Chapter Text
“What? How? Where?”
“You have always been about the questions” Aziraphale chuckled. “Constable Clark is on his way to Baker Street. So, If we are to find out what happened and how Lord Blackwood is back amongst the living, we must make haste. So, please, can you collect your hat and I will hail a cabby”
“That's What and Where. How is yet to be.”
“Yes. Now hurry. I do not want to be there when He gets there.”
“Is He still looking into you?”
“I've been sloppy and he is more than observant. It may be time to have children”
“With who?”
“Invented”
“Yes. Mrs and Mr Invented have had a child. Who looks like you and named after you. Suddenly die, abroad and relative-less and leave their their only boy child, to the care of the single bookseller, who sends him to boarding school. Until he inherits, the surprisingly not financially failing shop and position.”
“Crowley?”
“Put your hat on?” Crowley straightened his coat sleeves “Suited and booted. Shall we invest-tig-gate?”
“After you”
“What did you see?”
“He is dead. I … I... don't believe in ghosts”
“Ghosts don't exist. Who did you see my dear fellow?” Aziraphale asked the gravedigger, kindly.
“Ask him properly” Crowley demanded.
“He just needs a minute”
“We haven't got a minute, or three” Crowley paced and looked out towards the gate “They will be here soon”
“Fine” Aziraphale waved his hand “What did you see?”
“Saw him walking through the graveyard”
“Who? Who did you see?”
“Lord Blackwell. Him who was hung. Hung for them murders”
“Thank you. Wait here. There will be more questions”
“What now?”
“We look down there?”
“The dark crypt in the graveyard?”