“I’m not implying anything,” I said softly. “It’s just that you’ve told me so little, and I assumed that because you are who you are, you must know a lot more than that.”
“Oh, I understand,” said God, His voice still dripping with sarcasm. “You don’t actually want to solve this case yourself. You’d much rather have me tell you everything you need to know. What do you expect? Do you think I know everything?”
“Actually, I thought you did.”
This stopped God in His tracks for a moment. Presently, He replied.
“You’re right. I do know everything.” Then He shrugged His shoulders. “It isn’t all it’s made out to be.”
“It sounds pretty handy from where I’m standing.”
“The great problem with knowing everything,” said God, “is that the vast majority of things are really not worth knowing. After a while, you end up with so much junk spinning around inside your head, it becomes practically impossible to determine which bits are actually important. Most of the time, I just end up confusing myself.”
“So there definitely isn’t anything else you can tell me?”
“I don’t know. Maybe there is. Maybe there isn’t. I can’t tell anymore. Everything’s become so complicated. Take art for instance. I created that. Was damn pleased with myself at the time. In fact, I’d have to say that of all the things I created, art was definitely one of my favourites. But look at it now. There’s all this modern art, and post-structuralism, and . . . Well I can’t keep up with all the words they use these days. I haven’t got a clue what any of it means anymore.”
God sat back on the couch. He seemed to be struggling to collect His thoughts, which wasn’t surprising given how many of them there were. After a minute or so, He stirred again.
“Still,” He said, “at least I’ve got television. That’s one thing I’ll always understand.” He raised His remote control and the screen before Him flashed back to life.
I stood in the middle of the room, watching that luminescent box. The program was one of those funniest video shows, the sort that seemed to regard children falling from high places and suffering grievous bodily harm as innately hilarious. And at least one person in the room agreed with that assessment. Within a minute, God was cackling like a hyena in a bed of feather dusters. As for myself, I found it about as funny as a heart bypass.
After about a minute of pranks, pratfalls, and semi-serious injuries, I realised God had switched off for the day. I turned tail and departed from His chamber. He didn’t acknowledge me as I departed. He probably didn’t even realise I had gone.
As Gabriel escorted me from the palace, I was certain there was something God wasn’t telling me. Actually, there were an infinite number of things He wasn’t telling me, but hidden amongst them was something important. Something without which I would never find Phil.
* * *
Over breakfast, Jessie had given me directions to her secret passage between Heaven and Hell. That afternoon, I followed those directions and found an old grate low down in a wall between two houses. It was from behind this grate that Jessie had stared, observing the good people of Heaven before eventually emerging to join them in their games.
I waited by the grate for several hours, trying to convince myself to take the first step. Every so often, I would make a haphazard approach, shaping as if I was actually going to set off, but something always made me stop and hang back. Maybe it was the bright sun getting in my eyes, temporarily blinding me. Maybe it was a slight twist of my ankle as I leant down to inspect the grate. Or maybe it was the sight of a couple of passersby in the street, conveniently alerting me to the fact that it wouldn’t be wise to be spotted fleeing Heaven via this illicit passage.
After a while, I decided to return to the office. It seemed prudent to wait until dark to attempt the journey. That way, I was sure to be able to leave Heaven unnoticed. And besides, after my nerve-wracking encounter with God, I could do with a couple of hours’ rest. If Hell really was as bad as Jessie claimed, I wanted to be in an alert state of mind when I got there.
From the moment I entered the office, I had a feeling I wasn’t alone. I crept into the kitchen and turned on the light, but there was nobody there. The only observable company were the glasses from last night, still standing by the sink.
As I approached the bedroom door, I noticed it was slightly ajar. I eased it open and slid through. My arm stretched. My fingers reached out, probing. I felt the cold touch of plastic, and with a flick of my fingers, the room was bathed in light. Then I saw my guest.
A couple of legs were draped over the end of the bed—a couple of long, sleek legs that did not exist in isolation, but were merely the lower regions of a body that contained more perilous curves than a winding mountain road.
“I thought you’d never get back,” said Sally.
“Long day at the office, honey.” I took off my hat and put it on the table by the bed. She immediately grabbed it and placed it on her head. I grabbed it back and returned it to the table. She giggled.
“I hope you’re finished with your little game,” she said, “because I’ve got a few ideas for some games of my own.”
“Then I suppose I’d better go and find a board and some dice.”
“Those aren’t the kinds of games I’ve got in mind.”
“Then I’m afraid you’ve come to the wrong place. I’m not much good when it comes to card games.”
Sally fluttered her eyelids. “Oh please don’t be like that. I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I’m prepared to make it all up to you.” She stood and walked over to me. She put her hands on my shoulders, and with a touch like silk she gently slid my coat off.
“Isn’t that better?” she breathed into my ear.
“Much better,” I agreed. “So where have you hidden your boys?”
“What do you mean?” she murmured.
“Your two policemen. Are they hiding in the cupboard? Or are they skulking in the shadows outside?”
“I came here alone. I just wanted to see you.”
“Sure you did. You just couldn’t wait for me to get my hands on you. And then what? Just one scream, and suddenly your boys are jumping on me and dragging me downtown for a rap that’s going to be a lot harder for me to squirm out of this time.”
She slapped me across the face. “Of all the nerve. No one has ever spoken to me like that. I’ve a good mind to—”
I never did find out what her mind was good for, because at that moment there was a knock on the office door. I pushed Sally onto the bed, hurried back to the office, and opened the door. Jessie stood there. She started to open her mouth, but before any words could come out, a voice rang out from the room beyond.
“Who is it, sweetheart?” Sally promenaded into the office, took one look at Jessie, and then, before I could stop her, wrapped herself around me and violently attached her lips to mine.
I brushed Sally aside, and just for a second my eyes met Jessie’s. Then Jessie was gone. I started after her, then stopped. I walked back into the office where Sally was now sitting in my chair, her legs resting on top of the desk.
“I’ve got to give you credit,” she laughed. “You’re a faster mover than I thought. Though I hardly would have expected that little sap to be the type to fall for you.”
“Get out,” I snarled. It wasn’t my most sophisticated riposte, but it seemed to neatly sum up everything I wanted to say. Not that it made much difference to her.
“Don’t think you can order me around. You’re a pathetic excuse for a detective. You couldn’t even solve a crossword puzzle.”
I didn’t try to order her around. Instead, I grabbed her by the waist and heaved her over my shoulder. Then I carried her out of the office and into the street. All the while, she screamed and struggled and pummeled her fists into my back.