. But that’s not that important for us. The only thing that gets us involved is a homicide. So the question is this: Can you force someone to chugalug a fifth of vodka and/or down a bottle’s worth of Valium?”
Oliver said, “If the guy was a secret drinker, someone could have dissolved the pills in the booze.”
“Valium’s insoluble in water,” Decker said.
“Then maybe someone ground the pills up in his food.”
“Valium has a bitter taste—”
“So Pluto injected it into Ganz’s veins,” Oliver tried again. “In case you’ve forgotten, the body had fresh needle marks.”
“Venus said Jupiter often injected himself with vitamins,” Marge commented.
“Injected himself?” Decker asked. “He had IM needle marks on his butt.”
“Sometimes she’d do it,” Marge said.
“How convenient,” Oliver mocked. “The logical assumption is that someone stabbed him with an IV needle, telling Jupiter that it was his vitamins. Meanwhile guy’s being shot up with a lethal dose of Valium.”
“The drug burns like hell when you inject it,” Decker said. “Jupiter was a scientist. He would have known immediately that he wasn’t being shot up with vitamins.”
“But by that time, it would have been too late—”
Decker said, “I don’t like it. Too many ‘ifs.’”
“So maybe Jupiter was dead drunk when he was dosed up with Valium,” Oliver retorted. “Maybe he had already been knocked out with the vodka.”
“You’re saying Ganz drank himself comatose, then someone finished him off with the Valium?”
“Why not?” Oliver asked.
“For one thing, it’s messy.” Decker paused. “You’re saying that someone went to all this trouble just to take over as leader of the Order.”
