23
I arrived at Zeus’s around 10:00 a.m.
The King of the Gods spent most of his time in his private estate, high atop Mount Olympus. Perched on the edge of a cliff, the main building was accessible only by helicopter. With its clean white exterior and futuristic design, it looked like an alien spaceship on stilts. Rich people had strange tastes.
Hermes and I entered the mansion through a pair of sliding glass doors. The interior was simple but modern, with a lot of solid colors, stainless steel, and rounded corners. Curved walls enclosed the room. The place was impressive to be sure, but it lacked warmth. Literally and figuratively—the air conditioner was cranked up so high I could see my breath.
In all, the estate felt more like an office building than a home.
Hermes showed me to Zeus’s office and told me he’d wait outside. Glass made up the entire room. I wished I’d brought along a large rock.
Dressed like a spokesmodel for a Big & Tall suit shop, Zeus sat behind a glass desk at the head of the room. Light winked off the gold and platinum threads woven into the fabric of his charcoal suit. The light-blue tie matched his eyes. Neatly trimmed dark-brown hair and beard emphasized his chiseled features.
Even sitting down, he radiated power. His presence filled the room like an invisible current, washing over me and making the hair on the nape of my neck stand on end. I wasn’t sure if he was doing it on purpose or not. Either way, one thing was clear: you don’t screw with the King.
Hera, Zeus’s wife and Queen of the Gods, stood to the right of her husband. Her tight white dress showed off some fairly nice curves. Diamond jewelry glittered on her wrists, neck, and fingers, and her black hair was pulled into a severe bun. You could slice your finger caressing her razor-sharp features. I wanted to check Zeus’s hands for scars.
“Greetings, Mr. Jones,” Zeus said, his voice deep and commanding. “It’s nice to see you again. Please, have a seat.”
I sat on the couch and nodded at Hera. “Ma’am.”
She sneered at me. Charming.
“Would you care for something to drink?” Zeus offered.
I shook my head. “No thanks.”
He nodded and laced his fingers. “Hermes tells me you were out with my son the other night. How is Hercules? He and I rarely speak nowadays.”
“Herc’s fine.”
Zeus smiled proudly. Hera rolled her eyes.
“With all due respect, Mr. President, can we just get down to business?”
Zeus stood and looked through the glass wall behind his desk, beyond which lay a spectacular view of New Olympia. Then he began to pace back and forth. Hera continued to watch me. Her gold eyes were daggers.
“Where are my manners?” Zeus said. “I haven’t even thanked you for coming on such short notice.”
“Well you didn’t leave me much choice, did you?” I said. My voice showed every bit of the agitation I felt.
“You forget yourself, mortal,” Hera snapped. “You are in the presence of Gods. One more outburst, and I’ll have the flesh stripped from your bones.”
“Calm down, my love,” Zeus said. “Mr. Jones can’t help us if he’s dead, now can he?”
Hera crossed her arms and tilted her chin. Her diamonds flashed in the sunlight. “I suppose not.”
I waited until the tension in the room had eased. “There was no need to bring Alexis into this.”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures, I’m afraid,” Zeus said. “You were my best agent. Quick on your feet, able to find solutions in the most unlikely places. Your talents were invaluable to our organization. We need them again.”
“I appreciate the compliments, Mr. President. I really do. But I’m just a modest PI. I don’t have the resources to conduct an investigation of this magnitude.”
Zeus summoned me forward. He took a check out of his suit pocket and slid it across his desk. I picked it up. It was double his original offer. My jaw nearly dropped when I saw all the zeros.
“Will this be sufficient?” he asked.
“I believe so.” I tried to sound nonchalant. I folded the check in half and slipped it into my back pocket.
“In that case, let us move on. The enemy you face has the power to kill Gods. Being mortal places you at a disadvantage. But I have something that might help.” He pressed a button on his intercom.
A woman’s voice issued from the speaker. “Sir?”
“I need you in my office.”
“On my way.”
Seconds later, the door opened, and in came Chrysus, Zeus’s personal assistant and director of the Treasury. She was also a certifiable bombshell, in a gray skirt suit that showed off a good amount of thigh and breast. Her thick blond hair was pinned back, revealing perfectly applied makeup. The glasses were a nice touch. I’ve always been a fan of the naughty librarian look.
She bowed her head to Zeus. “What can I do for you, sir?”
“Chrysus.” Zeus gestured toward me. “You’re familiar with Mr. Jones?”
Chrysus regarded me with a polite smile. “Of course. How are you, Mr. Jones?”
I gave her a thumbs-up. “Super.”
“Mr. Jones has agreed to help us,” Zeus said. “Go to the Treasury and retrieve Athena’s Aegis.”
“Yes, sir.” Chrysus bowed her head once more and left.
As she walked away, I glanced at her backside from the corner of my eye. If Zeus or Hera noticed, they didn’t say anything about it.
Once the office doors had closed, I asked the obvious question. “What’s Athena’s Aegis?”
The King of the Gods sat back down. “One of the secret treasures of Olympus. Only a select few know of its existence. Whoever wears the Aegis is rendered invulnerable. I’m lending it to you.”
I pursed my lips.
Invulnerability? Now we’re talking!
“Thank you.”
Hera laid a hand on Zeus’s shoulder. Her fingernails were painted blood-red. As she spoke to him, her gaze remained fixed on me. “Are you sure that’s wise, my love? Handing over such a powerful treasure to a human? You know how untrustworthy they can be. You’ve seen their reality shows. Backstabbing left and right.”
I smiled innocently.
Zeus patted Hera on the hand, and returned his attention to me. “I’ll have the Aegis delivered to you once Chrysus retrieves it from the vault and handles the necessary paperwork. You should have it by the middle of next week.”
Hera drew her hand back and scowled at me. “You had better be careful with the Aegis.”
I held up three fingers. Scout’s honor.
“Well if there’s nothing else, I suggest you get started.” Zeus began sorting through a stack of papers on his desk.
That was my cue to leave. I rejoined Hermes at the front door, and he escorted me back to the helipad.
The S-O-B had a satisfied grin on his face. “How did the meeting go?”
“As well as can be expected.”
“I take it you’re going to help us then.”
“Yep.”
“You know Zeus expects quick results?”
“Yep.”
“Where will you start your investigation?”
“I haven’t a clue.”
24
“So the Gods threatened Alexis to get you on the case.” Herc shook his head. “That’s pretty despicable, even for them.”
We were sitting at a table at the Night Owl. It was twenty after four in the afternoon, so the place was essentially a ghost town. Just us, Harold the bartender, and Abas. For the past hour, Abas had been cleaning the men’s bathroom. I was drinking gin and tonic. Herc had a rum and Coke.
“The Gods never cease to amaze me. Just when I think they can’t get any lower, they pull a stunt like this. At least the money’s good. Which reminds me.” I took the wad of money Herc had offered me the other day and tossed it on the table.
“What are you doing?” Herc asked.
“I’m giving your money back.”
“It’s not mine anymore.”
“Sure it is.” I slid the cash toward him. “Go ahead. Take it.”
Herc stared at the cash. His was mouth tight, his eyes unblinking. He reached for it, but stopped himself at the last second. I cocked my eyebrow in surprise.
“No,” Herc said, shaking his head defiantly. “I’m your client. This is your fee. That’s the way this is gonna work.”
“You’re not my client, Herc. Zeus is the one who hired me. He’s the one footing the bill. Now go ahead and take it.” I pushed the money even closer to him. “Buy Hebe a new ring or bracelet or something.”
Emotions clashed across Herc’s face: guilt, excitement, anxiety, more guilt.
“You really don’t want it?” he asked.
“Read my lips. I do not want your money.”
“Are you absolutely positive? Beyond a shadow of a doubt?”
“Will you just take the damn money, Herc? Please! Do us both a favor and just take it. Go on. It’s okay. If you don’t, I’ll have no choice but to donate it to the Young Republicans Society.”
Herc hesitated a moment. Then a grin stretched across his face. He grabbed the cash and stuffed it into his pocket. I could’ve sworn I saw money signs flash in his eyes.
“You’re alright, Jonesy.”
“You sure about that? I can find at least a dozen people who might disagree.”
Herc chuckled. “So what’s your first move?”
I sipped my drink. “I figure I’ll start with the most obvious suspect.”
“Who’s that?”
“Think about it.” I tapped the side of my head with my index finger. “Of all the people Hephaestus knew, who was he closest to?”
Herc looked at me but did not answer. I could tell from the vacant look in his eyes that the gears weren’t turning.
“Someone he swore to love and cherish forever,” I said.
Herc shrugged.
I sighed. “His wife.”
Herc’s face lit up. “Oh, yeah.” His gaze narrowed. “You think she’s the killer?”
“Probably. I don’t know. It’s too early to say.”
“But you intend to find out.”
“Bingo.”
“Well, good luck with that.”
Good luck was right. Aphrodite was the Goddess of Love, Beauty, and Sexuality. Passion incarnate. An infamous party girl who incited lust in those around her and fed off it like a parasite. I had never met her in person, but I’d heard plenty of rumors. Some good. Some bad. All dirty.
One rumor in particular concerned me more than the others. Supposedly, any mortal who had sex with her would instantly lose his mind and become one of her thralls.
A few years back, a man claiming to be Aphrodite’s boyfriend cut off his own hand and tried to mail it to her. An act of love, he called it. On his way to the post office, the moron passed out from blood loss, and ended up wrapping his car around a telephone pole. He was rushed to the hospital, where surgeons reattached his hand. From there, it was straight to the loony bin.
The incident had caused a media shitstorm. As it turned out, the moron was actually a famous lawyer. What would make a smart, well-to-do man lop off his own hand? Aphrodite and her reps weren’t telling, so the public cooked up their own explanation.
Apparently, Aphrodite’s sex is too good for the average mortal to handle. It causes a sensory overload that reduces our brains to Silly Putty. Whether the theory was true or not, I had no idea. And frankly, I didn’t care. Aphrodite was a Goddess of Olympus. That was reason enough to be careful around her.
“The OBI’s going to interrogate her within the next couple days,” I said. “I’ll wait until they’re done. Then I’ll set up a meeting with her.”
Herc gave a sly grin. “And
pump her
. . . for information?”
“Good one.” I tipped my glass toward him.
“I have my moments.”
I took another swig of my drink. “For now, there’s another lead I’d like to follow. I found a receipt in Hephaestus’s workshop, from an industrial warehouse. He’d been working on some kind of project prior to his death. I want know what that project was.”
“You think it has something to do with the murders?” Herc asked.
“I’m not sure. But it’s all I’ve got at the moment.”
25
Marvin’s Scrap Heap was on the side of the highway between New Olympia and Boreasville, the only noticeable structure for miles. The building was massive. The white exterior and sheet-metal roof glowed in the sunlight. Four tractor-trailers occupied the parking lot. There were no other vehicles around.
I entered through the main entrance.
The cramped reception area smelled vaguely of rubber tires. Various award plaques hung on the walls, and in the corner, four plastic chairs were gathered in front of an old big-screen TV. The screen was coated in dust. Some joker had drawn a smiley face in it.
A squat old man with curly gray hair and thick glasses sat behind the front desk, reading a magazine. His name, Marvin, was stitched onto the pocket of his dark-blue overalls. Through the window behind him, I could see into the warehouse. There were hundreds of huge, wooden crates, all stacked on top of one another.
I’d hate to be stuck inventorying all that
.
When I stepped up to the desk, Marvin put down his magazine and smiled. Most of his teeth were missing. Those that remained were oddly shaped and rotting.
“Welcome to Marvin’s Scrap Heap. Can I help you?” His soft, grandfatherly voice instantly put me in a good mood.
“I hope so. My name is Plato Jones. I’m a private investigator.” I showed him my PI badge. It was one of those nice, professional-grade numbers, similar to the ones cops carry. Not some flimsy, laminated card.
Marvin inclined his head forward, took a good look at it, and then nodded.
I put the badge back in my pocket. “The Smith God, Hephaestus, hired me to look into a robbery that occurred at his home this past weekend.”
Marvin’s brow furrowed. “A robbery, you say?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Who’d be stupid enough to rob a God?”
“I have no idea,” I said. “But with your help I may be able to find out.”
“What can I do for you?”
“I’m compiling a list of Hephaestus’s most recent purchases. I understand he bought some materials from your warehouse not too long ago.”
Marvin nodded. “He did.”
“Do you remember what those materials were?”
“Should be in our records.” Marvin adjusted his glasses and looked up the information on his computer. “Four units of aluminum, four units of copper, six units of platinum, one unit of gold, five of silver, and one of bronze. He said he was working on a series of projects. Top secret stuff.”
It was just as I thought. Hephaestus
had
been working on something. I had no idea what that something was, or how it fit into the murder—if it fit at all—but it gave me another avenue to explore.
“You want a copy of the invoice?” Marvin asked. I was starting to like this guy more and more. Why couldn’t all the people I encountered be so helpful?
“Nah. But thanks anyway.”
“Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“No, that’s it. Thanks for your help.” We shook hands.
“No problem.”
I turned to leave.
When I reached the door, Marvin called after me. “I hope you catch whoever’s responsible.”
“You and me both.”