“Which is why I need to find out. Look, I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”
“And afterwards you’ll come back up? Back to me?”
“I promise.” The words had escaped from my mouth before my brain had even started processing her request. Now that they were out, there was no chance I could take them back. Even in the darkness, I could see the dreamy look on her face as she lay back on the pillow. The damage was done. I would just have to deal with the consequences when I got back. If I got back.
“One more thing,” I said. “The glowing trick. If you’re not really an angel, how do you do that?”
“Pick up my robe and see.”
I reached down and picked up the robe. Straight away, I realised why it felt so heavy. The insides were lined with a network of tiny wires and globes. Jessie reached over and flicked a switch inside the sleeve, and suddenly the room was bathed in light.
I placed the robe back on the floor and began to laugh. She joined me, and for ages we lay on the bed, howling like a couple of demented chimps. Finally, she rolled over, into my arms, and there she spent the rest of the night.
She was no angel. I was glad.
Chapter 9
EARLY IN THE MORNING, while Jessie slept, I quietly dressed and stole out of the building. I wanted to take a look at Raphael’s place in the still of morning, before the crowds began to gather.
Even by Heaven’s standards, Raphael’s cottage was small. It looked less like a real dwelling and more like a child’s dollhouse, blown up to almost but not quite full size. Out front, a rickety-looking barrier had been inexpertly set up, with a sign saying Crime Scene – Do Not Enter. I tapped on the barrier, and it promptly collapsed at my feet. With any impediment to my progress effectively dismantled, I walked down the little path, opened the door, and entered Raphael’s home.
The place was a shambles. If the nature of Phil’s disappearance remained frustratingly opaque, there could be no doubting that Raphael had been taken against his will. Tables and chairs had been overturned. Pieces of paper and bits of broken ornaments were strewn all over the floor. I was impressed. It looked like the little guy had put up quite a struggle.
I took a closer look to see if anything lying around the place could shed any light on the identity of the intruders. The papers on the floor weren’t much help. They seemed to be either donation forms for the various charitable organisations Raphael ran, or sheet music specially annotated for a harp orchestra. As for the shattered pieces of ornaments, those were the remnants of commemorative plates and porcelain sculptures that only the finest mail order firms would have the gall to perpetrate on the public. They revealed plenty about the victim of this crime but very little about those who had committed it, except that perhaps they possessed a modicum of taste.
I checked out the other rooms and quickly discovered that the struggle had been confined to the front room. The rest of the house seemed to be completely untouched. However, it was what greeted me in the bathroom that really caught my eye.
A series of large green mounds were stacked against the wall—garbage bags, all filled to the brim. I untied the tag of the nearest one and took a look inside. It was packed solid with rubbish of all descriptions: food wrappers, advertising flyers, old newspapers, and electrical junk. I checked a couple of the other bags and found that they too were tightly crammed with waste materials. I counted the number of bags in the room. There were fifteen in all, each one heaving and bulging with refuse. It was no wonder Heaven was so clean. Raphael was a one-man waste disposal system.
From outside the front door, I could hear voices I had no trouble recognising. It was the soft, caring tones of my friends Lizard Neck and Frying Pan. As their heavy footsteps thudded into the front room, I was already out the back door, over the fence, and away.
I hurried back to the office. On the way, I passed the school crossing where I had spoken to Raphael two days previously, and there a bizarre sight caught my eye. Despite the complete absence of any traffic, a large group of children was huddled on the side of the road, waiting for a crossing guard to help them across. It looked like school was going to be out in Heaven today.
* * *
By the time I got back, Jessie was in the kitchen making breakfast. I sat down at the table and she placed a plate of pancakes and a cup of steaming coffee in front of me. As we ate, we chatted about nothing in particular. Afterwards, we both stood up.
She said, “I guess I’d better be going.”
I said, “Angel’s work is never done?”
She sighed. “There’s no rest for the wicked, but I don’t like to consider the alternative.” Then she switched on her lights and walked out the door.
I sat down at my desk and mulled over the current state of affairs. I now had two missing people, far too many suspects with far too many motives, and no real evidence of any kind. I’d clearly reached a dead end. Heaven might have more secrets, but it wasn’t about to spit them out. If I wanted to move the case forward, there was another place I needed to visit. But after what Jessie had told me last night, I wasn’t sure I wanted to think about what I would find when I got there.
Luckily, I was able to put off such forebodings for the moment, because at that precise instant the phone decided to ring. I picked it up and immediately heard a voice with clear tones, precise diction, and a complete lack of interest in talking to me. It was God’s servant, Gabriel.
“The Master would like to see you immediately.”
“I’m on my way,” I said. “Any idea what this might be about?”
“I’m afraid not. But I don’t think He’s very happy.”
I polished off a quick glass of bourbon before hurrying over to God’s palace. The prospect of facing an angry God was not one that filled me with gleeful anticipation. Still, I did see one positive that could come out of this meeting. I hadn’t had a smoke since I arrived in Heaven. This time, I wasn’t going to turn down God’s offer.
Gabriel ushered me into the palace and led me through the packed waiting room. Within God’s chamber, the television was blaring and God was sitting on the couch, utterly enthralled.
Gabriel cleared his throat. “Mr Clarenden to see you,” he said. Then he exited, not quite able to hide the smirk on his face.
God flicked the television off and slowly turned towards me. His face was red and His lips were tightly pursed.
“Jimmy Clarenden,” He rasped. “You have some explaining to do.”
“What exactly do you need me to explain?” I wasn’t exactly quaking in my boots, but only because I wasn’t wearing boots.
“Do you recall what I said to you when you first arrived in Heaven?”
“You said a number of things to me when I first arrived in Heaven. Which one in particular do you wish me to recall?”
“I told you that the peace of Heaven must be preserved. I gave you specific instructions that you were not to cause trouble of any kind.”
“Instructions I have taken great pains to follow.”
“Not great enough. Since your arrival, I have had no end of complaints about your behaviour. Attempts to break into the house of one of my angels. Run-ins with the police, from which I have had to bail you out personally. And now I find that another of my angels has disappeared. Can you give me one good reason why I shouldn’t have you taken off the case immediately?” As God spoke, His eyes glittered ferociously from under His bushy eyebrows.
I took a deep breath before I replied.
“Listen to me, God,” I said. “First of all, in regard to Raphael’s disappearance, I have no idea who is responsible and I don’t see how that even concerns me. Secondly, in regard to the other disturbances, you’ve hired me to do a job. In the course of trying to do that job, there is a good chance I’m going to uncover some things that were better left covered, and put some noses out of joint. I’m not apologising for that. If you want me to be able to do my job properly, you’re going to have to accept that, and then step back and let me operate the way I see fit. It’s your call. Do you want to see your son again or not?”