Waiting for Godalming

19

We headed back to my office, Icarus, Johnny Boy, Captain Ian and I. We took a taxi, I recall, and the cabbie told us all about the knowledge. I don’t remember too much about what he said, but I’m damn sure he was wrong about the route to Heartbreak Hotel.

Once we were safely back in my office, I leaned my butt on my desk.

“OK,” said I, with more suavity than a Swiss sword-swallower in a Swedish swivel chair. “I guess you’d like me to explain it all to you.”

Heads nodded all round, as they generally do when I ask a question like that.

“The first thing you have to understand is that Colin did not put the hit out on his old man.”

“He didn’t?” said Johnny Boy. “But he was the prime suspect.”

“Little guy,” said I, “this isn’t some episode of Columbo. In the world of Lazlo Woodbine, it is never the prime suspect.”

“I knew that,” said Icarus.

“Well you never told me,” said Johnny Boy.

“Might I continue?” I enquired, with more retort than a Reigate squire on a cardboard box in Carfax.

Heads nodded all round again and I was set into telling of my tale. “It wasn’t Colin and it wasn’t Eartha.”

“Eartha?” said Icarus.

“Put a sock in it, kid. Eartha was number one on my list. She called me in to search for Her missing husband. I figured that She wouldn’t have done that unless She cared about him. Unless, on the other hand that rocks the cradle, She wanted evidence for a divorce. Which She didn’t, because God had got up to His capers with the Jewish girls before and She’s taken him back every time. So, at the start off, I figured She cared. But. She shows up at my office, less than an hour after He’s copped it, with the will in Her hand and She’s hardly the grieving widow. She doesn’t show a flicker of emotion on that plug-ugly puss of Hers. And that made me suspicious. She’s got the will and the will fingers Colin. I tell Her that. But She doesn’t care about that either. It seems that She’s happy to have Colin put in the frame. And as investigations prove that Colin is running the Ministry of Serendipity, an organization dedicated to dumbing down the public — thumbing down the public in fact — to keep them unaware that demons and angels are walking on the face of the Earth, it looks like Colin all the way. And it seems that Colin’s mum doesn’t give a flea’s fart about him either. To me it all smells worse than a Baskerville do-do in a devil’s footbath. But, like I say, it wasn’t Her.”

“So who was it?” said Icarus.

“Well, it wasn’t Colin and it wasn’t Eartha and it wasn’t even Captain Ian here.”

“Me?” said Captain Ian. “You thought it might have been me?”

“Sure, guy, I had you right up there on my list. Icarus goes to the movies a lot, he’ll tell you how it works. There’s only ever a limited number of suspects. And you get to meet them all early on in the plot. Like Cormerant, right? You tipped me off when you told me that Jesus could be seen on TV, but you weren’t at liberty to divulge his identity. You knew I’d take a hint and watch TV and you knew I’d see your brother being interviewed. You led me right to him.”

“His brother?” said Icarus.

“Sure, his brother,” said I. “Don’t you realize who this guy really is?”

“He’s an angel,” said Johnny Boy.

“He’s Jesus Christ,” said I.

There was a bit of a silence then, but I could live with that.

“Jesus Christ!” said Johnny Boy. “I mean … well … Jesus Christ!”

“Please don’t,” said Captain Ian. “No matter how people say my name, it always sounds like swearing.”

“But I mean … well … you are …” Johnny Boy dropped down to his knees, though the change in height was negligible.

“How did you know, Mr Woodentop?”

I let that one pass, because after all, he was the Lord. “I wouldn’t have guessed,” said I, “if it hadn’t been for Barry. He was stopping the effects of the Red Head drug working on me and he had to be doing that for a good reason. He knew that with the help of the drug I could solve the case and he wanted me to solve the case, but I figured that you’d tipped Barry the wink to stop me from seeing who you really were.”

“But we couldn’t see him for who he really is,” said Icarus. “And we still can’t. I mean, well, sir, you just look like an angel to me. No offence meant, of course.”

“None taken, I assure you,” said the Lord.

“He does look like an angel,” said I. “But an angel with a golden sword. Check out a copy of the Bibliomystikon[18] ‘And the Lord of Hosts shall come amongst them and slay them with a sword of gold.’ It ain’t your regular practice for angels.”

“You certainly know your occult scripture,” said Jesus.

“Lord,” I told him, “in my business, knowing your occult scripture can mean the difference between singing a psalm at a Sunday school clam-bake and spearing a clam with a jaded jackeroo. If you know what I mean and if you don’t, who does?”

“You have me on that one,” said Jesus. “But it wasn’t me who murdered my father. So just who was it?”

“Well, it wasn’t your sister Christene, either.”

“Actually I thought it might have been,” said Jesus.

“His sister?” said Icarus. “Where does his sister come into this?”

“Philomena Christina Maria O’Connor,” said I. “The dame with the dangerous digits. She was in cahoots with Colin. More of that sibling rivalry, you see. Mr Christ here, the elder son, got all the glory. Barry told me how he had his sister edited out of the New Testament. Because he had full editorial control. And they’d stopped writing Bibles by the time that Colin came along, so he never got a mention anywhere. The Godalmings are a very dysfunctional family. There’s a lot of jealousy going on there. The same as in any other family, I guess.”

“I tried to be nice,” said Jesus. “I always try to be nice. I’m noted for it.”

“It’s not your fault, Lord. Well, some of it is. But let’s just have a suspect head-count here. It wasn’t Colin and it wasn’t Eartha and it wasn’t Jesus and it wasn’t Christene.”

“So it was Cormerant,” said Icarus. “He was, after all, the devil incarnate.”

“Right up there in my listings,” said I, cooler than a catechumen at a canon’s coffee morning. “Along with Fangio for a while; you can never trust a skinny guy. But no, my friend, it wasn’t even Cormerant.”

There was a lot of sighing then and a fair bit of scratching at heads.

“So who was it?” Icarus shouted.

“It wasn’t anybody,” I said. “Because God wasn’t murdered. God isn’t dead.”

“WHAT?” they all went, and very loudly too.

“He isn’t dead,” I said. “The whole thing was a scam. A set-up from the beginning. Jesus here gave it away when he told us all about how God had to take out mortgage after mortgage on Heaven and Hell until He ran out of money. I figured, how had He done that? He’d have had to have taken out life insurance, right? A whole lot of life insurance, to cover all those extra mortgages. And who wouldn’t insure God’s life? The guy’s eternal, right? A pretty safe bet. But what if God was to die and His wife cashed in His life insurance policies to pay off all the debts and reclaim Heaven and Hell? If He faked His own death, everything would get sorted.”

“It makes some kind of sense,” said Icarus.

“Pray continue with your most interesting narrative, Mr Woodbine,” said Johnny Boy.

“I was set up,” said I. “From the very beginning. I was diverted away from the briefcase case, because I would have found things out in the wrong order. Barry told me all about how God had this thing about Jewish virgins, so I head off to the Crimson Teacup, where God conveniently shows up and then conveniently gets shot in an alleyway, right in front of my eyes.

“Making me the star witness. And what an unimpeachable witness, the greatest private eye of them all, in the pay of a most illustrious client, to wit, the wife of God. She was in on it with Him, as if you hadn’t guessed.”

“I hadn’t,” said Johnny Boy.

“I’m losing the plot here,” said Icarus. “I’m becoming confused.”

“Try to keep up, kid. It’s all pretty simple. Well, at least it is for me. So I’m right there, right? At the right place at the right time to witness the murder of God. And it might have worked too, if I hadn’t gone back disguised as a reporter and been recognized by Sam Maggot and bopped on the head. I’d have fingered Colin for sure, which was what his mum intended. But I wouldn’t have been able to prove it, so he would have walked free. So God’s wife would have got the money. Colin would have got the Earth and I’d have probably ended up in the fiery place without a sweet thank you for being such a sucker.”

“But there is no Hell any more,” said Icarus.

“Yeah, but there will be again, kid. As soon as Eartha gets the money and pays off all God’s debts, Heaven and Hell will be back on the go and all will be right with the world once more.”

“Explain about the video footage,” said Icarus. “We all saw that. We all saw God getting murdered.”

“We saw what God wanted us to see. Or rather what He wanted the insurance company to see. It would look pretty kosher through angelic eyes. They’d see two demons shooting God dead then me dealing death out to the demons. What with that, and my testimony and the weather going mad, what more proof would they need?”

“A body?” said Icarus.

“Yeah,” said I. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But would they really expect God’s widow to let them view the body of God? Especially as He died in such shady circumstances. His reputation would have to be kept intact. He was God, for God’s sake. When I was in that alleyway, I saw what God wanted me to see. And on the tape the angelic insurance assessors would see what God wanted them to see. Ordinary folk would see what I saw when I saw the tape for the first time. Me shooting two innocent guys. But after I’d taken the drug and Barry let the effect kick in, I played that tape again and again and I saw something more. I fast-forwarded the tape and after the bit where I fall to my knees and sully my trenchcoat and then I get up and walk from the alley with all the wild weather and everything, there’s a bit more. You have to look real close, with a true professional’s eye. But you can just make out through all the wind and rain and storm, God getting to His feet and sneaking away.”

“What?” went Icarus and Johnny Boy and Captain Ian Christ as well. “You saw that?”

“I guess Eartha would have wiped that bit off the tape before She showed it to the insurance company.”

“So that’s it,” said Icarus, shaking his head. “You actually solved it. You solved the greatest case that ever there was.”

“Who else but me, kid? But the sadness of it is that nobody is ever going to know.”

“Why not?” asked Icarus. “I don’t understand.”

“Kid,” I said, “what did you want more than anything else in this world?”

“For everything to be put right,” said Icarus. “That was my dream, my vocation. To put the world to rights.”

“And the only way that the world can be put to rights is if all the angels and demons who fight it out down here and get mankind into a lot of sticky situations go back to where they belong. To wit, Heaven and Hell. And the only way that is going to happen is for us to keep our big mouths shut, pretend that God is dead and let Eartha pick up on the insurance. She pays off God’s debts and the world is put to rights. Am I right, or am I right?”

“You’re right,” said Icarus.

“And as no-one else on Earth but us knows anything about this, they won’t know that God’s insurance company thinks God is dead. They’ll still go on worshipping Him and God, wherever He happens to be, will be happy to let them do it. Things will be a lot better on Earth. There’ll be an afterlife once more, the good people will go to the good place when they die and the bad ones will go to the bad place. And that’s why I can never take the credit for solving the greatest case that there ever was.”

“He’s right,” said Jesus. “That’s how it has to be.”

“But it’s …” Icarus threw up his hands. “It’s dishonest. I thought that God was all good.”

“I think we’ve all had enough theology for one day,” said Johnny Boy. “Let’s just settle for this as a happy ending.”

“Yeah,” said I. “Well you would say that, wouldn’t you?”

“I just did say it,” said Johnny Boy.

“You know,” said I, with more gravitas than a gut-shot gunman at a herring-gutters’ ball. “You got me thinking back there, on the rooftop. I really couldn’t understand just how it was that you didn’t die up there.”

“A happy happenstance,” said Johnny Boy. “All’s well that ends well. Isn’t it?”

“Oh, please,” said I. “I’ve come this far, I’ve worked the lot of it out. You wouldn’t deny me a little bit of glory, seeing as how I can never ever talk about this case.”

“Eh?” said Icarus. “What’s all this?”

“Ask Johnny Boy,” said I.

Johnny Boy grinned. “Go on then,” he said to me. “Do it.”

I reached down to him and with more panache than a pool-shark on the poop deck of a Pooh-Bah’s paddleboat, I took hold of his hair and ripped off his wig and his mask.

To reveal the face of …

Yes, you’ve guessed it.

No you haven’t? Then let me tell you.

The face of Richard E. Grant himself.

Otherwise known as God.

“Dad!” said Jesus. “It’s you! You’ve shrunk.”

“I’ve always been a master of disguise, my boy.”

“No,” said Icarus. “This can’t be happening. It can’t.”

The face of Richard E. Grant smiled handsomely up at Icarus Smith. “It can be,” said He. “And it is.”

“No,” said Icarus, and tears were in his eyes once more. “No, it’s not fair. It can’t be.”

“I know,” said God. “You feel cheated, don’t you? Cheated and deceived. You feel now that you really didn’t do anything. That I helped you out every step of the way. But I didn’t, you know. You did it all yourself.”

“No,” said Icarus. “I didn’t. You did. From the very first time I met you. It was you all along. You helped me at Professor Partington’s. When you opened the shed door and the breeze blew the map pieces conveniently into place. And in the pub, when I threw the tablet into the air and said ‘Let’s leave it to fate’ and the tablet fell straight down my throat. You did it. And you’ve done it again and again. I trusted you. I thought you were my friend. But I was nothing to you. Just another pawn in your game.”

“Hey, kid,” I said. “I’d ease up if I were you. This is God you’re talking to, you know.”

“Hm,” said Icarus, biting his lip.

“Best show a little respect, eh?”

“It’s all right,” said God. “I understand. After all, I understand everything. That’s what being God is all about. It’s just that I’ve never been too good with money. And I did marry a wife who made a lot of demands. She never really understood me, you see. But listen, Icarus, I might have helped you out a little. But I did it because I was acting as your Holy Guardian Angel. Lazlo had Barry and you had me.”

“You made a fool of me,” said Icarus.

“No, my boy. I just helped you to achieve your ambitions. Getting all the angels and demons back where they belong, that is the ultimate piece of relocation work. And you played a major role in doing that. Why, if you hadn’t released Lazlo from the psychiatric hospital …”

“You talked me into that!”

“Details, details,” said God. “Always details. You played your part and you did your bit and it has brought you and your brother back together again.”

“That kid is no brother of mine,” I told God.

God raised an eyebrow.

“Whatever you say, sir,” said I. “But he ain’t.”

God smiled and tipped me the wink. “Right,” said He. “Well, everything seems to be tied up, with no loose ends. There will be a knock coming on your door in just a few minutes. It will be my, er, widow. And by the by, Mr Woodbine, you did get one thing wrong. She doesn’t know. She really thinks I’m dead. Ours wasn’t exactly what you’d call a happy marriage. She’s not a very caring woman, my wife. I gave her the world, literally, but it wasn’t enough. She didn’t care about me and she didn’t care about Colin. Mind you, he was an evil little wretch and he was going to sell the world off to the devil, which really wasn’t playing the game. I wrote my will to implicate him in my murder, but I knew he’d walk free. I thought it would be a good laugh to see him and my wife arguing over who really owned the world. I’m sorry he’s dead, of course, but then accidents will happen.”

Icarus opened his mouth to speak, but then thought better of it.

“So, I’ll be leaving you now,” said God. “I know I can trust you to do the right thing and sell the story of my murder to my wife. We all want the same thing, don’t we? The angels back in Heaven and the demons back in Hell.”

I nodded and Icarus nodded. And Jesus nodded too.

“I’ll be glad to get back to Heaven,” said Jesus. “You can’t get a decent haircut down here.”

“And I did like you, Icarus,” said God. “I do like you. It was great to be your friend.”

“It was great to be yours,” said Icarus. “You were like a brother to me.”

“And it was never dull. I really enjoyed that bit when you used the spectremeter to make it appear that the professor’s Ford Fiesta was still going round and round the multi-storey car park. That was really clever of you. I liked that.”

“Thanks,” said Icarus.

“So, good luck to you, my boy. You’ll do all right for yourself. Although I’d advise you to find yourself a new vocation. Relocation can be a dangerous profession. But you’ll succeed, I know you will. You have my word on that.”

“Thanks again,” said Icarus.

“Well, I must be leaving you now,” said God. “I have a hot date at the Crimson Teacup, and it would be rude to keep a lady waiting. So I’ll say goodbye for now. Goodbye and God bless.”

And with a wink and a wave and a nod and a grin, He vanished.

Just like that.

“I think I’d better be leaving too,” said Jesus. “I’ve never been too good at lying to my step-mum. She doesn’t care too much for me, you know.”

And he gave a nod and a wink and a wave.

And then he vanished too.

I looked at Icarus.

And Icarus looked at me.

“That just leaves the two of us, kid,” said I.

And then there came a knock knock knocking at my office door and I could see a big fat shadow on the frosted glass.

“I think you’d better leave all the talking to me, kid,” I said. “This will be my last bow. I’ve solved my final problem. After I’ve talked to the dame, Lazlo Woodbine Investigations is shutting up shop for good and all. I’ve had enough of this business.”

Icarus smiled and stuck out his hand for a shake.

“You’re a hero, brother,” he said. “Put it there.”

I smiled back at the kid in the way that only Woodbine can do.

And then I shook my brother by the hand.