How do you prosecute the Lord God for murder?

“As long as you’re not investigating the Hancock Towers case?”

“Absolutely not, sir,” lied Clary as we sat near the front of the viewing room.

We continued wisecracking as Max took the memory cards from the mobile phones and prepared them for viewing on the large, white screen.

The first few videos were too blurred or only showed Suzi Ollerenshaw and her group on stage, making Clary complain about movie shorts.

“And they’re not even three stooges,” I quipped.

Then finally we found what we were looking for.   A clear video of Suzi and the exploding cake and the black vampire, which had flown from the cake just before Hancock Towers had imploded.   Except the vampire was not black, it was a sort of yellow-golden colour, and, of course, it was not really a vampire.

*       *        *

So, as they say, the case was solved, but with no one to arrest.   No one we possibly could arrest.   Deni Anders had been an accomplice of sorts, but even with the memory card evidence we would have been laughed out of court with what we would have had to accuse her of.

So the case was officially marked closed, just like that.   And no one was ever brought to trial.   For a few months Australia remained free of organised crime, but eventually, as Clary had predicted the space left by the deaths of Jonas Harkness and Reynard Laughlin was filled by crims from Sicily, the U.S.A., China, Russia, Japan, the U.K., et cetura.

After that I tried to forget about Hancock Towers, forget the exploding cardboard birthday cake, forget the giant golden vampire, and even forget Suzi Ollerenshaw and God’s Chicks.   Until a year or so later, Clary and I were part of the police protection at another hood’s convention.

Out onto the stage, the MC announced the special guest for the evening, and out strolled Suzi Ollerenshaw and her girls.   The innocent looking pixie-cut brunette strolled up to the mike and began to bellow:

“I went down to Rock-and-Roll He-ell

“I went down to Rock-and-Roll He-ell

“I met the Devil, my soul to sal-alve

“I met the Devil, my soul to sal-alve

“Yes, I went down-

“I went down-

“I went down to Rock-

“And-Roll He-ell-ell-ell-ell-ell-ell-ell-ell-ell-ell!”

As she shrieked the final, extended, “Hell,” I saw Clary grimace and I think we both recalled that moment our own personal glimpse of Hell.

Or was it a glimpse of Heaven?

*       *        *

As I said earlier, the first few mobile phone videos had been blurred or had only shown Suzi Ollerenshaw and God’s Chicks.

Then we had come to the first of a number of relatively clear vids, which all showed the same thing.

“Hold onto your hats,” said Max, the chief technician, “I think the main feature is about to start.”

And even as he spoke the cardboard birthday cake exploded and from its centre soared out what on the night had looked like a giant black vampire in the poor lighting.   In the video it looked like a human being.   But a human being able to hover above the cake, within a blinding golden-yellow light.   Light which seemed to originate from the creature itself.

“It can’t be what it…?” said Mavis, leaving the statement unfinished.

“It … It is … I think,” said Max.

In fact there was no doubt of what we were seeing.   Glowing with a yellow-golden aura, the manlike creature held up its arms as though calling to the Lord.   And from his arms projected two large, glowing golden wings.   Like the wings of a dove.

“What is it?   An angel?” asked Mavis, immediately staring down at her feet in embarrassment.   Although she had articulated all our thoughts.

“It can’t be … it…?” I muttered.   Despite my faith in the Lord God Above, I had never really believed that I could see an angel this side of the afterlife.

Then the angel, turned to face us, making us gasp and almost faint, at the sight of the gaunt features of our dead friend, Tony Anders, staring down at us.

“Tony … it can’t be…?” started Clary.

“It is.   I am Tony.   Or rather I am an angel that was Tony Anders,” explained the angel, speaking to us in real time, out of the video clip somehow.

“But … but how…?” asked Mavis.   Either asking how he had returned as an angel; or how he could speak to us now from a video filmed weeks ago.

“After the Great Flood,” explained the angel, “The Lord said that he would never again interfere in the day-to-day workings of Man.   But recently the Australian underworld had become too evil.   My crucifixion on orders of Harkness and Laughlin was the final straw for the Lord God Above.

“So he sent me back to Earth as an Avenging Angel of Death, to wipe out Harkness, Laughlin and their gangs.   But with strict orders only to kill the evil.   The Lord God Himself ensured that none of the innocent died when Hancock Towers came down.”

We talked to the angel – I cannot think of it as Tony Anders – for another hour or more.   But nothing else needs to be recorded here.   As Clary had asked earlier, “How the Hell do we arraign the Lord God Above.”   And for that matter how do you arrest the Lord God’s Avenging Angel of Death – particularly when it is speaking to you from a time capsule from the past?

So, the case was marked, “Closed,” and sealed never to be re-opened, by the Chief Commissioner himself.

THE END

© Copyright 2012

Philip Roberts, Melbourne, Australia

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