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“I’m not sure.” Decker pulled out the videotape. “Maybe this’ll help us find out.” He dropped it into a plastic bag.
“Where’d you get that, Loo?” Oliver asked.
“I’ll return it. Don’t worry.” Quickly, Decker changed the subject. “What time did Venus find the body?”
Marge said, “Pluto said around five in the morning.”
“Pluto said,” Decker stated. “Has anyone talked to Venus?”
“I’ve tried but she’s been in seclusion,” Oliver said. “Incommunicado until she took her place at the processional.”
“She’s going to have to be interviewed.” Decker rubbed his eyes. “So all the information about Jupiter’s death is via Pluto?”
Oliver nodded. “He’s the official spokesperson.”
“I don’t know about that.” Decker explained the cult’s pecking order, mentioning that there were three other privileged attendants. He told them about Bob.
Oliver said, “So who are the other two?”
Decker said, “Count the purple vests.”
“Venus was wearing a purple vest,” Oliver stated. “That leaves one more. Want me to go out to the processional and take a look, Loo?”
“Are you done here?”
Oliver shut the dresser drawer. “I’m done. I don’t know about Detective Dunn.”
Decker turned to Marge. “Find anything to suggest that this was anything other than a suicide?”
“Nothing at first glance, at least.” She consulted her notes. “Empty fifth of vodka under the bed, empty vial of … let me get the exact name …” She paged through her notes. “Nembutal sodium capsules … twenty milligrams per capsule. Vial was empty, prescribed originally for ten capsules, no refills. I also bagged a vial of diazepam—”
“Valium,” Decker said. “Diazepam is the generic name.”
Marge looked up. “Whatever you say. I don’t use that stuff. I found an empty vial prescribed for twenty tablets, also twenty milligrams per tablet.”
“Ganz’s name on the labels?”
“Not Ganz, Father Jupiter.”
Decker said, “The label read ‘Father Jupiter’?”
“Yes.”
Decker said, “Where’d you find the empty vials?”
“On his bed stand,” Marge said. “All the vials were dusted and bagged. To me, it plays out like a typical case of mixing drugs and alcohol.”
“What about anything injectable?” Decker asked.
No one spoke for a moment. Then Marge asked why.
“Because the ME found recent IM needle marks in his arm and butt.”
Oliver smiled sheepishly. “Uh … there’s a slew of shit in his medicine cabinet. I wrote it all down, but I didn’t bother to dust or bag it. Not with the two empty vials at his bedside.”
“I’ll bag it,” Decker said.
“It’s not that I screwed up—”
“Who said you screwed up?”
“You’ve got that look on your face, Deck.”
Oliver had screwed up, but Decker let it go. “Go out and find the remaining guru—”
“Yeah, yeah,” Oliver muttered, stepping over the crime tape. Deck wasn’t a bad guy. He never lorded his position over those in his command, and he didn’t buddy up to the brass. Begrudgingly, Oliver was forced to admit that Deck probably made it to the position on merit.
“Come back here when you’re done, Scott,” Decker called out.
“Fine, fine,” Oliver answered.
When he had left, Marge asked, “Needle marks?”
“Yep.”
“Self-inflicted?”
“In the arm, maybe. But in his butt?”
Marge regarded his face. “The empty fifth of vodka … the pills. Everything’s too neat. You have doubts, don’t you? So do I.”
“I just don’t like it when the crime scene has been altered. It would have been one thing if someone had tried to revive the body—moved it just enough to do CPR. But to move a corpse in order to place it in a shrine before contacting authorities? I find that odd. People are usually nervous around dead bodies.”
“The group’s strange. Maybe they have odd ideas about death and bodies.”
“Even so, Marge, someone should have known better. Then you have the fact that the death wasn’t called in by anyone in the group. It was called in by Ganz’s daughter. So how did she find out about it? And if no one in the Order of the Rings called the police, what exactly were they planning to do with the corpse?”
“Bury it on the grounds?” she suggested. “They seem antiestablishment enough to do something like that.”
“That’s certainly true.” Decker slipped on a pair of latex gloves. “We have two immediate tasks.”
“We have to talk to Venus,” Marge said.
“Exactly. Do you want to do it? Might be better woman to woman.”
“Sure. I’m just about done here, so I can do it now. Unless you want me to bag the vials in the bathroom.”
“No, I’ll bag ’em. The second thing we need to know is—”
“Who from the group called Jupiter’s daughter?” Marge interrupted. “Which means someone should talk to her. You’ll do that, right?” She smiled. “Anything to get out of here.”
“Why waste my breath if you know what I’m going to say?”
Marge laughed. “No need to get peevish, Loo. All it means is that you trained me well.”
The bathroom was a closet crammed with a toilet, a washstand and a shower without a stall—a curtain cutting across one of the corners, and a mounted handheld water spray. White tile walls, white tile floors, all of it slippery when wet. A drain had been cut into the floor. Above the washstand was the medicine cabinet. Decker opened the cupboard, plastering his body against the opposite wall to avoid getting hit by the swing-out door. There appeared to be around thirty different white plastic bottles, each with its own label. At first glance, nothing was in duplicate form. Which meant everything would have to be bagged separately. Decker draped a clean cloth over the toilet seat—which was surprisingly in the down position (had a woman been in there?)—and laid the plastic evidence bags down on the clean surface. He also placed a cloth over the washstand. Then he took out his pad and pen.
He started at the left upper corner:
Echinacea Purpura—For supporting the immune system. One hundred capsules at 404mg each.
Decker wrote down the name of the drug, the number of tablets per bottle and the dosage of each pill. Then he spilled out the remaining capsules on the cloth draped over the washstand and counted them. Twenty-six still in the container. Carefully, he picked them up and put them back into the bottle, counting each kerplunk as they dropped to the bottom. Twenty-six tablets on the first count, twenty-six tablets on the second count. It’s a wrap. He bagged and labeled the bottle.
One down, around twenty-nine more to go. He glared at the vials, knowing the same routine awaited him. Aah, the glamour of police work. Perhaps a little gray matter helped solve a few cases. But the true tricks of the trade were patience and an eye for detail. Of course, a confession never hurt. With any luck, he’d finish the bagging before the procession ended. And if he didn’t, he hoped that the gurus would leave him alone to do his thing.
He took another bottle from the shelf: Zinc tablets (as citrate). One hundred tablets at 10mg each. Forty-two tablets remaining.
Bottle three: Calcium (as calcium citrate). One hundred tablets at 200mg each. Eighty-six tablets left.
Bottle four: Manganese. One hundred tablets at 100mg each. Seventy-seven left.
Bottle five: Vitamin C (as ascorbic acid). One hundred tablets at 100mg each. Forty-two left.
Bottle six: Sublingual B
with folic acid and biotin.
Decker read the instructions.
This unique formula is in sublingual (under tongue) form, the most effective form known for the absorption of vitamin B
and folic acid (other than injection).
He thought a moment.
Other than injection.
Maybe that explained the IM needle marks in Jupiter’s arms and butt. He was shooting up B
. Maybe this was going to turn out to be simple.
One can hope. Decker turned the bottle in his gloved hand. It held one hundred tablets, each containing 800 mcg of vitamin B
, folic acid and biotin. One hundred and eleven left.
Bottle seven: Super-Antioxidants. One hundred and twenty tablets, each containing 100,000 IU of vitamin A (one hundred% as beta-carotene), 500mg of vitamin C, 200 IU of vitamin E and 25mg of selenium.
Decker emptied the bottle onto the cloth. They looked like horse pills. Fifty-seven left.
Bottle eight: Healthy bones supplement: For a healthy skeletal system. This one contained calcium, zinc, manganese, magnesium, copper (as gluconate), boron, horsetail herb extract, yucca juice and vitamins C, D, B and K.
Decker perused his notes, then looked back at the shelves. Lots of concoctions containing the same supplements—vitamins C, D and K. And the minerals zinc, magnesium and chromium. There were five bottles holding megadoses of vitamin C. If Ganz had taken all of the pills, all at once, he would have been overdosing on many of the vitamins and minerals, some as much as ten thousand milligrams more than the recommended daily dose.
Is it possible to OD on vitamins? Decker didn’t see why not. Vitamins were drugs. Judy Little would know.
Moving from the first shelf to the second, Decker found more of the same—vitamins, minerals, extracts and supplements. Interestingly enough, as he waded through the bottles, he found no prescription drugs, nor did he locate any over-the-counter medication. Not even a lowly bottle of Tylenol. Yet on Ganz’s nightstand were recent prescription vials of Valium and Nembutal. And according to Marge, his name was typed on both of the labels.
Speculate later, Deck. For now just finish up.
Fifteen minutes later, the cupboard was empty. As he gathered the numerous evidence bags, Decker felt hostility over his shoulder.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?”
Pluto’s voice. Decker turned around, knocking into the little man with his shoulder. “Are you all right?”
“No, I’m not all right.” Pluto rubbed his shoulder. “You clobbered me.”
“It was an accident. There’s not enough room in here for two people.”
“Agreed. You shouldn’t be here.” Pluto’s face was bright red. He continued to massage his shoulder.
Decker felt the hairs on his neck rise in protest. But he managed to check his temper. “Sir, this is a crime scene. And you, being here, are in violation of the law. Now I know you want me out of your hair. So make it easy for me and leave—”
“You’re taking personal property—”
“I am taking evidence from a crime scene. Now if you don’t get out of my way, and out of this room, I’m going to handcuff and arrest you in front of all your people.”
“Which will only serve to stoke their simmering anger—”
“I’m willing to chance it if you’re willing to spend a night in jail. Now move it!”
Pluto rocked on his feet, faltered, then stepped aside. Decker stomped out of the bathroom, bags in arms, then placed them on the floor. He searched around for shopping bags for easier transport. “Is the processional done?”
Pluto sighed. “Yes.” Another sigh. “Yes, it’s done.”
Decker regarded the man’s face. He seemed genuinely saddened. But as soon as he realized Decker’s eyes were on him, he hardened his expression. “I suppose you ghouls are going to take Father Jupiter’s body now. When will it be released for our private burial?”
“We won’t keep it any longer than necessary.” Decker spoke softly. “I’m very sorry for your loss, sir. Father Jupiter was a great man.”
Pluto held the stare, then looked away. “Yes, he was. Thank you for your words.”
Decker paused. “Perhaps you can explain something to me. The death was called in by Ganz’s—”
“Father Jupiter.”
“Yes, of course. The call to us came by way of Father Jupiter’s daughter. Now, as far as I know, no one in the Order of the Rings of God called it in.”
Pluto was silent.
