Jupiter’s Bones - Faye Kellerman Peter Decker and Rina Lazarus Series

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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

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