Murder on Olympus (18 page)

49

My cell phone rang in the middle of the night, jerking me out of my sleep. It was Hermes.

“Hello?” I said, yawning.

“Jones, we have a problem.”

“What kind of problem?”

“A big one. Do you know where Enyo’s house is?”

My heart gave a jolt. I didn’t have to ask what was going on. “Yeah, I know where it is.”

“Meet me there immediately.”

“On my way.”

I ended the call and rolled out of bed. I wrestled on a T-shirt and jeans. Before leaving my apartment complex, I bought a Coke from the vending machine outside the laundry room. I needed the sugar and caffeine.

At Enyo’s mansion, four black sedans idled in the driveway. Hermes stood near the front door. I parked behind one of the sedans and got out.

Hermes came forward to meet me, frowning. “What took you so long?”

“I got here as fast as I could.”

“Typical mortal. Full of excuses.”

I was too tired to offer a witty rejoinder. “I need to see the body.”

Hermes nodded. “Come with me.”

The inside of the mansion reminded me of a mountain cabin. The walls, floors, and furnishings were all made of polished wood. A chimera-skin rug hung above the fireplace. I wondered if Enyo herself had slain the beast and skinned it. We went into the kitchen, where five OBI agents were snapping pictures and taking notes. The air reeked of decay, and was alive with swarms of flies.

Enyo’s torso lay beside the island in the middle of the kitchen, rotting and covered in flies. The other half of her body was missing. Blood pooled beneath the body, but not as much blood as there should have been.

I knelt beside the torso and shooed the flies away. What remained of Enyo’s corpse was clad in a black leather corset and a spiked collar. Dominatrix gear. Four large puncture wounds spotted her face. Her right eye had been gouged out. Maggots squirmed and wiggled inside the wounds.

Hermes remained near the entrance to the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe.

“She’s been dead at least a week,” he informed me.

“Who found the body?”

“One of our agents.”

“Why was he in the area?”

“We received an anonymous call. The caller stated Enyo’s address, then hung up. The voice was altered, but we suspect it was the killer.”

“Did you gather any more info from the call?” I asked.

“No.”

“Were you able to trace it?”

“There wasn’t enough time.”

I finished examining Enyo and stood up. “Where’s the rest of the body?”

“Missing,” Hermes said. “We’re still looking for it.”

I borrowed a pair of examiner’s gloves from one of the agents and started looking for clues. The cabinet beneath the sink was slightly ajar. Cleaning supplies littered the inside: bleach, dish detergent, wood polisher, and so on. Most of the bottles had been knocked over. I checked the other cabinets. Their contents were neatly arranged.

I removed my gloves, dropped them into the trash can, and walked over to Hermes.

“What you do make of this?” he asked.

“Enyo had a friend over,” I said. “A friend with benefits, given the clothes she’s wearing. Now, let’s assume this friend of hers is our killer. He and Enyo have just finished having sex. Enyo goes to the kitchen for a snack. Her friend follows and
bam
, he attacks her from behind, somehow killing her. After she’s dead, he wipes away his fingerprints. Then he leaves.”

“What about the other half of the body?” Hermes asked.

“If he and Enyo were having sex prior to the murder, there’d be DNA evidence inside her.”

“So the killer gets rid of it.”

I nodded. “And since the killer probably isn’t human, there’s a chance the missing half was eaten.”

Hermes balked at the notion. “Monstrous!”

“Very.”

We moved aside as the OBI’s medical examiner entered the kitchen. She wore a black short-sleeve shirt and rubber gloves. Her curly brown hair was some of the shiniest I had ever seen, and her face could have graced the cover of beauty magazines. If only she didn’t have goat legs. I made a mental note to mention her to Geno.

“Can I ask you a question?” I asked Hermes.

“What is it?”

“A while back, I asked if there was anyone or anything strong enough to kill a God. You said you didn’t know. Does that answer still stand?”

Hermes’s eyes grew cold. “Are you calling me a liar, Mr. Jones?”

“Not necessarily.”

“Then why bring this up again?”

“It never hurts to double-check.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Hermes said.

50

The next morning, I sat in my office, thinking.

With Enyo dead, I now had a new suspect in the form of Collin Stone. Until I had a chance to speak with him, I planned to keep his existence a secret from the OBI. Though relationships between Gods and mortals were fairly common, some of the bigwigs on Olympus, like Hera and Hermes, weren’t too fond of them. Whether Collin was guilty or not wouldn’t matter to them. They’d find a way to pin the crime on him. Probably have him executed within the month. I refused to let that happen.

If Collin was in fact the culprit, how did he manage to kill Enyo and the other two victims? He was, after all, only human. Or at least I thought he was. There are plenty of supernatural creatures that appear to be human: sirens, vampires, shape-shifters. Any one of them could easily kill the average human. But none are powerful enough to go toe-to-toe with a God, let alone kill one. Maybe Collin was a new type of creature, one that no one had ever heard of. And I had to confront him. Lucky me.

I called Bellanca to see if Collin had tried to contact her again. She answered on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Bellanca. It’s Plato Jones.”

Her voice instantly perked up. “Oh hi, Plato. How are you?”

“I’m fine. How about yourself?”

“I’m okay. Have you found Collin?”

“Not yet. I just wanted to know how things were going on your end. Has Collin tried to contact you again?”

“No, I haven’t heard anything from him.”

Damn. On to plan B. “I’d like to talk to his parents if possible,” I said. “Do you have their number?”

“I do.” Bellanca gave me the phone number.

I jotted it down on a sticky note. “Thanks.”

“Is there anything else you need? I want to help however I can.”

“No, that’s it for now,” I said. “I’ll call you if there’re any new developments.”

“Bye, Plato. And thanks again for helping me out. You’re a good guy.”

“Don’t mention it. Take care now.” I ended the call and tried Collin’s parents. Maybe I’d have more luck with them. Their number was international. San Francisco, California. It went straight to the answering machine.

“This is Alice Stone,” said a woman’s prerecorded voice. “We’re unable to take your call right now, but if you leave your name, number, and a brief message, we’ll make sure to get back to you.”

Another dead end. I hung up after the beep, leaned back in my chair, and pondered my next move. For several minutes I was shooting blanks. Then I remembered my last trip to the Ammo Crate. Uncle Magus mentioned that a man had ordered fifty boxes of osmium bullets. Unusual, to say the least. Could that man have been Collin? It was unlikely, but still worth a look.

Around lunchtime, I drove to the Ammo Crate. Magus was behind the counter, doing some paperwork. His blue-and-green polo looked new, as did his checkered sun visor.

“You’re looking sharp,” I said.

“PJ,” he said, shuffling his stacks of papers. “Back so soon?”

“Yep. Can I ask a favor?”

“Of course.” Magus put aside his pen and calculator and looked up, smiling. “You need to place another order?”

“No, nothing like that. Actually, I’m looking for someone. He might be a customer of yours.”

“One of my customers?”

I nodded.

“What does he look like?”

I handed him the picture of Collin that Bellanca had given me. He squinted as he examined it.

“This is an older picture of him,” I said. “Now he has a scar on his right cheek.”

Magus passed the picture back to me. “Yeah, I’ve seen him. He’s the one who ordered all those osmium bullets.”

Jackpot! “Do you have his contact information on file?”

Magus typed something into the computer and turned the monitor toward me.

Travis Martin was the name Collin had provided. I was betting the address was fake too. The phone number was probably real though. If it wasn’t, Magus would have no way of contacting him once his order arrived. I took out my cell and added the number to my list of contacts.

“His order hasn’t arrived yet, has it?” I asked.

“No. Large orders like his take longer to fill.”

“I need you to call me the moment it gets in. Preferably before Mr. Martin comes to pick it up.”

“Sure. But why are you after one of my customers?”

“Sorry, that information’s classified.”

“If you told me you’d have to kill me, huh?”

I grinned. “Afraid so.”

“Figures.” Magus smirked.

“Thanks, Unc.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

I was about to leave when I remembered something. “Oh, before I forget. Guess who’s back on the dating scene.”

Magus’s eyes widened. “You’ve found someone?”

“Maybe.”

He leaned forward and propped his elbows on the counter. “Tell me about her.”

“Well, let’s see. She’s beautiful. Smart. Poised. Not much of a personality. But the looks more than make up for it.”

“Sounds promising. Does she have any single relatives? A lonely aunt perhaps? One with nice breasts and a little waist.”

“In other words, boobs on a stick.”

Magus shrugged.

“You’re a dirty old man, Uncle Magus.”

“I know.”

51

The following morning, I decided it was time to speak with Callisto. At 10:15 a.m. I sat at my kitchen table and called the records office on Olympus. The clerk gave me some basic information on Callisto, as well as her last known address.

Even with the Aegis, I disliked the idea of being face to face with a bear, especially if said bear wasn’t very friendly. I’d feel more comfortable with backup. I knew Herc would be up for it. He didn’t act like it most of the time, but he was a warrior at his core. Always down to bust some skulls should the need ever arise. I was about to call him, but he beat me to the punch.

“What’s up?” I said.

“I’m pissed, Jonesy.” Herc’s voice sounded more strained than usual.

“Again? What is it now?”

“I found someone snooping outside my house late last night.”

“Paparazzi?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“Positive,” Herc said. “I was taking out the trash when I heard a rustling sound coming from the side of the house. I went to check it out and found someone all in black sneaking through the bushes. When he saw me, he took off. I chased after the guy, but it was too dark.”

“You lost track of him?”

“Yeah,” Herc said ruefully. “Bastard was fast. Inhumanly fast.”

A chill raised the hair on the back of my neck. “You think it was the killer?”

“I do.”

“Where’s Hebe?” I asked. “Is she alright?”

“She’s fine. I sent her to stay with Dad and Hera until this whole thing blows over.”

“Good. Listen, Herc. I need your help with something.”

“What’s up?”

“I plan to interrogate a potentially dangerous subject, and I may need backup.”

“Count me in,” Herc said without hesitation. “I’ve been dying to see some action. So, who are we going after?”

“Her name’s Callisto. You heard of her?”

“The bear woman? Yeah, I’ve heard of her. Never met her though.”

“From what I understand, she has a grudge against Hera,” I said. “If she turns out to be the killer, I doubt she’ll surrender quietly.”

Herc cracked his knuckles. “Suits me just fine.”

52

Years ago, Callisto started calling herself a supreme goddess. She thought that being a bear had somehow put her on par with the Olympians. I’m not sure how she came to that conclusion, but it got her into some serious trouble.

Callisto broke the news of her newfound ascension to the entire world via public-access television. She went on to become a televangelist. Her goal was to spread the word of the Bear Goddess, convince people to worship her instead of the Olympians. Before long, she gained a small following of wackos.

Naturally, the Olympians didn’t appreciate what she was doing and warned her to stop. When she refused, they tried to have her assassinated. Allegedly. The attempt failed, but Callisto was so shaken up she cancelled her show and skipped town, along with several members of her congregation. The Bear Cult survived, but its existence faded from most people’s memories.

I pulled into the parking lot of the Temple of the Bear. It was located on the western edge of Boreasville, far removed from New Olympia. The temple acted as both a home and a place of worship for Callisto and her followers.

The pyramid-shaped structure sat in a clearing in the middle of the woods, surrounded by ancient trees. It had no windows and only one door. Its snow-white exterior shone blindingly bright in the sunshine. The temple stood in stark contrast against the smooth black asphalt. A nondescript white van was parked at the far end of the lot. There were no other cars around.

Herc stared up at the temple. “Creepy.”

“You got that right,” I said.

“You think they’ll let us in?”

“I doubt it.”

“You got a plan?”

“Nope.”

We got out of the car and walked to the main entrance. Broad steps led up to massive double doors. A thin rope hung beside the entrance. I gave it a tug. A bell rang inside the building.

A large man in a white T-shirt and sweatpants answered the door, a walkie-talkie in his hand. He had short brown hair, thick eyebrows, and a bushy beard. His close-set beady eyes gave us the once-over. Suspicion rolled off him in waves.

“Who are you?” he demanded, his voice harsh and raspy. “State your business.” He must’ve smoked a lot. I wondered if he had ever set his beard on fire.

“My name is Plato Jones.” I inclined my head toward Herc. “This is my associate, Hercules, son of Zeus.”

Herc held up his hand. “Hey.”

“I’m a private investigator.” I flashed my badge. “I’d like to speak with Callisto, if that’s possible.”

“The Goddess does not wish to be disturbed,” the bearded man rasped.

I tried again. “I just want to ask her a few questions.”

“I repeat: the Goddess does not wish to be disturbed.”

I smiled politely. “It’ll only take a few minutes. Then we’ll be on our way.”

“No.”

“Don’t be a jerk, pal,” Herc cut in.

“Get out of here.” The bearded man slammed the door in our faces.

“That went well,” I said.

“Want me to smash the door in?” Herc asked.

“That won’t be necessary.” I rang the bell again.

The same man answered the door. His small eyes narrowed.

“Quick question,” I said to him. “Can you tell me when Callisto will be accepting guests?”

“Never,” he said.

“You sure about that?”

“I told you to go away.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. You see, I really need to speak with Callisto. It’ll just take a second. Promise.”

The man mumbled something into his walkie-talkie, and then put it in a swivel holster on his belt. Seconds later, four equally large men appeared behind him. All were dressed in white tees and sweat pants. The bearded man stepped outside, and the others followed.

“Look, we don’t want any trouble.” I held up my hands.

“Then leave. Now,” the bearded man said.

“Not until you let me see Callisto.”

“Have it your way.” The guy glanced at his buddies and nodded. The five of them rushed us.

Herc stood his ground near the steps, while I retreated to the parking lot. I fought better when I had room to maneuver. The bearded man chased after me. The other four goons tried their luck with Herc. My opponent had about fifty pounds on me, but I could tell by the way he moved that he wasn’t much of a fighter. Poor fool had no idea what he was getting into. I tried one last time to reason with him.

“You don’t want to do this,” I said.

He threw a wide hook. I dodged the blow and countered with a knife-hand strike to the throat. He made a croaking sound and stumbled backward, clutching his neck. It only took him a second to recover, and when he did, he came at me swinging.

His blows were wild and slow, easy to avoid. When he reared back for a haymaker, I saw an opportunity to end the fight. I stomped on his foot. The tactic surprised him, caused him to hesitate. I struck him just below the nose with my palm. He crumpled to the pavement, groaning, his hands over his face.

A man in white went sailing past me. He struck the ground and rolled several feet before coming to a stop. I jerked my head toward the temple entrance.

Herc stood near the base of the stairs. Two men lay unconscious at his feet. A third dangled in Herc’s grip, held in the air by his neck.

“You okay, Jonesy?” Herc asked. He hadn’t even broken a sweat.

“Just fine,” I panted. “How about you?”

“I’m great.”

I looked around at the injured men and shook my head. “I wish we could have avoided all this.”

“Hey, shit happens.”

“Will you keep an eye on these guys while I talk to Callisto?”

“No problem.” Herc dropped the man, who fell to the ground gasping and coughing. “Shout if you need help.”

“Will do,” I promised. “Just try not to kill anyone while I’m gone.”