I racked my brain trying to remember the position of the side door I’d seen Sid scurrying into the night before, then counted across the windows on the left side to see if I could match window with door. Once I’d made my selection, I hoisted myself up and through the window, and immediately discovered my calculations were hopelessly wrong.

Instead, I found myself in what appeared to be a tearoom. There was a counter with a kettle, a toaster, and a griller. There was also another person in the room. Click went the kettle as that other person switched it on.

Just in time, I dived behind the counter. I could see a pair of black-clothed legs, but couldn’t tell whom they belonged to. Luckily, as the kettle began to boil, the noise gave me the cover I needed, and I was able to quickly crawl to the other side of the room and out into the big, gothic hall.

Sticking closely to the gargoyle-infested walls, I made my way to the next door and poked my head inside. This room looked a lot more promising. Atop a small desk, a series of manila folders were arranged, while banks of filing cabinets lined the far wall. And, even more promisingly, it was completely unoccupied. I crept inside. It was time to give the Devil’s accountant an audit.

I began leafing through the contents of the folders on the table, and as I examined each document, things began to fall into place. I had discovered the Devil’s line of business at last. The scope of his enterprise ranged across building maintenance, plumbing, electrical, even clothing repair and alterations—basically all of the manual work required for the upkeep of Heaven. So much for the Devil being such a big-shot. There was no vast business empire, and no hidden maze of graft and corruption. The Prince of Darkness was really nothing more than the Prince of Subcontractors.

There was still one particular operation I needed to uncover. Frantically, I scanned through the documents, working through the painting, flooring, double-glazing, and roof-insulation divisions. Finally, I found what I was looking for—the information about garbage collection.

I tore through various ledgers, profit and loss statements, and other financial statistics related to garbage collection, looking for the one piece of information I was particularly interested in. Bully had told me the garbage business had recently been taken over. Who were the new owners? Who had come in and pushed their employees to the point of going on strike? At last, here was the contract of sale. I was about to take a look when . . .

 . . . The door flew open. I turned to see two pairs of eyes glaring at me. One was the most evil set of peepers that had ever looked my way. The other belonged to the Devil.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the Devil demanded, sending the temperature in the room plummeting by at least fifteen degrees.

The Devil’s accountant let out a high-pitched squeal, rushed over to the desk, and grabbed the folder. “He’s looking at the garbage collection,” he said in a soft, high-pitched voice that couldn’t have been more at odds with his ghastly visage.

“I might have guessed,” the Devil growled. “You’ve been sent here by God to snoop into my private business affairs.”

“That’s not the case at all—,” I began.

There was no way the Devil was going to let me finish. “That’s just typical,” he blustered. “He is a jealous God. Just because I’m so much more successful in business than He is.”

I figured I should at least try one more time. “If you’d only let me explain—”

Still, the Devil had no interest in listening. “I’m going off to my Tai Chi class now, Mr Clarenden. When I get back, I expect you will have removed yourself from Hell. I hope for your sake that will be the case.” Then he turned and left the office.

“I think you’d better listen to him,” said Sid in his sweet-sounding voice. I tried to catch one last glance at that garbage contract, but the little creep was too quick for me, shutting the folder and hiding it deep inside the nearest filing cabinet.

There wasn’t a lot more I could do at this stage. Even without the Devil’s threats, I knew it was time to leave Hell. There was nothing left to find here. I had a feeling that all the remaining answers lay back up in Heaven. And besides, I didn’t think I could handle too many more of the little surprises Hell had to offer.

Leaving Sid to his beloved manila folders, I left the castle and hurried back through the garbage-strewn, vomit-ridden streets of Hell. As I walked, I agonised over whether I should pay one last visit to Jessie. Eventually, I decided against it. Tearful good-byes were not my scene. Anyway, what was I supposed to say to her? Hey Angel, I hope you have the mime of your life?

The sun, or whatever passed for the source of light down here, was just beginning to set when I finally found the right alley. As I left the main street, I couldn’t help noticing three musicians standing on the corner. They were playing as if their life depended upon it, but none of the passersby seemed to care. The little hat that lay at their feet was bulging full of nothing. This sight more than anything made me realise how glad I was to be leaving Hell. Jessie was right. It was a cruel place.

Climbing up the ladder back into Heaven was about as fun as arm wrestling a grizzly bear while wearing a blindfold, but somehow I forced myself onwards and upwards. As I got closer to the top, I couldn’t help feeling energised by the healing air of Heaven. However, I also couldn’t help noticing something else that was more than a little unnerving.

My hands, clutching tightly to the rungs above, were beginning to collect dirt and grime. Given the pristine nature of Heaven, it was clear where this grit must have come from. Apparently I wasn’t the only person who had used this passage in recent days. Someone else had been climbing up the ladder from Hell into Heaven.

At last, I dragged myself out of the hole and collapsed panting on the floor of the small room at the top. After allowing myself some vitally needed recovery time, I pushed away the grate and climbed out. I was back in Heaven.

At least I assumed I was in Heaven. The street I was standing in was filthy.

Chapter 14

I WALKED AWAY FROM THE GRATE and inspected my surroundings. It was definitely Heaven. I recognised the two houses on either side of me. But the whole streetscape couldn’t have looked more different. There was rubbish everywhere. It was piled up all over the street and swirling around in the air. The garbage collection strike was clearly beginning to have an impact.

The rubbish wasn’t the only thing that was different about Heaven. There was also a change in the people around me—a quickness to their step and a worried look on their faces. The tranquility that had previously been the hallmark of this place was disappearing as quickly as the green lawns were disappearing beneath mounds of trash.

I walked back down the street, dodging the pieces of flying garbage, the rubbish piles that were as deep as quicksand, and the hordes of seemingly lost schoolchildren. I didn’t like this new Heaven. The chaos and confusion on the street made me feel like I’d never left Hell. I had to find out more about whoever had taken over the garbage collection and thrown things into such disarray. And my feet were leading me in one direction only.

It was early evening and probably not long before closing time when I arrived at The Loaf and the Fishes, but the little bar was full of anxious patrons. At least one of them was happy to see me.

“Jimmy Clarenden, step this way,” cried the voice of Alby Stark above the bewildered murmurings of the crowd.

I pushed through and eventually made my way over to the grinning journalist.