'Alexander Smith.' Jay read out from the bloody card. 'Born in 1971 and now dead in 2018.'
It was hanging on what window washers would stand on, the head and arm just off of the platform. Blood was falling in cups of blood at a time down his arm. The window several feet above him was where the blood started and down until it reached where his body lay. 'There's a single shot in his heart,' Theresa said, crouching down on the platform to get a better look at him. 'And then there's one in his foot. Either there was a missed shot, or this guy was tortured. But why?'
'How do you know this stuff?' Odie asked.
'All those movies as a crime scene investigator had to have come in handy some day.' Theresa replied absent-mindedly.
'Maybe someone wanted a job done, and this guy wasn't quick enough.' Jay said. 'He was shot in the foot to make him go faster and either he did the job as planned and his murderer had no other need for him or the guy just didn't do the job.'
'But what was the job?' Atlanta wondered aloud.
'I'm guessing that by this guy's designer suit that he is pretty important.' Neil said, gesturing to his suit.
'Who is he?' Herry asked.
Jay took out a pair or white latex gloves and searched for an ID card and finally found one, with an onyx bullet hole going through the middle.
'Alexander Smith.' Jay read out from the bloody card. 'Born in 1971 and now dead in 2018.'
'So that means that he was 47,' Odie said sickly. 'He was 47 when he died, or was murdered.'
'But you see how his arm is slightly blue?' Jay said, putting the ID card into his pocket and observing the body. 'And you see the amount of blood that has already fallen? That means that this body has been here for several hours.'
'Can you be more specific?' Archie asked, frowning.
'I'd say since last night.' Jay responded.
'There are a lot of 'Alexander Smith's out there,' Neil said, finally somewhat interested. 'Which one is he?'
Theresa's gaze instinctively moved over to Jay, his brows furrowed and his chocolate eyes darting around the body. Her eyes drifted downwards, and eventually were lead to his jeans pocket as it began to vibrate.
'Jay,' Theresa said. 'Your pocket is vibrating.'
He reached for his cell phone and flipped it up.
'Hello?' Jay answered, standing up.
Theresa could barely hear the muffled voices on the other ear, but managed to hear a few frequently used words such as 'Smith', 'murdered' and 'millionaire'.
'Yah,' Jay finished. 'Okay. Yah, talk to you later. That was someone from my department. Apparently, there has been a missing persons notice filed for an Alexander Smith. He is, or was, a millionaire; all of the money has been taken out of his account and put into cash. There's no way of tracking who has the money now.'
'Well we could look around this place like we were supposed to.' Neil suggested, pulling out a nail file from his back pocket and completely losing interest in his current surroundings.
'I think we've found all that we need for now.' Theresa said as she stood up and rested her hands on her hips. 'We are calling the police, right?'
'The police can't handle this situation,' Jay said simply. 'But the FBI can. That is why I'm calling for back-up.'
'Back-up?' Herry asked rudely. 'We don't need back-up! We are doing just fine without their help.'
'Yah, but we don't have a crime scene lab.' Jay responded, dialing the FBI's phone number.
'Actually...'Odie said slowly. 'There may be a way.'
'I cannot believe that you have a laboratory here!' Archie exclaimed as he put on a white lab coat and goggles.
'I got a house here, since I loved New Olympia so much, I decided to settle down for a while and live here with Calypso. But we moved to Washington D.C. to be closer to work and I got my own laboratory there too.'
'So you got a house here, renovated a secret wing of it to become a lab, and then kept the house after you left?' Herry asked.
'Yah.' Odie replied as he pulled some beakers out of the cupboards and turned on the lights. It was the size of a full-on bedroom, enough for 5 king-sized beds and a good space for a good workout. There was a white table in the centre of the room with bright lights shining down upon it. There was a TV screen staring down on a computer looking at the table.
'Herry,' Odie instructed. 'Set the body down on the table so we can examine it.'
'Have I mentioned that I have a bacteriophobia?' Herry said as he threw the body down onto the table, pleased to be rid of it.
'It's in a bag, Herry,' Archie said. 'There's nothing to worry about.'
'Now if we can only extract the two bullets to see if they match.' Jay said, taking the tweezers Odie handed him and pulled off the man's shirt to reveal the bullet hole. He slowly picked it out of his chest and put it onto a white tray. Jay then removed the man's shoe and sock and picked out the bullet, put it onto the tray with the other bullet and walked over to the computer. 'See here?' Jay said, pointing to the screen that showed the body and the two bullets. 'The two bullets match which means that they were most likely shot on the same night and by the same gun, the night that Alexander Smith was killed.'
'So he was probably shot by the same guy?' Theresa asked.
'Maybe,' Jay responded. 'But I can't tell for sure.'
'Jay,' Atlanta said, peering over at Alexander's neck. 'What is that? The skins colour seems a bit blue. Was the guy strangled or something?'
'Good job Atlanta,' Jay responded. 'So you can see that the colour here is slightly distorted. That means that someone or something was holding him up by the neck and most likely threatening him to kill him.'
'I guess it wasn't a threat in the end.' Archie said seriously.
'Are there any fingerprints on the body?' Theresa asked Jay.
'It is almost impossible to find fingerprints on a human body,' Jay said. 'But maybe there is something on the neck. Odie, can you maximize that part of the body on the screen?'
'You got it.' Odie replied.
But something caught Jay's eyes on the screen; a tattoo on his neck just above his Adams apple. It was ÃŠÃ±Ã¼ÃÃ¯Ã².
'Odie,' Jay said. 'What is that? Greek?'
'I think so,' Odie said. 'I have studied Greek writing, and I remember seeing something like this in several stories and myths.'
'It says Cronos!' Archie exclaimed. 'I taught my students Greek writing, this says Cronos.'
'So either this man was a tyrant and found himself socially similar to Cronos, or Cronos has something to do with this.' Atlanta said thoughtfully.
'As usual.' Herry rolled his eyes.
'We need to contact Hera.' Jay said.
'Well I must say that this is highly unusual,' Hera said as she examined the body on the screen of Odie's PMR that Odie connected to the screen at his lab. 'I have never seen a murder mystery in real life.'
'We didn't believe it at first either,' Atlanta said, shaking her head. 'But it is happening and right now, since Cronos hasn't made any real trouble then I guess that we should try to figure this mystery out.'
'I would have to agree with you there.' Hera said, unsurely.
'When we hear of anything, we'll contact you.' Jay told the goddess as he and the others prepared to leave.
'But before you go,' Hera said, handing Neil a key. 'We need to be able to reach all of you at the same time, so you will be staying at the Brownstone again. Your things have been brought there already. Stay close to the school and the dormitory, is that understood?'
'Yes Ms. Hera.' Odie said as he and the others left.
'I can't save the world now!' Neil said, clearly freaked out in Theresa's new BMW leaving the school. He was in the back seat, Theresa driving and Jay in the front seat. 'I mean, I have an actual career! That I want to keep! I have a girlfriend that is really, really hot, I am really, really, really, REALLY HOT!!!! SIZZLING!!!!! Do you know what I would do if anything damaged this face?'
'Oh the horror.' Theresa said sarcastically.
'Neil,' Jay turned around in his seat to face an obviously paranoid Neil. 'You don't have a choice if you want to save the world or not. It is your duty.'
'And thank you Steven King.' Theresa said as she pulled into the driveway of the Brownstone. 'Welcome home, guys.'
The Brownstone was exactly the same, the same kitchen (although the refrigerator was empty which never would have happened if Herry was still living in the house), the same living room, the same bathroom and the same arrangement of rooms. Luckily for Theresa and Jay, their rooms were across the hall from each other.
'I am going to do some redecorating,' Archie said, putting his arm over his wife. 'So Herry, would you please smash the wall in between Atlanta's room and mine. We are married after all.'
'Theresa, can I talk to you for a minute?' Atlanta said, her lip quivering, pulling Theresa into her room.
'Sure Atlanta.' Theresa followed her into the room and they sat on her bed as Atlanta shut and locked the door. 'What's wrong?'
Atlanta sniffled and Theresa heard a sob escape her friends' lips.
'Atlanta, honey what's wrong?'
Atlanta turned to face Theresa and she was pulled into a hug.
'What do I do about my kids?' Atlanta said, reluctantly standing up from the hug. 'What if I die on a mission or something? I can't let my kids go on without me at 7! They are at my mom and dad's house for now, but for how long? God I hate this!' Atlanta went into a fit of sobbing on the bed, Theresa's slender hand rubbing her back all the while. A knock sounded at the door and Archie's voice was muffled through the wood in a very concerned tone asking the girls what the matter was.
'Well I should get going; I have to wash my face. Thanks Theresa, just for listening. No matter what the tabloids say, or what happened before, you are a good friend, Theresa.'
Theresa frowned. What do the tabloids say, exactly? Maybe Neil would know. And why wouldn't I be a good friend because of what happened before? But Theresa dared not ask, for Atlanta was too distressed to face Theresa's problems, let alone her own.