Dear Irene

The issue was decided for me when Frank came in the front door.

“What a day,” he said. “Okay if I go for a run before di

Not wanting to fall into either category, I told him di

On Tuesday, Kevin called to say he had searched his files but hadn’t found anyone that he could co

I pestered Mark Baker into giving me the phone numbers for the professor’s old boyfriends. The one I most wanted to talk to was a man by the name of Steven Kincaid, who appeared to be Dr. Blaylock’s most recent conquest. But Kincaid was either out or didn’t answer his phone. That was further than I got with four of the remaining five, who had disco

“A few more minutes and you would have missed me,” he said in a pleasant voice. “Does the paper want to interview me again?”

“I just had a few more questions,” I said. “Could we meet somewhere?”

“Gee, no, I’m sorry, that’s what I was trying to say. The semester’s over. My girlfriend will be here any minute now. We’re going to be flying back to Michigan, to her parents’ house. I’m going to pop the question at Christmas.”

“Pop the question?”

“You know, ask her to marry me.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Taylor, if I sound a little confused. It’s just that your name has been associated with-”

“Edna, yeah, I know. Really sad. Oh, you mean, is Co

“Years ago?”

“Yeah. Edna and I had a brief little fling about two years ago. My senior year, before I started the MBA program.”

“You’re not a history major?”

“Hell no. History major? No money in it. All undergraduates have to take a semester of U.S. history. I took a history class from Edna to satisfy the bachelor’s degree requirements. I was expecting to be totally bored, but she made it interesting. And something about the lady attracted me, I guess, but nothing came of it then. I was seeing somebody else. But then I broke up with that girl, and the next semester, I saw Edna in a local club one night… and I don’t know, I guess we just decided to go for it.”

“How old were you then?”

“Twenty-six.” He paused then added, “I work and go to school, so it’s taking me a little longer.”

He sounded embarrassed about it, so I told him I had taken more than four years, and not just because I worked. “But listen – about Dr. Blaylock – can you tell me if she ever mentioned anything about Greek mythology, or the zoo?”

He laughed. “We didn’t really do a whole lot of talking when we got together, if you know what I mean. It was just a brief affair. Nothing very involved. I think we both realized that it wasn’t for the best – not for either of us.”

“Did she ever mention anyone who might be angry with her, or seeking revenge?”

“The cops and the other reporters asked me about this kind of stuff,” he said easily. “I’ve got nothing to say, really.”

“I won’t quote you. I just need to get a lead on this.”

“You’re a little late on the story, aren’t you?”

“I’m the one he mailed the letter to.”

“Oh.” The chipper attitude seemed to drop away.

I waited.

“I guess I can understand why you’re still looking into it, then.”

“Can you help me out?”

“Look, Miss…”

“Kelly. Irene Kelly.”

“Okay, Irene Kelly. I don’t like to be so blunt about it, especially talking to a woman, but I can’t see any other way to get this across before Co

“But if she talked to you…”

“I don’t think you could type up more than ten sentences if you quoted every word we said to each other that wasn’t just small talk. We’d go out to a bar, drink, dance and then go home and have terrific sex. At least, it was terrific at first. I guess I felt sort of turned on by the idea of having sex with this sophisticated older woman. A professor, for godsakes. But the thrill wore off pretty quickly, for her as well as for me. I didn’t learn her secrets, and she didn’t learn mine. I was sort of on the rebound, I guess you’d say. Some clown from school remembered seeing Edna and me together once, and told the cops I was her boyfriend.”

I heard noise in the background, and he excused himself then covered the phone. I could hear him say, “In here. I’m on the phone. No, some reporter. Aw, Co

“Look, Mr. Taylor, I need to talk to you a little more. Is there a number where I can reach you?”

“I don’t think that would be such a good idea.”

“How about when you get back?”

“Maybe. But I’m pretty busy. Gotta go.”

He hung up. Co

I tried Steven Kincaid again. No luck.

John came by my desk and talked me into going down to City Hall to cover the first reading of a zoning proposal. So much for Thanatos. But I agreed with John that the proposal might turn out to be more than the routine issue it appeared to be. I learned long ago that sometimes the most important issues in the city were decided in the most boring meetings.

Sure enough, by Wednesday morning there was a story on the front page of the Express that would guarantee a handsome turnout for the second reading of the proposal. It was my first story on page A-1 since the Thanatos letter, and I was working very hard at not showing how pleased I was by it.

The proposal would have changed the extent and type of building that could take place on the site of a Las Piernas landmark that had been destroyed by a fire. The council was already reneging on promises made in the last election. My phone was ringing off the hook. I felt like a kid who had just aimed a water hose at a hornet’s nest. Better yet, I felt like I was back to being a reporter. At times, the two sensations are not unalike.

In between calls, I cheerfully went through my mail sorting routine, opening Christmas cards and humming “Jingle Bells” to myself. All the same, when I was down to the final group, I opened them carefully, using the letter opener to pull them out, so that I didn’t touch the contents with my hands. Four flyers for meetings I would not attend. One more to open. Did it really matter that I was careful? I stopped humming when I unfolded it on my desk.

Dear Cassandra,

Have you missed me? You must be patient.

Thalia is next. It has already begun.

You tell me you need time to prepare. I will give you the time you need. Wait for Janus.

Enjoy the Saturnalia, Cassandra.

Thalia will learn the agony of Tantalus and more. Who helped Psyche to sort the seeds that

Venus placed before her?

Your beloved,

Thanatos

My phone was ringing again, but I didn’t answer it. As soon as it stopped, I called Doris, and in as calm a voice as I could manage, asked her to hold all my calls.

“I don’t think John will like it,” she began. “We’re getting a big reaction to your story.”

“Yes, well, I’ll talk to John.”

I called John on the intercom, asked for a moment of his time, used a folded strip of paper to cover my fingers when I gingerly picked the letter up by a corner, grabbed a mythology book, and somehow made it to John’s office without dropping anything.