The Metaphysical Detective (A Riga Hayworth Paranormal Mystery)

by Kirsten Weiss

  “Not you, Dionysus. Vinnie.”

  “Me? Why me?”

  “Why him?” Dionysus echoed.

  “Because Dionysus can’t.” She spoke to Vinnie but looked at Dionysus. “He was on the scene when the body was discovered and he was involved with Hecate. That makes him a suspect.”

  A muscle jumped in Dionysus’s jaw.

  Vinnie backed away, looking around wildly. “Why would they talk to me? I’m just a ghost!”

  Riga clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re not just a ghost. You’re a warrior and a musician, who was talented enough to win a record contract. Besides, Zeus has told them to cooperate. Stay respectful but feel free to remind them of it if they give you any trouble.”

  The door swung inward to reveal a scowling Hades. “Zeus requested I speak with you about Hecate.”

  “With Vinnie, sir,” Riga corrected. She gave Vinnie a pen and notepad.

  Hades entered, eyes darting around the room, suspicious.

  Vinnie nervously tapped the pen on the notebook. “Who are you interviewing?”

  She looked at Dionysus. “May I start with you?”

  He strode to the door, and sketched a sarcastic bow. “Shall we go to my chambers? They are more private.”

  She followed him to his rooms. Thick carpets lay scattered upon the floors and a fire burned in a tile chimney. Two wide chairs sat angled before it. Dionysus threw himself into one of them and Riga lowered herself more cautiously into the other, shifting the cushion behind her back and setting her bag down beside her. The flames didn’t throw out any heat, she noticed.

  “Why have you set me aside?” he demanded.

  “You know why. Now why don’t you tell me the truth about your relationship with Hecate and why you latched onto me?”

  Firelight flickered off his granite features. “You cannot seriously consider me a suspect.”

  “I consider you a liar.”

  He leapt to his feet, his face a glowering mask of rage. The flames exploded in the fireplace. “You dare!”

  Riga felt a wave of energy wash over her. She kept her voice steady. “Wow. The god of alcoholics is angry at me. Does this mean we’re not friends anymore?”

  A long silence stretched between them and then, abruptly, he lowered himself into his chair and laughed. “You are so like her.”

  “Like Hecate?”

  “You said you wanted to learn more about her. She was ancient, you know. She was here before the Olympians and I always assumed she would be here long after we were gone. When Hades displaced her as ruler of the dead and banished Hecate from her underworld palace, she just continued on. When Artemis took her place as goddess of the moon, she let it go. Hecate took the long view. Finally, she was left with but one aspect to rule – magic. The other gods laughed, claimed her debased. But she was magic, Riga Hayworth, and deep in their hearts they feared her for it.”

  He leaned forward, bracing his elbows upon his knees. “Of course I loved her, each of her faces – maiden, mother, and elder. She was the greatest mystery on Olympus and a beautiful woman. Hecate was the great nothingness that came before, and when our world came into being she changed to fit it. But a piece of that nothingness remained in her. She was the new moon, the full moon, and all its phases in between – the triple goddess.”

  “Why was she at Olympus that day?” Riga asked.

  His voice was bitter. “Where else could she go? After her palace beneath had been taken, she spent more and more time here.”

  Some option: to wander, dispossessed in hell or be stuck with a bunch of petty gods on Olympus. The choice to Riga was obvious, but Hecate hadn’t had a choice.

  “What happened when you arrived?”

  “I heard shouting. When I arrived at Hecate’s chamber, Zeus had just entered. The others were in the doorway, gaping like fools. I pushed past them and saw her. Zeus ejected me from the room, and sealed it.”

  “And afterward?”

  “The accusations flew. Apollo accused me of killing her in a lover’s quarrel. Persephone was hysterical and accused Hermes, though the murder of a goddess is beyond even his tricks. Zeus became enraged and banished us all from Olympus. It was probably a wise decision.” He looked at her, his face bleak. “Why would someone kill her?”

  “I don’t know why, but I do know how.” She reached into her pocket and pulled from it the piece of filament, so thin it was nearly invisible. “I found this around the leg of the chair that had fallen behind the door.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “That’s because you haven’t read every book ever written by Agatha Christie, which is, I might add a serious oversight for the god of mystery.” She returned the filament to her pocket. “You’ve been working on this case for a long time, Dionysus. You thought there might be a connection between her death and the opening of the door between our worlds. How? What could possibly have opened it?”

  “Nothing. I have searched through our oldest records. Just as your world has laws, so does ours, and there are laws that rule the in between, as well. They are explicit – though the worlds may brush against each other, nothing can hold the door open. Nothing.”

  Chapter 40: The Trickster

  Dionysus stopped Riga outside the blue painted door to Artemis’s chambers. “I will wait here,” he said. “If anything happens, call me.” His hand brushed lightly against hers. His eyes darkened and he tightened his grip.

  “I’m not her,” she reminded him.

  He released her and stepped back. “Yes. I know.”

  Riga rapped on the door; it flew open beneath her raised fist. Blinding, golden light leapt out at her and Riga flinched away. Through her lowered eyelashes, she could see the silhouette of a man surrounded by a halo – Apollo, she presumed.

  “Good afternoon, sir,” she said. “Zeus commanded me to speak with you.” She had no qualms laying the blame at Zeus’s feet.

  The light faded. Apollo’s pale blue eyes traveled from her boots to the top of her head. “It is the human,” he said to someone in the room behind him. He glanced at Dionysus. “And the traitor.”

  “Don’t be boring,” a man’s voice drawled from inside the room. “You’d better let them in.”

  When Apollo made no sign of moving, Dionysus said, “Do not fear, brother. Zeus commanded you speak with Riga Hayworth, not with me.”

  Apollo sneered. “How that must pain you, after all your efforts on our father’s behalf.” He stepped aside.

  Riga sidled past him into the room and heard the door slam shut behind her. She looked around. Antlers and animal heads lined the walls and were mounted above the empty fireplace, interspersed with bows, spears, and other weapons of the hunt. For the goddess of animals, Artemis had certainly killed a lot of them. The room was otherwise Spartan – the floor was bare and plain white cushions lay upon the chairs. A cool breeze blew in from the balcony, where a woman – Artemis – stood, her back to the others. She had the lean muscle tone of a dancer. Her toga was short, like a man’s, but glinted at the edges with delicate embroidery.

  A second golden haired man lounged upon a divan, twirling an olive branch in one hand. Wings fluttered ineffectually at the heels of his golden sandals. Hermes. He looked at Riga with interest. Abruptly he said, “So what do you think of Olympus, Riga Hayworth?”

  The place was a beautiful mausoleum. “It is extraordinary, sir,” she said.

  Hermes’ eyes twinkled. He was handsome in today’s fashion, with an androgynous look about him. “If you can’t think of anything nice to say, speak in bland generalities. I told you, Artemis, this place has become a cliché.”

  Artemis turned to face them. Curly chestnut-colored hair tumbled loosely atop her head. Beneath it, her silvery eyes glinted. “For once, hold your chattering tongue, Hermes.” She looked at Riga. “Our father has commanded we speak with you and so we shall. Dionysus was right – by allowing the murder to stand, suspicion has festered between us. We must learn who is responsi
ble.”

  Apollo brushed past Riga, jostling her, and flung himself into a chair beside the fireplace. Moodily, he stared at the empty grate. “I shall cooperate as well, though under protest.”

  Hermes slung his legs from the divan and braced his feet upon the floor. “What does Hecate’s death matter? Even the gods must pass some day and the old witch was long past her time.”

  Riga pulled her notebook from her bag. “Would anyone object if I took notes?”

  “If you must,” Artemis said.

  “Thank you, ma’am. When was the last time you saw Hecate alive?”

  Artemis shrugged. “I was out most of the day, hunting. I didn’t see her at all. I had just returned and prepared to dine, when I encountered Apollo and Hermes in the corridor. Together we walked toward the Great Hall. When we passed Hecate’s chambers, we heard a great crash. We pounded on the door, but there was no response.”

  “Would you tell me more about that?” Riga said. “What were you doing when you heard the noise, ma’am? Where exactly were you in regards to each other?”

  A flicker of irritation crossed the face of the goddess. “Quite close. Hermes and I were speaking – he’d lost the kibisus.”

  “Not lost,” Hermes said crossly, “it was stolen. I still haven’t found the damned thing.”

  “Then you should not have left it lying about,” Artemis said.

  Riga raised her hand. “Excuse me, what’s a kibisus?”

  Artemis rolled her eyes. “The magical satchel Perseus used to safely bring the head of the Gorgon to Athena.”

  Hermes sat up, indignant. “Do you have any idea what I had to go through to get it?”

  “Yes,” Artemis said dryly. “You told Perseus where to find it, and he brought it to you.”

  He grinned. “Do you have any idea what I had to go through to find out where the bag was?”

  As they bickered, Riga wished she had not become immune to their influence – it was too easy to imagine them as a normal family. But Brigitte was right; they were dangerous.

  Artemis ended the argument. “At any rate, Hermes was bleating to me about his magic bag and Apollo skulked behind us.”

  Riga stopped doodling in her notebook and raised her head. “Skulked?”

  “I had no intention of being inflicted with Hermes’ prattle,” Apollo snapped.

  Hermes crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back upon the divan. “Now you’re just being mean.”

  “I see.” Riga turned to Hermes. “Sir, when was the last time you saw Hecate alive?”

  Hermes stretched his legs before him, admiring his tanned limbs. “I suppose you were the last of us to see the old girl alive, Apollo. I passed you in the library together an hour or so before dinner. What were you talking about? You looked as thick as thieves.”

  “You would know about thieves,” Apollo snapped.

  “Oh,” Hermes drawled, “you’re not still angry about those cows, are you? Let it go.”

  Artemis intervened. “Enough, brothers!”

  Riga looked at Apollo. “I would be interested to know what you and Hecate were discussing, sir.”

  “How should I remember? She was probably droning on about her model of the universe again – imaginary time, dimensional contacts, the five elements, we’d all heard it before.” He drummed his fingers on the chair.

  Artemis laughed, a harsh sound. “She needed a new hobby.”

  They were describing Riga’s model. The fifth element – of course. That was what caused the dimensions to brush against each other. She’d been blind. Riga looked down at her blank page, giving herself time to think, hoping they hadn’t noticed her reaction. “Imaginary time?” she said. “What’s that?”

  Hermes shrugged dismissively. “Any time you’re not in is imaginary time.”

  “And can one travel between different points in time?” Riga asked.

  His lips curved in a lopsided smile. “I can. However, my brother and sister are bound by the movements of the celestial bodies they rule, ever forward.”

  While Riga ran in circles. “Thank you, sir, for explaining that to me. I think I understand.”

  “I thought you would.”

  Artemis gave a cry and in a swift motion removed a bow and quiver from a hook upon the wall. “A harpy! Here!”

  Hermes leaned his head back in exasperation. “You’re seeing things, darling.”

  Artemis ignored him, striding to the balcony. The others followed. She nocked an arrow to her bow string. “There! See it?”

  A black speck fluttered over the sea – Brigitte, just where Riga had told her to be. Her heart lurched. “No, ma’am, please wait. That’s not a harpy.”

  Artemis drew back her bow.

  Riga grabbed her arm and shoved it aside. “No!”

  Riga felt a shattering pain in her head, along her spine. She couldn’t breathe. Light blinded her. She was dying.

  Then she was sucking in great gulps of air, cool marble against her cheek. “Brigitte,” she gasped. Black dots swam before her eyes. “That’s not a harpy. She’s a gargoyle. She’s with me.”

  Hands grasped her roughly by her forearms, hauling her to her feet. “Are you harmed? Where did he hurt you?”

  Donovan/Not Donovan’s face swam into view. More people and objects resolved themselves. Artemis, arrow still nocked but aimed at the floor, staring curiously. Apollo, raising himself from the ground and rubbing his cheek. Hermes, leaning against the balustrade, amusement lighting his eyes.

  “Don’t let them shoot the harpy,” Riga gasped. “Please. She’s not a harpy. Brigitte is a gargoyle.”

  Apollo flung a table aside. “She laid hands on the goddess. The human must die for this.”

  Dionysus turned, keeping Riga behind him. “There has been enough killing on Olympus. Zeus commands her to complete her task. You shall not interfere.”

  Apollo closed the gap between the two. “Zeus shall hear of this. You know as well as I what his judgment shall be.”

  Artemis raised one hand. “Wait, brother. I wish to know more of this creature. What is a gargoyle?”

  “A stone statue carved upon monuments,” Riga said. “Many of them were used as waterspouts, and they were carved in monstrous forms – I can’t remember why. This gargoyle, Brigitte, was brought to life by a magician many centuries ago, and became my companion. When I came here, she followed.”

  Artemis drew her brows together. “And you protect this creature?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Zeus is aware of her presence,” she added.

  Artemis removed the arrow from the bow string. “You protect those weaker than you and you have courage. I will pardon your actions today. But know this, if you touch me again, I shall feed you to my hounds, and even Zeus will not object.”

  Chapter 41: Goodbyes

  “Take Artemis’s threat seriously,” Dionysus said when they had returned to Riga’s room.

  She threw herself upon the divan and stared at the ceiling. “I take all of them seriously.” She glanced at him. “Even you.”

  He took a step toward her, hand outstretched. “Riga Hayworth, I—“

  She interrupted him. “I think I can get her back.”

  His expression shifted – shock, disbelief, hope. “What? How?”

  The door slammed open and Vinnie scuttled inside, shutting and bolting it behind him. He leaned against it, panting. “That was horrible. I’m dead and they scare the hell out of me. It was worse than the Pacific – the Japs may have wanted us dead, but they were fighting for their lives, too. These guys just don’t care. You gotta get me outta here, Riga. Hades is not going to make things nice for me if I’m stuck in his underworld.”

  “We’re all getting out, Vinnie,” Riga lied. One of them would be staying behind. “What did you find out?”

  He hurried to the divan and sat on the edge, flipping through his notebook. “All of them had a reason for wanting to off Hecate, but I don’t see how any of them could have done it. Sore winner
s, that’s what they are. Did you know that Hecate was Hades’ ex? Wife number two – that Persephone dame that’s got your niece – she wasn’t too happy to have Hecate hanging around. Insecure with feelings of inadequacy, as Dr. Phil would say.”

  Riga only had a moment to marvel at the ghost’s knowledge of daytime TV before he continued.

  “And Hades – hoo boy. He may be lord of the underworld now, but Hecate ran the place long before he turned up. Apparently, the troops down below are still loyal to her and Hades knows it.”

  Riga’s heart sank, her suspicions confirmed. “What about Demeter?”

  “She felt Hecate wasn’t doing anything good for her daughter’s marriage – not that she’s a fan of Hades, but Persephone seems to like him, so mom’s protective. I’ve got to say, I never thought I’d feel sorry for Hades, but I wouldn’t want that one as a mother-in-law. Anyway, to make a short story long, the three were together all day (poor bastard), and the last time any of them saw Hecate was when they passed her walking in the garden with Zeus. Unless they all killed her, which ain’t outside the realm of possibility, they’ve got alibis.”

  “Enough!” Dionysus said. His face was taut with anxiety. “You said you could get her back, Riga Hayworth. How?”

  “I said I might be able to but I can’t tell you now.” She looked at him steadily. “Please, Dionysus, as god of mystery, allow me this one for just a little longer.”

  “Do not ask this of me, Riga Hayworth.”

  Pain burned in his eyes, pain which Riga had renewed. But she needed his help, and he had to play true to his archetype as well. He was the god of mystery, not solutions, and he couldn’t force Riga to pull back the veil. “There may be more magic in Hecate than even you can imagine,” she said. “I need you to convince Zeus to assemble all of the Olympians who were here when Hecate was attacked, in the throne room of Hades’ palace.”

  Dionysus paced, his hands clenching and unclenching. “Hades will not like it. He guards his realm jealously.”

  “The proof of who committed this crime is there,” Riga said, tracking him with her eyes. “The only way to clear this up, to end the discord here, is for everyone to see and understand what happened with their own eyes. We have to go there. It’s also the only chance we have to restore Hecate.”