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“Not so fast,” I said, grabbing him by the collar as he attempted to slink away. “When those Bostinos are brought in, you better guard them like you’ve never guarded anyone before. I’m talking maximum security, around the clock. And you’d also better check up on all those service shafts. Nobody can be allowed to sneak into Heaven again. Because let me tell you, if this sort of thing should ever happen again, you’ll be out of business faster than a raincoat salesman in the middle of the Sahara.”

The Devil nodded. “I will take care of it.”

I walked out of the police station to find myself confronted by a legion of flashing cameras and chattering reporters shoving microphones in my face. It looked like the entire news media of Heaven had caught on to the story and now wanted a piece of me. As I tried to shield my eyes and make some space for myself, I felt a tap on the shoulder. I turned to see the Devil still hovering behind me.

“Why are you still here?” I said.

“When an opportunity presents itself, I cannot let it slip away,” he said, smiling that smile that had all the warmth of a snowstorm. “You’ve got a story that everybody wants to hear. What you need is an agent.”

“You’re right, I do have a story to tell.” I turned and began pushing my way through the crowd.

“Where are you going?” cried the Devil. “Don’t you realise I can make you a wealthy man?”

“I’m off to The Loaf and the Fishes,” I called back. “I know a journalist there who deserves a break.”

* * *

After I’d explained the whole story to Alby Stark over a couple of stiff lemonades, I returned to the Palace for one final audience with God. As He ushered me into His chamber, I was pleased to note that the paraphernalia from His home shopping spree had been removed and the television was switched off. As for God, He was grinning like a Cheshire cat on Prozac.

“Congratulations, Mr Clarenden. Thanks to you, I have my son back at last, and Heaven is being returned to its previous immaculate state. But before we discuss your reward, I do have one question to ask. I understand how the Bostinos’ plan was supposed to work, but there’s still something I haven’t figured out. However did you discover that Phil and Raphael were trapped inside the police station?”

“Actually, I have to admit it was a bit of a long shot. In the council meeting, when I described the Bostinos, I took a close look at everybody’s faces to see what reactions I would get. The guilt written all over the Devil’s face was no surprise, given that his dealings with the Bostinos were well established. But I couldn’t help noticing a similar expression on Sally’s face. That got me thinking. What contact would she have had with the Bostino boys?

“Then I remembered the police station. From the first moment I saw it, I couldn’t help wondering why it had been built. Why go to such an effort to create an anti-crime headquarters in a place that has a crime problem like a sperm whale has a dandruff problem? That’s when I put two and two together. The Bostinos must have built the police station. That explained not only why they were familiar to Sally, but also the real purpose of the station. What better place to hide the victims of their crimes than right under the noses of the force that was supposed to be preventing them? What better guards than a couple of knuckleheads with no idea what they were sitting on?”

God nodded. “I understand.”

“I’m glad you do, because there’s still one thing I haven’t figured out. I can’t understand how the Bostinos convinced Sally she needed a police force in the first place.”

“The Bostinos didn’t have to convince Sally of anything,” said God. “They just took advantage of an opportunity. Sally had already well and truly decided that Heaven needed a police force.”

“But why?”

“Come on, Mr Clarenden, where have you been for the last couple of days? Sally needed them to protect her privacy, so nobody would know about her affair with the Devil.”

I kicked myself. Even after solving this case, I was still the dimmest private investigator I knew. “As if I couldn’t have guessed that the interior design the Devil was giving to Sally was strictly the horizontal kind,” I muttered.

God chuckled. “That’s one way of putting it. The fools. To think they could have kept it hidden from me.”

“Are you telling me you’ve known about it all along?”

“I might have been hoodwinked by the Bostinos, but there’s very little else in Heaven that gets past my eye.”

“So why did you go along with her? Why allow her to set up the police force?”

“Because, to be perfectly honest, I was quite happy to keep the whole sordid business out of the public eye. I didn’t need the sort of fiasco that would result if anybody else found out. I figured that sooner or later, nature would take its course, and I guess eventually I was right. Judging by today’s events, I don’t think there are going to be any more midnight renovation sessions in Sally’s mansion.”

I laughed. “She’s quite a piece of work. Isn’t there anything you can do to keep her in line?”

God shook His head. “Not a thing. She’s an angel. That’s the way I created her, and that’s the way she’ll always be.”

“But you’re all-powerful. There must be some way you can change her.”

God thought for a moment before answering. “You’re right, there is one thing I could do. But it would involve going all the way back to the beginning and recreating the whole world from scratch, and to be honest that isn’t something I’ve got the time or the inclination to do. Let me tell you, Mr Clarenden, creating every single thing in the known cosmos isn’t as easy as it looks.”

“I can imagine.”

“Actually, I don’t think you can. I don’t think you have any conception of what is involved.”

“I suppose you’re right. I’m sorry I came down so hard on you earlier. I never really thought about how difficult it must be to be you. I mean, here you are, ruling the universe, and yet half the people out there don’t even believe you exist. And as for the other half, a good proportion of them are running around, doing terrible things in your name. How do you handle it? How do you get through the day?”

“I guess it’s like any other job. You have your good days and your bad. Sometimes creation is such a chore, the best I can manage is leeches or stinging nettles, or the fashion industry. But other times, I get a buzz out of everything. Those are the days when I’m able to create the good things, like colours or music or strawberries dipped in chocolate. Or the Eleven Commandments, I’m especially fond of them.”

“Eleven Commandments? I’m no expert, but I was under the impression there were only Ten Commandments.”

“There were supposed to be eleven. Unfortunately, one got lost along the way.”

“What was the Eleventh Commandment?”

“I’m not sure I can even remember. It was such a long time ago.” God’s brow puckered as He tried to drag the additional commandment out from His boundless reserves of memory. “Yes, I’ve got it. Thou shalt have a sense of humour!”

“I think that’s the only one I’ve ever come close to keeping.”

God grinned. “I know. But I have a feeling that will soon be changing. I have some good news for you. I’ve been doing some bending and fiddling with the rules, and it turns out there won’t be any problem sending you back down. That is, if you wish to go. You’re welcome to stay up here if you prefer.”

From the moment Phil and Raphael had been released from their prison, I had been aware that I might face this choice. Part of me was sorely tempted to stay. The idea that I could discard my earthly worries and retire to an afterlife of peace and tranquility was extremely enticing. But I couldn’t help thinking about the vision of my own funeral I’d witnessed soon after I’d first arrived. I had no idea how Sally had conjured it up—whether it was a projection from a possible future or a trick of her own devising—but I did know that if I stayed, it would become reality. And while vanity is not a sin I could ever be accused of, I knew my memory was worth more than that.