think so.” She flipped through her scribblings. “Point of fact. Venus claims not to have noticed any medication on Jupiter’s nightstand. She said she was taken away and didn’t have time to absorb her surroundings…”
“And that would jibe perfectly with my theory,” Oliver said. “Pluto pushes her away before she can call the paramedics. Then he places the empty Valium vial in the room to make it look like a suicide.”
Decker said, “If someone wanted to fake a suicide, don’t you think the vial would have been placed in the room before Venus arrived?”
“Maybe Pluto was about to do it, but was interrupted by Venus’s sudden appearance.” Oliver rocked on his feet. “Loo, what makes the whole thing suspicious is that the body was fresh. Coronor places the time of death within two hours of the discovery. Rigor mortis hadn’t set in.”
“Most common time of death is in the early morning,” Marge said.
“But we’re not thinking death by natural cause, Margie.”
Decker said, “Maybe it took Jupiter all night to summon up the nerve to do himself in. First, he drank the vodka to lower his inhibitions. Next he finished himself off with the pills.” He ran his hand through thick tufts of hair. “Or maybe Jupiter was a lush and a pill popper, and this was a simple accidental overdose.”
Oliver looked dubious. “He downed a fifth of vodka.”
“We’ve all known alkies who drink that much for breakfast.”
“Venus said he didn’t drink or take pills,” Marge stated.
“According to her.” Decker stuffed his hands in his pocket. “We’ve got a suspicious death—three options. Accidental OD, suicide or homicide. We may never be able to distinguish between accidental OD or a suicide. But that’s not that important for us. The only thing that gets us involved is a homicide. So the question is this: Can you force someone to chugalug a fifth of vodka and/or down a bottle’s worth of Valium?”
Oliver said, “If the guy was a secret drinker, someone could have dissolved the pills in the booze.”
“Valium’s insoluble in water,” Decker said.
“Then maybe someone ground the pills up in his food.”
“Valium has a bitter taste—”
“So Pluto injected it into Ganz’s veins,” Oliver tried again. “In case you’ve forgotten, the body had fresh needle marks.”
“Venus said Jupiter often injected himself with vitamins,” Marge commented.
“Injected himself?” Decker asked. “He had IM needle marks on his butt.”
“Sometimes she’d do it,” Marge said.
“How convenient ,” Oliver mocked. “The logical assumption is that someone stabbed him with an IV needle, telling Jupiter that it was his vitamins. Meanwhile guy’s being shot up with a lethal dose of Valium.”
“The drug burns like hell when you inject it,” Decker said. “Jupiter was a scientist. He would have known immediately that he wasn’t being shot up with vitamins.”
“But by that time, it would have been too late—”
Decker said, “I don’t like it. Too many ‘ifs.’”
“So maybe Jupiter was dead drunk when he was dosed up with Valium,” Oliver retorted. “Maybe he had already been knocked out with the vodka.”
“You’re saying Ganz drank himself comatose, then someone finished him off with the Valium?”
“Why not?” Oliver asked.
“For one thing, it’s messy.” Decker paused. “You’re saying that someone went to all this trouble just to take over as leader of the Order.”
“Loo, you met that twerp, Pluto. He lusts for control.”
Decker said, “So you not only have a theory, you have a prime suspect.”
“Pluto had the means, the motive and the opportunity. He was Jupiter’s privileged attendant.”
“He was one of four privileged attendants,” Decker said.
“But the first one on the scene after Venus, and he’sthe only one who’s come forward as the leader. He needs to dominate . I’m telling you, there’s something off with that guy.”
“Scott,
“And that would jibe perfectly with my theory,” Oliver said. “Pluto pushes her away before she can call the paramedics. Then he places the empty Valium vial in the room to make it look like a suicide.”
Decker said, “If someone wanted to fake a suicide, don’t you think the vial would have been placed in the room before Venus arrived?”
“Maybe Pluto was about to do it, but was interrupted by Venus’s sudden appearance.” Oliver rocked on his feet. “Loo, what makes the whole thing suspicious is that the body was fresh. Coronor places the time of death within two hours of the discovery. Rigor mortis hadn’t set in.”
“Most common time of death is in the early morning,” Marge said.
“But we’re not thinking death by natural cause, Margie.”
Decker said, “Maybe it took Jupiter all night to summon up the nerve to do himself in. First, he drank the vodka to lower his inhibitions. Next he finished himself off with the pills.” He ran his hand through thick tufts of hair. “Or maybe Jupiter was a lush and a pill popper, and this was a simple accidental overdose.”
Oliver looked dubious. “He downed a fifth of vodka.”
“We’ve all known alkies who drink that much for breakfast.”
“Venus said he didn’t drink or take pills,” Marge stated.
“According to her.” Decker stuffed his hands in his pocket. “We’ve got a suspicious death—three options. Accidental OD, suicide or homicide. We may never be able to distinguish between accidental OD or a suicide. But that’s not that important for us. The only thing that gets us involved is a homicide. So the question is this: Can you force someone to chugalug a fifth of vodka and/or down a bottle’s worth of Valium?”
Oliver said, “If the guy was a secret drinker, someone could have dissolved the pills in the booze.”
“Valium’s insoluble in water,” Decker said.
“Then maybe someone ground the pills up in his food.”
“Valium has a bitter taste—”
“So Pluto injected it into Ganz’s veins,” Oliver tried again. “In case you’ve forgotten, the body had fresh needle marks.”
“Venus said Jupiter often injected himself with vitamins,” Marge commented.
“Injected himself?” Decker asked. “He had IM needle marks on his butt.”
“Sometimes she’d do it,” Marge said.
“How convenient ,” Oliver mocked. “The logical assumption is that someone stabbed him with an IV needle, telling Jupiter that it was his vitamins. Meanwhile guy’s being shot up with a lethal dose of Valium.”
“The drug burns like hell when you inject it,” Decker said. “Jupiter was a scientist. He would have known immediately that he wasn’t being shot up with vitamins.”
“But by that time, it would have been too late—”
Decker said, “I don’t like it. Too many ‘ifs.’”
“So maybe Jupiter was dead drunk when he was dosed up with Valium,” Oliver retorted. “Maybe he had already been knocked out with the vodka.”
“You’re saying Ganz drank himself comatose, then someone finished him off with the Valium?”
“Why not?” Oliver asked.
“For one thing, it’s messy.” Decker paused. “You’re saying that someone went to all this trouble just to take over as leader of the Order.”
“Loo, you met that twerp, Pluto. He lusts for control.”
Decker said, “So you not only have a theory, you have a prime suspect.”
“Pluto had the means, the motive and the opportunity. He was Jupiter’s privileged attendant.”
“He was one of four privileged attendants,” Decker said.
“But the first one on the scene after Venus, and he’sthe only one who’s come forward as the leader. He needs to dominate . I’m telling you, there’s something off with that guy.”
“Scott,
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