back down in his chair. He went back to frowning over news copy.
JACK TOOK ME home, where I was greeted with loud yowls of welcome by Wild Bill Cody, my twenty pound gray tomcat. I managed to feed Cody, fix a sandwich, and take off my shoes by myself — all much easier to do with the new splint. Frank called and said he’d be late, then asked if he should call Lydia and ask her to come over and help me out. I told him not to bother, bragged on my accomplishments, and told him I had a letter from a lunatic to show him.
We said good-bye, and I settled in to watch a Kings hockey game. Frank still wasn’t home when it ended in a tie. I was able to get undressed by myself, although my shoulder protested now and again. I was too happy about being so self-sufficient to care.
I crawled under the covers and fell asleep listening to Cody purr. I half-woke when Frank came into bed, just enough to give him a kiss and curl up next to him. His skin was chilled, but I fell back to sleep as he warmed beneath me.
I was having a dream about a giant with one hundred eyes when the phone rang.
3
FRANK REACHED OVER and answered “Harriman” while I tried to focus on the alarm clock. Five in the morning.
“The zoo?” he said, then paused to listen, taking notes. “Okay, I’m on my way.”
“The zoo? What’s going on at the zoo?” I asked sleepily.
“Someone found a body there. Woman had her skull bashed in. Somebody tossed her into the peacock enclosure.”
“Peacocks?” I was suddenly fully awake.
His back was to me as he started to get dressed. “Yes, peacocks. God knows why.”
“Argus.”
“What?”
“I think someone tried to tell me this was going to happen.”
He turned around, stared at me.
“I’m not certain about it, Frank. But let me show you that letter before you go.”
I got up and fished it out of my purse. He read it and then listened as I gave him a quick rundown on the mythology references.
He ran a hand through his hair. “So you think whoever sent this was telling you that someone was going to die in front of the peacocks at the Las Piernas Zoo today?”
“Like I said, I don’t know what to think. But this is too much of a coincidence to just dismiss it.”
“I agree. Thanks, I’ll take this with me. I don’t suppose you saved the envelope?”
“Sorry. It was a light blue one, with a computer label and no return address. I didn’t pay attention to the postmark. I might be able to dig it out of the recycling bin at work.”
“I’ve got to get going, but I’ll probably need to talk to you more about this later. Okay if you get into work late?”
“I’ll see if Lydia can give me a ride if you’re held up. But I’ll either be here or at the paper.”
He kissed me good-bye and headed out the door.
I was wide awake by then and couldn’t get back to sleep. I waited until 6:30, then gave Lydia a call. She agreed to come by and pick me up. I figured that even if Frank got back sometime that morning, he’d want to get some sleep — although the first hours are the most important ones on a homicide case, so I doubted he would be back home until much later.
At work, things were humming. Mark Baker was out on the story at the zoo. John Walters saw me limp in and waved me over to his office.
“You hear about the body at the zoo?” he asked.
“A little. Frank was called out on it early this morning. I didn’t learn much from him before he left, but he said something about the peacock enclosure. He said he might need to talk to me more about the letter.”
John looked disgruntled, and I figured I knew what was eating at him. I used to cover crime stories, but getting together with Frank put me beyond the pale as far as the
As I watched John brooding at his desk, I wondered how they were going to keep me out of this one. Then I told myself not to jump to conclusions. The letter might not have anything to do with what happened at the zoo.
“Let me tell you what we know,” he said after a moment. “The victim is Dr. Edna Blaylock, a professor of history at Las Piernas College. Current theory is that she was killed elsewhere, then the killer or killers took her body to the zoo. Death was apparently from a number of crushing blows to her skull.”
“Clio, the history Muse,” I said softly, unable to deny the connection now.
John picked up his copy of the letter and read it over. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. He calls you Cassandra, who is the woman who foretold things accurately, but whom no one would believe. He tells you that you will always be the first one to know, and calls you his beloved.”
I felt a knot forming in the pit of my stomach. John went on.
“He calls himself Thanatos, or Death. He says the first murder will take place on a Thursday. The weapon is a hammer. He writes that the eyes of Argus, which are in a peacock’s tail, ‘will be upon her.’ He tells us Clio, the
