I read the card and then placed it in my pocket, alongside the one Peter had given me.

“Celebrity journalist,” I said.

“I was the best. If you wanted any dirt dug up about anyone, I was the guy you’d turn to. I could tell you all the gossip; who was doing what to whom behind whoever else’s back. I knew it all.” The tone of his voice was angry and bitter.

“What happened?”

Alby shrugged. “I guess there isn’t much call for a guy with skills like mine up here.”

“That’s too bad,” I said. “We can cry into our lemonades together.”

“So what’s your story?” Alby demanded.

“No story,” I replied.

“You’ve got a story,” he insisted. “You’re just like me. You’re dirty and smelly, and you wish you were drunk. You’re not another mistake, are you?”

“What do you mean, mistake?”

“I’m a mistake. I’m not supposed to be here. I was meant to be sent . . . down below.”

Down below. The two words seemed to solidify in the air between us as he spoke. It was the first time I’d heard the other place mentioned, and it sent a shiver up my spine.

“How did you end up here?” I asked, shifting on my stool to make my involuntary shudder less obvious.

“Administrative bungle. By the time anyone realised what had happened, I was through the Gates and into Heaven.”

“And once you were in Heaven, they couldn’t send you back . . . down below?”

“Apparently not. It took ages for them to work it out. There was a big debate in the Heavenly Council about whether anyone who had passed through the Gates could be sent down below. They took a vote at the end and the no’s came up victorious. So they let me stay.”

“You’ve got to love democracy at work.”

“That’s pretty funny.” He paused for a moment. “You know how close it was?”

“Only after you tell me.”

“One vote, that’s all it was. One measly vote. Apparently it was cast by God’s own son.”

“Jesus?”

“No, the other one. I forget his name.”

“I believe it’s Phil,” I said, my interest suddenly aroused. “So he’s the one you owe this stroke of luck to.”

“Yeah,” said Alby. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am. Thanks to him, I get to spend eternity in this place. Thanks to him, I’m permanently stuck in this lousy dump, without even the chance of a drink to dull the pain.” Did I detect just a trace of resentment in his voice?

“Not a big fan of Heaven?” It was less a question and more a statement of the obvious.

“Oh no, Heaven’s a wonderful place. If you’re in any way opposed to the concept of having fun, you’ll love it here. If your main interest is extreme boredom, Heaven is definitely the place for you.”

I was distracted from his moaning by the sound of the tavern door being forced open. I looked up to see a couple of tough-looking gentlemen stride in.

“Cops,” muttered Alby. “Try to look inconspicuous.”

Cops? In Heaven? What was going on here? I’d been told Heaven was a place of peace and love. If it really was so perfect here, why was there any need for law enforcement?

There was no time to further ponder those questions. No matter how unobtrusive we made ourselves, Alby and I stood out like gorilla masks on ballet dancers, and the cops made a beeline for us. They walked past Alby and stood facing me.

“Goodness gracious, what have we got here?” said the taller of the two. He was a lean man with a long, thin neck that made his head jut forward like a lizard’s.

“Looks like a tramp,” said the other cop. He was stoutly built, with a face that was flat like a frying pan.

“Sure I’m a tramp,” I said. “If you want to know the full story, I’m also a hobo, a vagrant, and a vagabond. And if you fine gentlemen are really nice to me, I’ll get you a dictionary so you can find out what those words mean.”

“Listen, tramp, don’t try to play smart with us,” said Lizard Neck.

“Yeah, we know all about you, Clarenden,” said Frying Pan.

“Even if I tried to play smart, I could never be as clever as the two of you,” I said sweetly.

This threw them. For a moment, they looked at each other in puzzlement. Then, clearly content to take my words at face value, they smiled smugly and turned back to me.

“We’ve got some questions we’d like you to answer, Clarenden,” said Lizard Neck. “We want to know what you’re doing in Heaven.”

“Don’t I get to speak to a lawyer first?” I said. Both cops laughed at that. Lawyers in Heaven? Even they got that joke.

Lizard Neck took out a sheet of paper and began to read from it. “Did you, at any time during your past life, attend a church, temple, mosque, synagogue, or any other official place of worship?”

“No,” I said.

Frying Pan took a turn next. “Did you claim allegiance to any of the world’s established religions?”

“No,” I said.

Lizard Neck had a second try. “Did you at any stage donate money to charity or perform any voluntary works or good deeds?”

“No,” I said. “Can I buy either of you boys a lemonade?”

Lizard Neck put the piece of paper away. As he looked at me, his face twisted into an expression of confusion and disgust. Not really a pleasant mix, but then again, it wasn’t really a pleasant face.

“Okay, Clarenden,” he said. “You’ve got us for now, but I promise you this won’t be the end of it. We don’t know how you got here, but we’re damn well going to find out.”

“Yeah,” said Frying Pan. “You better watch yourself. We can make your time in Heaven very difficult if we want to.”

With that, the two cops turned and strode out of the bar, slamming the door behind them. As soon as they were gone, Alby looked at me.

“And you’re trying to tell me you’re not a mistake.”

“The only mistakes I know about in Heaven just left the building.”

Alby didn’t look convinced. “Well, mistake or not, I guess at least there’s someone new up here for them to hassle.”

“They give you a hard time?”

“They never stop. As soon as that vote was cast, they were onto me.”

“In my job I used to have to deal with cops a lot,” I said, “and I figured out one thing pretty quick.”

“What’s that?”

“The cops are never the ones running the show. There’s always someone hidden away in the background, pulling the strings. Alby, I might have a chance for you to put your investigative skills into action.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Find out who’s pulling the strings.”

Alby’s eyes narrowed. “What’s in it for me?”

“A few minutes ago, you were saying how bored you were. Wouldn’t you like a little excitement?”

“Excitement I could do with. Trouble, on the other hand . . . ” He indicated the door through which the cops had just departed.

I beckoned for him to come closer. I spoke in a whisper into his ear. “I can’t promise anything, but I believe I can make this worth your while.”

He thought for a moment. “Okay, you talked me into it. I’ll see what I can find.”

“That’s the spirit. Go and dig up some dirt for me. How about we rendezvous back here tomorrow?”

“Might as well. It’s as bad as any other place around here.”

As I left the tavern, I took one last look at Alby Stark nursing his glass of soda water. He might have made it into Heaven, but in his own way he was very much in . . . I think you know the place I’m talking about.

Chapter 5

BEFORE I RETURNED TO THE OFFICE, I went into a little sandwich bar to grab some lunch. Then I hit the shops to pick up some of the essentials I was going to need in order to function effectively as a private investigator. This shopping without money was one thing about Heaven I could definitely get used to.

Back in the office, I made some hasty renovations that put my new purchases to good use. Then I paused to consider my progress.

My morning expedition had been surprisingly successful. I’d already found two people with potential grudges against Phil: Raphael, because Phil didn’t seem to share his enthusiasm for a charitable society; and Alby, because Phil had sentenced him to an eternity of peace and contentment. All right, so Raphael seemed about as dangerous as a pygmy Chihuahua in a steel muzzle, but you could never be too sure. Alby, on the other hand, was a completely different kettle of slimy gossip. I decided I would have to talk to Peter to find out more about how this special case slipped into Heaven.