by Robin Ray
CHAPTER 34
What the hell? Tony thought, stirring from a much-needed beauty sleep. What time is it? Pressing a button on his watch, he focused his weary eyes on the holographic time that rose out of it. 11AM? And what is that noise? Dragging himself out of bed, he post-hangoverly entered his living room, bee-lined straight to the windows and parted the opaque curtains with his still-bandaged hands.
“EVERY ANGEL MUST REPENT! BRIAN JONES IS INNOCENT!”
Now what? the novice PI asked himself, staring at the marching throng passing by his window. About 100 angry protesters, their fists in the air, were following a huge banner which read “FREE BRIAN JONES”. Another wonderful day in the neighborhood, the young sleuth reckoned. I’d better get dressed and see what’s the dilly.
Traipsing alongside the group minutes later, Tony asked a protester why the commotion?
“It’s those damn angels,” the bearded protester yelled. “They know ain’t no one of us can get our hands on dope. It’s a cover up.”
“Who do you suspect is behind this?”
“You got me,” the protester admitted, “but I won’t be surprised if it ain’t Vai.”
“Vai?”
“Dragon Lady, man,” the angry fist-pumper stated. “Really powerful. She makes these angels look like Barney & Friends. I’ve heard that whenever she gets ready to do an inspection, she goes out of her way to make sure something is amiss in the heavens she visits because she likes to throw her weight around.”
“Boss of the angels, huh?” Tony asked. “So, what does she have to gain by sabotaging a heaven? And why?”
“The same reasons the police don’t really want you to stop crime,” he replied. “No criminals, no cops. Vai is scared to death about ending up in Hell. Not because she hates it there, but because of her pride. She’s thinks she’s too high a rank to go down to those decrepit levels. Those underworld angels would torment her for centuries, and she ain’t having that. If there’s some huge shake up or disturbance in this heaven, she’ll be needed to identify and correct it. Vai’s just looking out for herself; she made Brian Jones the scapegoat.”
“Wow,” the new detective nodded. “So Vai has a supervisor she’s scared of?”
“That’s part of it,” the protester acknowledged. “The other thing is she wants to achieve Nirvana like the humans, but angels can’t do that. After millions of years they return to indiscriminate matter, and she’s not having that, either. She wants to go all the way.”
“I didn’t think Heaven would be so…difficult,” Tony admitted.
“Yes,” the protester agreed. “If you’d known what it was like up here, if anyone knew what it was like up here, they’d ask themselves, ‘Am I sure I want to go to Heaven?’ I can just image what the responses would be.”
“So where are you guys headed now?”
“The jail,” he answered. “That’s where they’re keeping Brian.”
“How come?”
“They’re scared we’ll free him from the hospital.”
“Okay,” the budding PI said. “Well, I’m with you guys, but I have to catch up with my partner, Gregory.”
“No problem,” the protester said. “Take care.”
“Thanks. I will.”
“Wat up, G?”
It didn’t take long for Young Tony Lopez, PI in training, to run into his partner. Gregory was busy interviewing protesters in front of the police station, trying to get their take on the unusual circumstances engulfing Heaven as of late. So far, the protests have been relatively peaceful, but like the weather, it’s subject to change.
“What happened to you?” the elder PI wondered, gazing at his assistant’s bandaged hands.
“Tony, meet sidewalk,” he answered. “Sidewalk, Tony.”
“Who introduced you two?”
“Corn syrup mead.”
“Never drank it,” Gregory admitted. “Must be real strong to do all this, though. How’s it going with you and Blondie?”
“He stayed behind in Painters,” the greenhorn sleuth regretted to say.
“Sorry about that, pal,” Gregory said. “I know how that feels.”
“Eh,” Tony shrugged. “It was doomed from the get go. So, how’s the investigation going? Any new leads?”
“Let’s walk,” the elder PI suggested.
“People are pretty hush-hush up here,” Gregory said as they strolled up Rock City Road. “They live in fear of an angel named Vai.”
“Yeah,” Tony said, “I heard about her. Could be an exaggeration, too.”
“Maybe,” Gregory submitted, “but it’s making my work that much harder with everyone clamming up like that.”
“Afternoon,” Tony said, greeting a trio of monks who just ambled past. The ascetics nodded and kept walking towards the center of town. “You notice that?” the young PI asked his trainer. “They’re not carrying their bowls. Maybe they’re going to get involved in the protests.”
“Monks in a protest always goes sideways,” Gregory felt. “These guys take their frustration to the extreme and self-immolate.”
“I know,” Tony said. “I’ve seen the pictures, like, in Vietnam.”
“What’s that?” Gregory asked suddenly, his attention momentarily diverted.
“What?” the young PI quizzed him.
“Down there,” the ex-cop mumbled, squinting to ascertain what his eyes were seeing some 200 feet away. Abandoning the road, he entered a sprawling meadow and headed straight to a wooden shed; Tony, staying close behind, tried to see what his partner was looking for. “You see that glow?” Gregory said as he picked up his pace towards the shed.
“What is that? A fire?” Tony asked.
“I don’t know,” his hurrying partner panted.
“I see it!” the young sleuth shouted. “It’s going behind the shed.”
Racing towards the back of the shed, the two D’s caught a glimpse of what resembled a human figure completely enshrouded by a glowing amber mist, then poof, the image vanished.
“What was that?” Tony asked rhetorically.
“I don’t have a clue,” Gregory admitted as they surveyed the area of the meadow where the apparition had been. “Look at the ground here,” he told his partner. “Nothing’s singed, no sign there was a fire.”
“Maybe it wasn’t smoke from a fire,” Tony guessed. “I don’t even feel any heat.”
“Pretty bizarre,” the elder detective admitted. “I wonder what’s in here?” he asked, motioning to the shed.
“Only one way to find out.”
Going around to the front of the shed, Gregory pulled the wooden door open.
“Just tools,” Tony noted as they entered the semi-dark enclosure. “Spades, shovels, rakes…gardening stuff.”
“Damn it!” Gregory shouted, smacking his hands together.
“What’s the matter?” the young PI asked.
“I forgot these watches have a camera,” he conceded. “We could’ve photographed whatever that thing was and analyzed it later.”
“So, what do you want to do now, G?” the youngster asked.
“I don’t know,” Gregory admitted. “Seems like we’re just spinning our wheels.”
“Wanna go see what’s doing with the protest?”
“May as well,” the seasoned detective groaned. “I want to get something to eat, too. I’m famished.”