The Metaphysical Detective (A Riga Hayworth Paranormal Mystery) (28 page)

Hades frowned in response.

Zeus continued, “I thought investigating the murder of Hecate would cause too much discord.  I was wrong.  Who, Riga Hayworth, committed this crime?”

Riga took a deep breath, trying to relax.  Agatha Christie’s detectives never had to worry about the suspects hurling thunderbolts at them.  Riga knew she was right – there was only one logical solution.  But would they believe her? 

“Sir, there were many reasons for those of you here to want Hecate out of the way.  She was Hades ex-wife, and a constant reminder to Persephone of her second place status,” Riga said.

Persephone jerked upright.  “That is an outrageous accusation!”

Hermes chuckled.  “Oh really?  You and Hecate were good friends, were you?  All those times she lurked about the underworld while you were up above with your dear mother – you must have wondered.”

“Wondered about what?” Hades said.

“Hecate spent too much time in the underworld,” Demeter said briskly.  “But that is neither here nor there.  Persephone knew she had no reason to be jealous.”

“Jealous?”  Hades turned to his wife.  “Why would you be jealous?”

Persephone pouted.  “I was not jealous.”

“Darling,” Hades said, “Hecate has been a thorn in my side since my rule began here.  Even the dog prefers her to me!”

“Was she enough of an irritant, sir, to want her dead?” Riga asked. 

“Of course not!”

“In any case,” Riga said, “the three of you have alibis.  And you weren’t the only ones for whom Hecate was an unhappy reminder.  Hecate was also goddess of the moon before Artemis took over.”

Artemis barked out a laugh.  “As if I would kill her for that!”

“No, ma’am, it doesn’t seem likely, does it?” Riga agreed.  “Before Hecate was all of those things, before she became a part of Olympus, she was something else – the great emptiness that came before, nothing, pure potential – and it’s because of that role, she was killed.”

Zeus shifted impatiently.  “It is time, Riga Hayworth, that you got to the point.”

“Yes, sir.  Dionysus searched the old texts carefully to find out what could have held the door open between our worlds.  And the answer was nothing,” Riga said significantly.  “Nothing.  Hecate was a triple goddess, and one of her faces was the new moon – darkness, nothing.  She may have given up her role as queen of the underworld and goddess of the moon, but the nothing that came before was always a part of her.  And that’s why Apollo used the soul splitting blade.  He needed it to take that part of her, and use it to cross into my world and stay there.  I imagine he used Hermes’ kibisus to carry her soul across.  As long as that piece of Hecate stayed on the other side, the door remained open – it was as if her presence on our side held a tunnel open between the worlds.”

Apollo’s eyes narrowed dangerously.  “You accuse me?”

“No, that is not possible.”  Artemis shook her head.  “Apollo was with Hermes and me at the moment Hecate was struck down.”

Riga shook her head.  “No, ma’am.  You were deceived.  Hecate had been struck down well before the three of you heard that crash in her room.” 

Riga reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of knotted filament.  “Zeus and I found this around the leg of one of the chairs that had fallen behind Hecate’s door in the crash.  Next to it were the fragments of a water basin, which had sat upon the table on the far side of her bed.  All of the destruction was near the door but it included objects from the far side of the room.  How did they get there?  Someone – Apollo – killed Hecate, then stacked chairs and vases atop each other.  He ran the filament beneath Hecate’s door and held the end in place beneath the vase on the table outside.  When Hermes, Artemis, and Apollo passed the door, he made sure to stay behind the others, so they wouldn’t see him remove the filament and pull upon it, bringing the chairs and ceramics crashing down.  The filament snapped from the force, and Apollo tucked it away while he went to get Zeus.  But Hecate was already dead.”

Apollo sneered.  “What a fanciful tale.”

Riga plowed on.  “You, Apollo, were the last to see her alive, and you had experience with the soul splitter blade – you assisted Zeus the first time he used it.  Hermes must have been suspicious, because he followed you into my world, leaving a trail of breadcrumbs for me to follow.”  She looked to Hermes.  “Did you overhear more of Apollo and Hecate’s conversation than you admitted, sir?”

 “I was suspicious when I heard Apollo asking Hecate about her model.  When had he ever been interested in that?  And from the questions he was asking, it was clear he really was interested – he’d studied the damnable thing!”

Riga felt the voices from the crevasse tugging at her.  She began to pace again.  “So you followed him, and when he took over – or shared – the body of Aaron Cunningham, you took Herman’s.  You always enjoyed tweaking Apollo.  You stole that piece of Hecate back and hid it somewhere he’d never find it: inside another host, nearly twenty years earlier.  You told me you could time travel, though the others couldn’t.  But why didn’t you just bring it back to Olympus?”

“What would be the fun of that?” Hermes said.  “I liked it on your side, too.  Besides, I enjoyed watching Apollo panic.”

Apollo spluttered.  “This is ridiculous!  You are not going to believe this human?”

“Quiet,” Zeus growled.  “I want to hear what else she has to say.”

“No!” Apollo roared, lunging at Riga.

Zeus gave a signal to Hades and black lightening leapt between them, encircling Apollo and dragging him to the floor.

“Continue, Riga Hayworth,” Zeus said.

Riga eyed Apollo as he struggled with the bands of black light pinioning him to the ground.  Zeus might punish him, but Apollo would find his freedom some day.  He was a sun god and solar archetype – he would rise and fall to rise again.  Archetypes couldn’t die.

“Apollo figured out who you were, Hermes,” Riga said.  “He had the brake lines cut on the car that killed your host, Herman.  Then his alter-ego, Aaron, took advantage of Herman’s death by blaming him for the missing money, money which he’d paid in bribes to a local official.  It made the accounting for it much simpler and he got a nice payoff from the insurance company.  Win win.

“The death of your human host didn’t stop you though.  You came back again, Hermes, this time using Herman’s wife, Helen.  Helen was so like her husband, it must have been an easy transfer.  When Apollo began to suspect, you came to me.  You couldn’t tell me the truth; I never would have believed it.  So you told me a story about Herman back from the dead.  And when Apollo got too close, you left a clue for me on your refrigerator, just in case.  Apollo killed your host, Helen, next.  I suppose in a woman’s body you were no match for him?”

Hermes smiled wryly.

“This time, when you returned to your universe you decided to cause Apollo trouble from here.  You told Hades who Persephone was using as a host.”

“Traitor!” Persephone hissed.

Hermes shrugged.  “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“But why you?” Vinnie burst out.  “Why did Hermes come to you?”

“Because I was the person he put Hecate’s fractured soul into all those years ago.  That’s why the door closed after I entered the underworld, that’s why Cerberus obeys my commands, and that’s why I’ve had Hecate’s model of the universe in my head.  You must have recognized it, Dionysus.  Did you know?”

He hung his head.  “When I saw the diagram on your desk, I thought she was sending me a message, that I was on the right track.  I should have known.  Only a goddess could have resisted my magic as you did.  Your memory lapses occurred when I tried to influence you.  Hecate must have taken over during those periods, because I had no power over you.  I didn’t know she was there.  Why didn’t she tell me?  Why did she hide?”

“I only have part of Hecate.  I’m sure it’s been confusing for her as well.”

Zeus stood.  “You have done as I asked.  Everything you have said rings with truth.  But I cannot honor my promise.”

“What?” Vinnie cried.  “That’s not fair!  You cheat!”

Riga shook her head.  “I can’t go back as long as I’ve got this splinter of Hecate inside me.”

“But Hermes put her in.  Can’t he take her out?” Vinnie protested.

Zeus answered.  “Persephone will release your niece, because I command her to do so.  But whatever remains of Hecate inside you cannot hear me.  Who knows how conscious this thrice fractured soul is?  Even if I could reach her, after twenty years bound together you are knit.  To separate you would irreparably harm you both.”

“And the others?” Riga asked.

Zeus nodded.  “It shall be done.”

Dionysus rose in one fluid motion.  “You will not be alone here, Riga Hayworth.  I shall care for you.”

Riga stepped back.  “Thanks, Dionysus, but that’s not good enough.”  She took another step backward, and dropped silently into the crevasse.

Chapter 43: Hecate

White, cold, silence.  Riga felt the damp seeping from the ground where she lay and into her clothing.  Pale mist swirled around her, obscuring anything beyond her nose.  She pushed herself to a standing position and strained with her eyes to see, her ears to hear. 

Nothing.

Her eyes played tricks on her – shapes moved in the mist and vanished.  She heard a rattling sound like sliding rocks, and whipped her head towards it.  Silence.  Without warning, a terrible howling wind rose up.  She staggered back a step then leaned into it.  The wind divided the mist, parting it like a curtain, and blue sky appeared above her.  She watched as the mist rolled back, exposing rocks, a hillside, water, then orange spires looming out of the fog.

“The Golden Gate?” For a wild moment she dared think she was home. 

The fog ebbed like a tide, sweeping out to sea and revealing more.  The bridge was devoid of cars.  San Francisco was gone.  The bridge led from nowhere to nowhere – no roads, no people.

The wind dropped and all was still.

“Sister,” two voices said from behind her. 

Riga turned to face two women wearing Greek gowns.  They moved toward her and Riga took an involuntary step back.

“Hecate?” Riga asked, wary.

“We knew you would return to us,” they said.  Their dark eyes reflected nothing.  They were the same woman, but different, one soft with middle age and the other graying at the temples.  They placed a hand on each of her shoulders.  “Return to us, sister.”

It felt as if an icicle had been plunged into Riga’s chest.  She fell to her knees and the cold spread outward, wracking her body.  She heard a woman screaming and wished she would stop.  It was terrible to hear.  And then it was over. 

Riga collapsed to the ground, a marionette whose strings had been cut.  She was helpless, paralyzed.  Even her lungs stopped.

Three sets of sandaled feet moved before her eyes.  “Welcome, sister,” two voices said. 

Riga heard a long sigh.  A third woman:  “It has been… a long journey.”

Then the three voices became one.  “Come.  Let us go.”

Riga gasped, drawing in a long breath.

The voices said, “Apollo must be dealt with.”

Riga heard the women move off.

“What a strange dream you have brought to this place, sister,” they said.

The footsteps stopped.  “This is not our dream.”

Riga blinked. 

“What magic is this?” they asked.  “This is the human’s dream.”

She heard them approach.  Three sets of knees lowered to the ground.  A pair of eyes, velvety as night, peered into hers – the young woman Riga had seen dead upon her bed.   The goddess looked away.

“We are whole, yet something has been left behind,” they said.

There was a long silence.  Riga twitched a finger on her right hand. 

The goddess who knelt before her placed a hand on her chest.  “Yet we are whole,” they said.  “We have left a piece behind, and part of the woman is inside us.  We have changed.”

There was another long silence, then, “It is wrong to reject part of oneself.  We accept the transformation.” 

The young goddess touched Riga’s forehead.  “A part of us remains here.”

The other two voices spoke.  “We shall leave her here.  She shall be safe.”

“No,” the youngest said.  She straightened, and Riga was left with a close look at the goddess’s toes.   “We do not wish to remain here.  We wish to go to the other land.”

“So shall it be,” the three said.  “We shall send her back, and close the door behind her.”

The world went dark.

Chapter 44: The Return

Lights, arcing through the darkness.  A dog’s bark.  Pressure on her back.

Men’s voices.  “Over here!  We found her!”

She felt herself being rolled, lifted, the light expanded and then all went dark again.

Riga opened her eyes. 

Fetid air.  Fluorescent lights.  Ceiling tiles.  She was back in hell.

 “Morning, Sunshine!”

Riga focused.  Liz.  Her hair was curled, with chunks of three different shades of red – from fire engine to strawberry blond.  Riga liked it.  “Hi,” she croaked. 

Liz hurried to her with a plastic cup and a straw.  “Have some water.  They said you’d be thirsty.”

Riga leaned forward and took the cup, taking a long drink, then collapsed back on the pillow.  Liz returned the cup to a table beside her bed. 

“Your sister’s taken Pen home,” Liz said.  “She said she’d be back later.”

“Thanks.  New hair?”

Liz fluffed her curls with one hand.  “Like it?  I just got a commission for a new painting – sort of impressionist.  I’m going to do a lake at sunset, lots of reds and oranges.”

“So you dyed your hair to match?”

Liz laughed.  “I hadn’t planned on it, just an update, but that’s a good story to tell my clients.”

“Did everyone get out?” Riga asked.

“You mean that guy, Donovan?  He’s hot!  Where did you find him?  And yes, he got out too.”

“Good.”  Riga closed her eyes and fell asleep.

When she woke up, it was dark outside.  Donovan lay stretched out in a chair beside her bed.  His eyes were closed and he was achingly handsome.  How did that song go?  Riga could only remember the first line – love hurts, scars and mars.  But not necessarily in that order.