“It’s no concern. I just thought I might be able to help you, that’s all.”
I laughed. “You really want to help me? You’re a saint.”
“Actually, I’m an angel.”
“Okay, Angel, if you really want to help me . . . ” She angled her head towards me. “ . . . Tell me where in this God-forsaken place I can have some fun.”
Back went the head. “What do you mean, fun?”
“You see, that’s the problem. Nobody here seems to have any conception of how to have fun.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I know what I’m saying all right. Heaven is a morgue. I could have more fun in an old person’s home. I haven’t even been here a day and I’m already sick of it.”
“Don’t talk like that.” Jessie was on her feet, crying out with surprising violence. Her eyes were filled with tears and her lower lip was quivering.
“Angel, take it easy.”
“You’ve barely been in Heaven a day and you think you know what it’s all about. Well you’re wrong. Heaven is a place where people are happy. It’s a beautiful place, a blessed place. If you can’t see that, then you definitely shouldn’t be here.”
“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “I’m sure you know far more about these things than I do.”
“Don’t play with me.”
“I’m not playing. This whole business is deadly serious, as far as I’m concerned.”
She looked at me. I looked at her. Nothing moved in my tiny office, save for the slow rotation of the ceiling fan I’d recently installed. Finally, she sat down.
“I’m sorry if that seemed a bit overdramatic,” she said as she went through the whole robe arranging thing again. “It’s just that I care a lot about this place. Maybe in time you will too. Anyway, as I said before, if there’s anything I can do to assist . . . ” As she finished with the robe, she leant forward, listening intently. Too intently.
I said, “You want to help me and I’m a three-legged ostrich.”
She rocked back. “Excuse me—”
“No, you excuse me. I think I’ve figured out what’s going on here. You want something from me, but it’s not something you can just come out and ask for. So instead, you come here with these apologies and warnings and offers to help, hoping that what you want will slip out of my mouth without me knowing it. You’re waiting for me to give you a sign. What sort of sign, Angel? What do you need me to tell you?”
“I think I’d better go.” She stood up again and began walking towards the door. I called after her.
“Is it something to do with Sally? Can you at least tell me that much?”
She stopped and turned back to me.
“Remember, my offer to help still stands. Anything you want, just ask.”
There was something she could do for me all right. “Angel, if you can scare me up a bottle of whisky, I’ll be your friend for life.”
But she’d already walked out of the office, leaving the door open behind her. I peeked through the Venetians and watched her exit the building and disappear down the street.
I went to close the door, but at that minute the phone rang. I dashed back to the desk and picked up the phone. It was Peter.
“Jimmy, how are you?”
“Just blowing in the wind. I wasn’t expecting to hear from you. Still busy?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe. Big earthquake in Mexico. I’ve barely had time to breathe. But I can always squeeze in a minute for a detective like you. How can I help?”
“I need to talk to you.”
“Sounds exciting. Are you on a case?”
“I can’t say. Can I meet you this afternoon?”
“Just a moment, I’ll check my schedule.” For a couple of minutes, I heard nothing but frantic paper rustling. Then Peter’s voice came back on the line.
“I’m sorry, this afternoon isn’t good. Gas explosion in the Philippines and mudslides in Bangladesh. It looks like we’re going to be snowed under for the rest of the day.”
“That’s too bad. What about tomorrow?”
The paper rustled again. “I might be able to squeeze you in at half-past seven tomorrow morning. How does that sound?”
“Like a woodpecker drilling for oil in my head. But I’ll be there. See you at the Gates tomorrow.”
“At the Gates,” agreed Peter. “It will be a pleasure.”
I hung up and sat down again. A meeting at half-past seven? So much for carousing until the break of dawn. The sacrifices I made for this lousy job.
* * *
I did go out that evening. As the sun slowly set and Heaven’s skies acquired a soft pink hue, I sat and ate dinner in a small cafe. The food tasted fine. Not special but fine, like the food you could get in a multitude of cafes back in the land of the living. Mind you, even if it had matched the food from a restaurant with five chef’s hats and three gold stars, I don’t think I would have enjoyed it much. My encounter with Jessie had left me deeply troubled.
What in the world, or outside the world perhaps, could upset an angel? Angels weren’t supposed to have worries. Angels were meant to sit around on clouds, playing their harps and smiling beatifically. But, beneath the demureness and the offers for help, I could see the fear in Jessie’s eyes. What was the source of her discomfort? What did Sally have over her? And how did any of this connect with Phil’s disappearance? All of those questions consumed me as I tried to consume my dinner.
After a while, unable to arrive at anything resembling a satisfactory answer, I gave up on eating and left the cafe. Rather than go home, I decided to take another walk and experience the world of Heaven after dark. Perhaps things really did pick up once the lights went down. Maybe Alby Stark’s complaints were just the jaundiced ravings of a cynical old hack.
It didn’t take long for this cynical old hack to realise Alby was right on the money. Heaven after dark was jumping as high as an elephant seal on prescription downers. I walked down streets and lanes, and looked over fences and through windows, but I didn’t see or hear any signs of anything that might vaguely resemble nightlife. The streets were abandoned and the entire population of Heaven seemed to be having a quiet night in. Nothing was open. No bars, no clubs, not even any bingo halls. Silence reigned in the streets.
I’d been out for about an hour and was about to call it a night myself, when something caught my attention. The street I was walking along began to climb a small hill, and at the top of the hill, a light shone brighter than any of the modest lamps in the other houses. I walked up the hill, increasing my pace as I became aware of a massive structure looming above. When I reached the top, I stopped to catch my breath, looked up, and could barely believe my eyes.
The place was huge. It was hard to fully discern in the darkness, but it looked like a mansion built above a mansion and then topped off with a mansion. Apart from God’s palace, all the other houses I’d seen in Heaven had been small, modest affairs. This one clearly had to belong to someone important―perhaps someone who had been a great leader, or whose life had been spent performing wondrous deeds.
The road towards the house was blocked by a large and extremely locked iron gate. Fortunately, the wall beside the gate didn’t pose too much of a challenge, and I was able to climb over it fairly easily. I found myself on a broad lawn. Up ahead, along the front of the house, a patio stretched. From a window above the patio, to the right of the front door, streamed the light I had seen from the bottom of the hill.
I walked softly across the lawn towards the house. As I approached, I began to hear voices coming from the lighted window. The steps of the patio creaked under my feet as I climbed them, but the voices didn’t stop. Nobody heard me as I crept along the patio, crouched underneath the window, and listened.
It didn’t take me more than a second to place the first voice. It was someone whose major claim to greatness was the pair of legs she displayed beneath those shorter-than-short robes.