It was late and the phone rang which was a bit of a surprise as I didn't have one. I called Telecom and fixed this immediately, then answered the call.

It was the Pope. He was concerned. I knew he was concerned because he tried to break the ice with the "Vat 69" joke, which was in it's 80th year and still didn't get a laugh no matter how pissed you got.

He wanted me to do a job for him. It was obvious where he got my name, Father Tim had been taping the confessionals again for income when he left the priesthood, and somehow the Big Guy had got hold of them. I made a mental note to give Father Tim and impromptu lead-host communion when I had a free night.

Of course the pope had me over a barrel like a 3 month sailor, so I was going to have to do the job.

It was a small affair he said - all he wanted was Mother Theresa's head on a plate. Apparently she was too good as a role model, and the children of today needed some reachable plateau of goodness to aspire to. He'd lined up Madonna (the new one) and Charles Manson in a rush as he couldn't afford the transfer fee he'd have to pay the US for Pol Pot.

So he wanted a quiet job, 6 or 7 bullets in the back of the head, make it Look like an accident. Then plant the drugs on her so he could frame her for the Bolivian situation.

Smart Move.

I left as soon as I could by third world airlines ("We fly as much of you as we can to your destination") and met my contact at the airport, Cardinal Melons. It was a strange name for an Airport, but there you go. My contact's name was Heathrow Gatwick, and he had a British accent to prove it. He handed me the drugs, the tapes and the money, and pointed me in the right direction...

WHAT WILL HAPPEN? WILL MOTHER THERESA REALLY BE GUNNED DOWN IN COLD BLOOD? DID I WRITE MYSELF COMPLETELY INTO A CORNER WITH SENSELESS DRIVEL? WHO REALLY WAS CARDINAL MELONS, AND WHY DID HE NOT SAY HE WAS AN AIRPORT? wHO CARES, I'M WARMING UP.