[ TT ] You are a recently deceased detective . God took you early as he has need of you . For the first time ever , there has been a murder in heaven .

`` **WHY! ** You bastard, I have to know **why**!'' 
 
 There are not many souls who speak to the Archangel Gabriel thus on the day of their death. Then again, it is most unusual for a soul to be denied his Last Judgment, pressed into service in a murder case, and told that his death was ordered by God Himself. 
 
 `` Murder is a sin. There is no sin in Heaven. So when there is a murder in Heaven, we need someone who understands it.'' 
 
 *'' But I have a family! `` * The detective appeared young, fit, healthy, full of life - the usual for Heaven, but in this case, also the way he had looked on Earth. 
 
 `` You had a family. Now you have a new mission.'' 
 
 `` When will I see my wife? My kids?'' 
 
 *'' They neither marry nor are given in marriage, but are like angels in heaven,'' * the Angel intoned. 
 
 `` Damn you! This is horrible! This is no Heaven!'' 
 
 `` Ordinary,'' the Angel said, `` you would go to Processing. For what is sinful in you, Processing is the searing fires of Hell, burning it away and destroying it. For what is good in you, Processing is the cool water of Lethe, washing away your sufferings and worries and leaving you free to be what you were meant to be, enjoying the virtues you have cultivated but none of the vices. Heaven is only Heaven for the heavenly.'' 
 
 The Angel paused to think. 
 
 `` But Processing would prevent you from understanding a murder. So for you it has been... delayed. Your status is unique, and temporary. In Heaven we have many powers to rewrite the laws of nature, but God has not granted us the power to rewrite the laws of logic.'' 
 
 When Jeff caved it was abrupt and permanent. He was, after all, a creature of authority. `` I apologize, sir. I will solve your murder, and then I hope you might grant me a request.'' 
 
 But he spoke to empty air. Gabriel, like all satisfied Angels, had removed himself from view. 
 
 * * * * * 
 
 It was hard to say whether he had moved or drifted or teleported or was dreaming. The scene of the murder was in a run-down town house in Philadelphia. Jeff knew the neighborhood right off - it was on his beat, down to the liquor store on the corner. But there was something strange in the air. It was cool, warm, soft, empty... quiet. There was no traffic, not a car in sight. But there was a sound... singing, in the distance. 
 
 Jeff ignored it. There was blood spatter on the mattress, a bullet hole in the ceiling. *Little use to try this without forensics*, he thought. He wondered what heavenly coroner might be examining the corpse. He reached down and was surprised. Not only did he have his uniform... he had his gun. *If this was a world without sin, would he be expected to dispatch the killer? * 
 
 The only way to solve this case was going to be like in the real world. Talk to people. Bring them down to the station. Sweat it out of them. He walked down the steps and headed for the music. 
 
 ( to be continued... ) 
 
 Edit: Got protagonist's name wrong at the end. *Oops*. I suck at names.
