Читать книгу Jupiter’s Bones - Faye Kellerman, Faye Kellerman - Страница 12

It took some time and a little internal maneuvering, but eventually Marge was given the go-ahead to interview Venus. She had expected her bedroom to adjoin Ganz’s, but it was located on the other side of the compound. She was led to the chamber, flanked by two gendarmes in white robes, each one looking very grave. One had facial hair, the other was clean-shaven, but both had close-cropped haircuts. The bearded man knocked on the door. It was answered by a smoky, female voice asking who was there. After Marge identified herself, the voice told her to come in. Beard opened the door, but didn’t dare cross the threshold—as if restrained by an invisible net.

Marge went inside, then took a moment to look around. Spare but bright, the room held a double bed, a Shaker-like chair and a bookshelf. Venus was propped up by pillows, her legs stretched out atop the bedcover.

Talking to her guard, she said, “You may go now, Brother Ansel.”

The man hesitated, then spoke in a nasal voice. “Are you sure you want to be left alone with a violator, Mother Venus?”

“Yes, I can manage. Thank you for your consideration. You may go.”

“As you wish.” He left, throwing Marge a hostile look as he shut the door. The two women made eye contact.

Marge said, “Thank you for seeing me, Ms …”

“Just call me Mother Venus. Or just Venus.” She’d been reading a paperback. She put it down in the spine-up position, and pointed to the chair. “Have a seat.”

“Thank you.” Good-looking, Marge thought. Even with red eyes and no makeup, her features were striking. Appearing to be around thirty, Venus had shoulder-length, chestnut hair that framed an oval face. Translucent green eyes were shaded by enormous lashes. Her silken complexion was wan—to be expected—but Marge detected a hint of pink at the cheekbones. She wore a bright blue robe that plunged at the neckline and fell open mid-thigh, exposing graceful legs. She wasn’t wearing a bra, but even without the support, she had cleavage. Her feet were bare and her left ankle was adorned with a gold bracelet. She lowered her gaze, then flung the bottom of the robe over her uncovered legs. Crossed and recrossed her ankles.

Marge felt funny addressing her as Venus, although if one needed a model for the goddess of love and beauty, this one could fit the bill. She craned her neck and managed to read the paperback’s title—Faith and Beyond. She couldn’t make out the author. Extracting a notepad from her jacket, she said, “Would you mind if I took some notes?”

“Why would I mind? I have nothing to hide.”

Marge digested her words, translating them. She has something to hide. “I’m sorry if I have to probe into sensitive areas—”

“You’re just doing your job.” Again, Venus recrossed her ankles.

“What are you reading?”

The question seemed to momentarily stump her. She glanced at her side and picked up the paperback. “This?” A shrug. “Something in Jupiter’s library. The metaphysical part is interesting, but the science is complex.” She tightened the robe around her neck. “That was Jupiter’s forte—science … physics … cosmology. The very origins of existence. But you know that already, don’t you.”

“Yes, we know who Jupiter was.”

“He was a great, great man.” Venus’s voice tightened. “I can’t believe …” A sigh.

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.”