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A Fate Worse Than Death Page 17
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I ignored her and turned to the Devil. “How do you get from Hell into Heaven?”
“There are a couple of different ways,” he replied. “There are about twenty service shafts that my teams use when they come into Heaven on their nightly shifts.”
“And the other way?”
“What other way?” Suddenly the Devil looked more than a little nervous.
“You said there are a couple of different ways. The service shafts are one way. What’s the other one?”
“The other is my own personal passage. I use it on those rare occasions when I need to enter Heaven.”
“So tell me, where does this passage lead?”
The Devil squirmed in his seat, clearly finding the question as pleasant as a Sunday stroll in a firestorm. But here in the presence of God, lying and evasion were no longer options. “To Sally’s,” he said very softly.
I put my hand up to my ear. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you properly.”
“To Sally’s,” he repeated much more loudly. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“No, it isn’t what I wanted to hear,” I shouted back. “I have another question for you. I want to know what the security is like in those service shafts.”
“Very strict,” said the Devil emphatically. “No one passes between Heaven and Hell without me knowing.”
“That’s not true,” I said. “There’s at least one service shaft that is completely unguarded. I don’t know if it’s a disused one that’s been forgotten about, or if it’s a general reflection on your security, but I used it to get into Hell and then back to Heaven without anybody stopping me. And I’m not the only one. Other people have been using the same shaft to sneak into Heaven. Evil people with evil plans.”
“I should have guessed she was the one behind all of this,” cried Sally, pointing an accusatory finger at Jessie.
Jessie looked up. “No,” she said in a trembling voice. “It isn’t me.”
“Do you deny that you used this service shaft to sneak into Heaven?” demanded the Devil.
“No, I don’t deny that. But I just wanted to get into Heaven. I didn’t have any evil plans.”
“It’s lucky I found her out before she could get away with it,” said Sally.
“But it’s not true,” Jessie pleaded. “Tell them, Jimmy. You know it’s not true.”
“Leave her to me,” said the Devil. “I’ll deal with her.”
“Yes, but who’s going to deal with you?” I said.
Sally and the Devil both whirled to face me.
“What is that supposed to mean?” said the Devil.
“You’re not listening to me. I said that people with evil plans have been sneaking into Heaven, but I never said Jessie was one of those people. You’re quick to lay blame, but you’re not so quick when it comes to looking at the consequences of your own actions.”
“And what actions would you be talking about?” The Devil’s tone was polite, but it was about as friendly as a customs officer with a migraine.
“How are things in the garbage collection business?” I said.
“I’ve told you before, I refuse to speak about my business dealings.”
“Is that because garbage collection is no longer part of your business dealings?”
The Devil didn’t immediately reply. In the ensuing silence, God leaned forward. He’d been sitting quietly during the preceding bickering, but it seemed my last question had aroused His interest.
“What is this about garbage collection?” He asked, His gaze bouncing between the angel and the businessman.
“Just ignore him,” said Sally. “He has no idea what he’s talking about.” Still, the Devil did not speak.
“Please continue, Mr Clarenden,” said God. “Tell us all what you’ve discovered.”
“What I’ve discovered is a web of corruption that can be traced back to one business deal. I’m afraid our high-flying friend here was finding that certain enterprises had become less than profitable. The garbage collection in particular was highly problematic. Don’t try to deny it,” I added as the Devil started to protest. “I’ve seen the books, and I’ve got a very good memory. I can quote you back the figures for the last three financial years.
“But imagine if suddenly he is approached by a group of men,” I continued. “They also describe themselves as businessmen, and they say they would like to make a deal with the Devil. What better opportunity for the Devil to offload this drain on his financial resources? He agrees to sell the garbage collection to these men. Unfortunately, the Devil has no idea whom he is dealing with. There is only one sort of deal these men want to make—a deal with the Devil that the Devil cannot refuse.”
“How can you know all of this?” asked the Devil.
“Let me explain,” I said, leaning back to better enjoy the Devil’s discomfort. “Before this meeting, I’d been captured and held alongside Peter in a cell beneath the Pearly Gates. We managed to escape, partly due to the stupidity of the guard, and partly due to the fact that he had a wooden leg. As we fled from the cell, we were attacked by a small but immensely strong man. Fortunately, our combined strength was just enough to fight him off, although he did manage to inflict this injury on me with his fingernails.” I held up my arm to show the long scratch.
“Finally, we returned to Peter’s office to discover the third member of the conspiracy, and no doubt the leader—a crafty sneak with fetid breath. As I dealt with him, I noticed something small fall from his face. It was a tinted contact lens, designed to disguise the fact that his eyes were different colours.”
“Well, that is a rousing story, Mr Clarenden, and I look forward to the motion picture version,” said the Devil. “But I don’t see what any of it has to do with me.”
“I’ll tell you what it has to do with you. I know who those three men are. I can put names to each of them. The dimwit with the wooden leg is Billy Bostino. The tiny strongman with the long fingernails is Freddy Bostino. And the smart guy with the mismatched eyes and halitosis is Franky Bostino.”
“And you expect those names to mean something to us?” said Sally, forcing her eyes up to lock with mine.
“If they don’t, they will very soon. The Bostino family is only one of the cruelest, vilest, evilest criminal families in the entire history of organised crime. And Billy, Freddy, and Franky just happen to be three of the cruelest, vilest, evilest members of that family. Their appearances fit the descriptions I was given by a former employee of the family. He claimed that all three were murdered over trivialities, but let me assure you, when you’re dealing with the Bostino family, nothing is trivial.”
I paused for a moment, hoping the silence would allow my words to make an impression. Almost immediately, it was broken by Sally’s laughter.
“Do you really think you can scare us with these threats of yours? No dice, Clarenden. We’re not afraid of a handful of former thugs. No amount of name-dropping is going to hide the fact that you’re a sniveling half-wit with the deductive skills of a brain-damaged centipede. I move that we halt this ridiculous charade and find something useful for this imbecile to do.”
“Perhaps he could start on giving Heaven the clean-up it so desperately needs,” suggested the Devil. He too tried to laugh, but he sounded as convincing as an ex-politician plugging weight loss formula on late night television.
“No,” said God, and His voice rang with sudden clarity. All laughter stopped as everyone in the hall turned to Him. “I hired Mr Clarenden to do a job for me, and I’m going to make damn sure he sees it through.”
“You hired him?” Sally gasped. “But why?”
“I hired Mr Clarenden to search for my missing son.”
“Jesus?” said both Sally and the Devil.
“No,” said God. “Not Jesus. My other son. My indispensable Philip, without whom I could not possibly keep Heaven operational, as any look outside this palace will confirm. So I suggest that the two of you zip your lips and allow Mr Clarenden
to explain exactly who we are up against and what their evil plans are.”
It seemed that disagreement with God in the Heavenly Council was not an option. Neither Sally nor the Devil seemed thrilled at the idea of hearing me out, but they both nodded and turned to me. Their mouths were sealed tight. The floor was mine.
“Let me tell you about the Bostino family,” I began. “Their souls are black, but their plots are cunning. Their criminal web is so deep and tangled, it cast a shadow that not even God could see through. And so, safely hidden within that web of darkness, they’ve been plotting the ultimate takeover. A city is no longer enough. A country, even a planet, is not enough. Billy, Freddy, and Franky are just the advance troops, sent to their deaths with a specific mission. The Bostino family is moving in on Heaven.”
Sally started to open her mouth, but a look from God hastily discouraged her from making any further contribution to the conversation. I continued.
“Their plans started small—a takeover bid for a struggling business. The Devil’s garbage collection was the perfect target. All they had to do was sabotage the operation from within, then when the profits started to drop, they could move in with their offer and take the business off the Devil’s hands. There was just one obstacle. The Devil had signed an iron-clad, no exemptions contract to maintain the garbage collection. Once it became clear that the Devil had broken that contract, the Bostinos would almost certainly have been exposed—unless they acted first. If they removed the other signatory to the contract, they still had a chance to escape detection.
“This was where the unguarded service shaft came into play. The Bostinos discovered it, just as Jessie had when she entered Heaven. They took advantage of this opportunity to sneak into Heaven and kidnap the person who had signed the contract on Heaven’s behalf. And that person was God’s son, Phil.
“With Phil out of the picture, the Bostinos set their plan in motion. They began by imposing drastic conditions on the garbage collection workers, deliberately forcing them out on strike. The idea was that without any garbage collection, Heaven would soon be flooded beneath a sea of rubbish. Then, in the resulting confusion, the Bostinos could move in.”
“But that doesn’t make sense,” God protested. “Phil disappeared almost two weeks ago, but the rubbish only starting building up in the last day or so.”
“Actually, it makes complete sense. There was one other thing the Bostinos failed to take into account. One little man who cared deeply about the sort of place Heaven was, and who wouldn’t tolerate even the smallest piece of rubbish on its streets. Raphael saw what was happening before anybody else and took immediate action.”
“If he saw what was happening, why didn’t he say anything?” said God. “It might have saved us all this trouble.”
I couldn’t help laughing at that. “Every time Raphael tried to say anything, you were all washing your hair or mowing your lawns or changing channels on your televisions. When Raphael saw the rubbish accumulating on the street, he did what he always did when something needed to be done. He got off his backside and did all the tidying himself, filling dozens of garbage bags every day. It began to look like his actions alone would be enough to thwart the Bostinos.
“But those hoodlums weren’t going to be discouraged so easily. The next step was an easy one. A little guy like Raphael was never going to be a match for the Bostinos, and soon he too disappeared. With Phil and Raphael gone, there was no one else to interfere with their plan, and the result is obvious to everyone. Heaven has become one giant rubbish tip.”
Once again, silence fell over the great hall. Once again, Sally was the one who broke it. She stood up, pointing that accusatory finger again. But just for a change, it wasn’t directed at either Jessie or me.
“This is your fault,” she screamed in the Devil’s face. “Thanks to you, our glorious kingdom has been turned into a sewer. You broke the contract. You sold your soul for a lousy, stinking profit.”
The Devil immediately returned fire. “I didn’t hear you complaining about it back then. I seem to recall you were more than happy to receive the fruits of that profit.”
“Well, you can have your rotten things back. I never liked them much anyway.” Sally began ripping off earrings, necklaces, and other sundry accoutrements, and hurling them at the Devil. He held up his arms to ward off the assault and pleaded for her to stop, but it was another voice that finally brought her bejeweled barrage to a halt.
“Cease this foolishness at once!” God roared.
Sally and the Devil fell back to their seats. The look he gave her would have pierced armour. The look she shot back would have busted bunkers.
Satisfied that the outburst was over, God turned back to me. “So you have explained both my son’s and Raphael’s disappearances, but how does the kidnapping of Peter tie in?”
“That was the next stage of their plan,” I said. “With Heaven thrown into disarray by the growing sea of garbage, the Bostinos became much bolder. Already, Franky had been able to infiltrate Peter’s operation. Once Peter was out of the way, the Bostinos could commandeer the most critical strategic target in all of Heaven. Seizing control over the Pearly Gates gave them the power to decide who got into Heaven, which was exactly what they needed if their boss was going to come in and take over.”
“Which boss are you talking about?” asked God.
“Tommy Bostino, the head of the Bostino family. Tommy is the mastermind behind all of their criminal enterprises. Compared to him, Billy, Freddy, and Franky are a trio of boy scouts. But now Tommy’s a sick old man. He can hear the bells tolling and he knows that the time for judgment is drawing near. As long as Peter was guarding the Gates, there was no way he’d get through. But with Peter safely locked away and the Bostino brothers in charge of the entrance into Heaven, Tommy’s successful passage would be assured. And if Tommy Bostino made it into Heaven—all I can say is, God help you all.”
“What do you mean by that?” said God. There was a quaver in His voice, and behind those bushy eyebrows I could see the fear rising in His eyes.
“Let me tell you what Heaven would be like once the Bostinos took over. There’d be no more lazy sunny afternoons in the park, and you can forget about those evenings of serene contemplation. Heaven would no longer be a place of peace and tranquility. Everything here would be turned over to one simple purpose—the total gratification of the Bostino family.
“Imagine this majestic structure turned into the Bostinos’ mega-gambling palace.” I turned to Sally. “Imagine your mansion converted into their house of pleasure, and you forced to submit to their every whim.” Finally, I looked across to the Devil. “And think what will happen to your precious profits once the Bostinos start taking out their share.”
“I’d like to see them try,” muttered the Devil. “I’ve got a black belt in taekwondo.”
“You won’t be landing too many kicks when every bone in your body is broken,” I snapped back. “Face it, none of you can possibly imagine what life under the Bostinos would be like. But I don’t have to imagine it. I’ve been there. And let me tell you, Hell is a quiet picnic on a green meadow beside a slow-running brook compared to what Heaven would become.”
No one said anything. They all looked at me with eyes as wide and round as circus big tops, and mouths that were even wider. It looked like my words were sinking in at last.
“Is there any way we can defeat these mobsters?” asked God eventually.
“I’ve already taken the first steps. Peter has closed the Gates, and Billy, Freddy, and Franky are safely locked away. But that won’t be enough. There will be other plans. The Bostinos are ruthless. Once they set their sights on something, they won’t stop until it’s theirs. I’m afraid there’s nothing more I can do. The rest is up to you.”
“To me?” God seemed to be shrinking down into His seat.
“You’re the only one with the power to defeat the Bostinos. The future of Heaven is in your hands and your hands alone.”
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All attention in the room was focused on God. For a moment, He cowered in His chair. Eventually, He came to a decision. He did the only thing possible under the circumstances. He took out a cigarette and placed it to His lips.
The Devil leapt from his seat. “That’s your solution to everything, isn’t it. As soon as the pressure is on, light up a cigarette. Well, let me tell you, God, it’s time you faced up to your responsibilities.”
Sally was also on her feet. “How can you possibly be so selfish? Your entire kingdom is at stake, and all you can do is look after your own needs.”
They advanced towards God, their fingers stabbing towards Him, and their screeching voices demanding He take action. God looked from one to the other, desperately trying to avoid their glowering eyes. Finally, He managed to tear His gaze free and look towards me. As our eyes met, I spoke.
“Just this once, I find myself in agreement with Punch and Judy here. The time for hiding is long past. It’s time to act.”
“But I don’t know how. I do so hate to get involved these days.”
“It’s too late for that. You’re as involved as anyone. You have to do something, and you have to do it right now.”
Seeing that helplessness wasn’t working, God switched to sulkiness. “That’s right. Throw the burden onto me. Leave it to me to solve everything. What do you expect? Do you think I’m all-powerful?”
“Actually, I thought you were.”
“I am all-powerful,” God said quietly, as if He needed to convince Himself. “I am all-powerful,” He repeated more forcefully. “I am all-powerful,” He roared, lifting Himself from His chair like a rising storm surge.
“That’s more like it,” I said. “So what are you going to do now?”
“I will smite the Bostinos. I shall rip them from the face of the earth and send them down into the deepest pits of Hell, where they will meet a fate far worse than death.”
God closed His eyes and raised His arms. For a moment, the room shook, and I swore I could hear the rumble of thunder very far away. Then His body relaxed and His eyes flickered open.