Jupiter’s Bones. Faye Kellerman

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      “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.”

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