“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.

“ . . . I assure you, we have nothing to be afraid of,” said sweet, angelic Sally.

“You’re sure nobody knows about this?” I didn’t recognise the other voice. It was a man’s, very deep and somehow disturbing. Its tone jarred in my ears, like a record being played at slightly the wrong speed.

“Nobody suspects a thing,” said Sally.

“What about this detective? You don’t think—”

He was interrupted by laughter from Sally. “Jimmy Clarenden? You’ve got to be joking. The man couldn’t solve a jigsaw puzzle if it only had one piece. I promise you, we have no reason to fear him.”

I raised my head slightly and tried to peer through the window. The room looked like some sort of lounge, with a plush couch and a fireplace against the opposite wall. Sally sat on the couch, her long legs spread provocatively over its violet cushions.

“I hope you are right,” said the other voice. I couldn’t make out its owner. He stood on the far side of the room, his features obscured in the shadows.

“Don’t worry about Clarenden,” said Sally. “I know how to deal with his type. I’ll just . . . ” She paused and then turned towards the window.

I ducked down just in time. While she had been speaking, I’d adjusted my position in an attempt to get a better look at the shadowy stranger, which had caused the patio to creak again, considerably more loudly. Though I could no longer see through the window, I could hear footsteps approaching. It was time for bed.

I leapt over the side of the patio, feeling a sudden tear as my pants caught on something. There was a strange sensation of coldness on my nether regions as I scurried away―not that I bothered to look back. I didn’t stop running until I was over the wall, down the hill, and back in the tranquil streets below.

All was silent as I made my way back towards the office. By this time, there was not a light visible in any of the houses I passed. Heaven slept, blissfully unaware of the plots being hatched behind the walls of the mansion on the hill. Nothing breathed. Nothing moved. And then I heard it.

It was a low rustling, coming from just beside my feet. I looked down and saw something small sliding along the ground, propelled forward by the light breeze. I picked it up and examined it. Nothing but an empty potato chip packet. I prepared to toss it back to the ground, but something made me pause. This was only the second piece of garbage I’d seen in Heaven all day.