“Can you at least tell me when you last saw him?” I said.

“It’s been over a week now. He was supposed to be going out for lunch with Raphael—that’s one of my angels—but he didn’t keep the appointment. That in itself is completely unlike him. He’s usually very reliable. Since then, I have seen neither hide nor hair of him. I am concerned, Mr Clarenden. I don’t know if he’ll be able to look after himself. I need you to find him as quickly as possible.”

“I’ll do my best. But before I start, can I ask you one thing?”

“Anything, if it will help.”

“Why me?”

“What do you mean?” God finished His cigarette and reached into His robe to take out another one.

“I was just thinking there must be hundreds of brilliant, dead detectives up here in Heaven. So why ask me? Why go to all the effort of summoning me, a no-bit bum who hasn’t solved a case in five years, when you could have hired Sherlock Holmes or the French guy with the moustache or anyone else like that?”

God finished lighting the cigarette. “As I mentioned, this is a delicate business. My family occupies a privileged position here in Heaven. We enjoy a certain status which I am unwilling to compromise. Therefore, I have been forced to keep the fact of Phil’s disappearance a secret.”

“You don’t want anyone to know. I can understand that. But how does that affect me?”

“Think logically. If Sherlock Holmes, or someone like that, was to start nosing around and asking lots of questions about Phil, especially when no one has seen him for a week, people would begin to get suspicious very quickly. I’d be faced with a lot of highly uncomfortable questions.”

“It wouldn’t look good. It would weaken your authority.”

“Precisely. However, if a no-bit bum, as you so accurately described yourself, was to be looking around and asking the same questions, I suspect nobody would care too much one way or another.”

God’s point was well made. Not too tactful, but well made.

“I mean,” God went on, “what other detective would be so incompetent, he would let himself be outfoxed by a troop of Girl Scouts?”

“That was one mean troop of Girl Scouts.”

“What other detective would be so inept, he would hand a missing dog to a suspicious wife, and photos of an unfaithful husband to a bereaved dog owner?”

“I got confused. I’m not used to having one job at a time, let alone two. And besides, the husband and the dog were virtually indistinguishable.”

“What other detective would be so stupid, he would accidentally bug his own home and then spend hours transcribing his own conversations?”

“All right,” I growled, “I think you’ve made your point. Besides, this is a bit rich coming from the God who created Brussels sprouts and insurance companies.”

“Touché,” said God. He took another drag from His cancer stick and then continued. “I think you should know that despite all of that, I have complete faith in your ability to solve this case.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

I turned and took a couple of steps over to the television and back, considering the assignment. God’s barbs hadn’t exactly filled me with a warm glow of self-assurance. Then again, compared to some of those recent jobs, going undercover as a dead guy seemed like a definite step forward.

“So tell me, can you think of anyone who may have held a grudge against your son?”

“This is Heaven,” said God. “It’s a place of peace and love. It is not a place where people hold grudges of any kind. And definitely not against any of my sons.”

“You’re sure you have no idea what might have happened to him?”

“Of course I have no idea. If I did, I wouldn’t have hired you. What do you expect? Do you think I can see everything?”

“Actually, I thought you could.”

God thought for a moment, the cigarette smoldering in His fingers. “You’re right, I can see everything,” He said after a while. “But it’s the darnedest thing. Even I can’t seem to see what happened to Phil. It’s as if there’s some kind of shadow or darkness blocking my vision.”

Now that was something I definitely didn’t want to know more about. God’s talk of impenetrable shadows made me think again of the darkness I had floated through on my way into the light—the darkness I’d assumed I was going to be consumed by. I shivered at the thought and tried to force it from my mind by focussing on more cheerful things.

“Before we take this any further, I believe there is the issue of payment to discuss. You mentioned that you were prepared to reward me well for my services. Plus, I have my expenses to consider. How many dollars are we talking about?”

God laughed His throaty laugh again. “Did you ever hear the expression ‘money is the root of all evil’?”

“Of course.”

“Well it’s true. You’ll have no need for money up here. Anything you could want in Heaven, from any restaurant, shop, or market, can be acquired free of charge. No, I offer you a reward far more valuable than anything money can buy. Would you like to know what it is?”

Part of me groaned inwardly. I’d heard this line far too often from potential clients who had no intention of paying. But then I reminded myself that this was God talking. Presumably He’d have something better to offer than a group hug when the job was over.

I nodded.

“I present to you the most valuable payment anyone could ever receive. An opportunity to restore your life. To right all your wrongs and fix all your mistakes. What I offer is a second chance. What do you say to that, Mr Clarenden?” He lit up another cigarette.

I mulled over God’s offer. This job was clearly not going to be a walk in the park. Even the sorts of parks I was used to walking in—with rusted-out playgrounds, weed-choked lawns, and sinister figures lurking in the shadows—seemed bright and pleasant when compared to the impenetrable shadows that God Himself couldn’t see through. And yet, the idea of a second chance was pretty alluring. After the mess I’d made of my first attempt at life, the prospect of going back to have another shot was like sweet music to my previously tone-deaf ears.

It didn’t take long for me to convince myself that the positives outweighed the negatives. Sure, I might be taking on forces beyond imagining, but it seemed worth it for a chance to fix all of my mistakes. And it only seemed fair, given I had made an awful lot of mistakes.

“I say I am at your service. The sooner I can get started, the better.”

“That’s what I like to hear. But remember, with payment comes responsibility. As I mentioned before, Heaven is a place of peace. I’ve worked long and hard to make it that way. If I find you are causing trouble and interfering with that peace, you will not only lose that second chance, but you will be off the case, permanently. Do I make myself clear?”

“As clear as the water at a beach after a shark has been spotted.”

“Splendid,” said God. He pulled on a chain that hung beside the couch. Immediately, the door opened and the tall servant reappeared. He stood by the door with a pained expression on his face, gently waving his hand in front of his nose—trying to repel the cigarette smoke while not drawing attention to the fact he was doing it.

“I have organised the rental of a small office for you,” said God. “Gabriel here will show you where it is. He will also assist you in any way possible. If there is anything you need, he’s the man to ask.”

I pointed to the servant, Gabriel, and put a finger to my lips.

“No, it’s all right,” said God. “Gabriel is to be trusted. He knows about Phil’s disappearance. But he’s the only one. Remember, no one else is to know the true nature of your presence in Heaven. No one.”

“No one will know,” I assured God.

“Good. Now go. Search Heaven for me. Find my son and bring him back to me.” And with that, God turned away and picked up His remote control again.