The Twilight Watch (12 page)

'That's only half of the investigation,' Kostya said sullenly. 'I think
you Light Ones are protecting one of your own.'

'We are, or I am?'

'You are, Anton. Finding the human being isn't the most important
thing. We need the one who spoke out of turn. The one who
promised to initiate him.'

'But he doesn't know anything!' I protested. 'I checked his
memory, there's nothing there. The traitor came to him disguised
as a movie actor from the last century. And he didn't leave any
clues.'

'We'll see about that,' Kostya decided. 'Let him get his trousers
on, and I'll take him in.'

How about that for cheek!

'I found him, and he's going with me!' I barked.

'And I think you were going to cover up the clues,' Kostya said
with quiet menace.

Behind our backs the old man was slowly towelling himself off,
without even the slightest idea of the conversation we were having
in the Twilight. And we glared at each other, neither of us willing
to back off.

'He's going with me,' I repeated.

'Fight you for him?' Kostya asked, almost cheerfully.

In a single gliding movement he was there beside me. He
glanced into my eyes, and in the Twilight his eyes glittered with
red fire.

He really wanted this fight.

He'd been wanting it for years. To finally convince himself that
truth was on the side of the Higher Vampire Konstantin, and not
the naïve youth Kostya, who had dreamed of freeing himself from
the curse and becoming human again . . .

'I'll annihilate you,' I whispered.

Kostya just laughed:

'Shall we find out?'

I looked down at my feet. The shadow was barely visible, but
I raised it – and slipped down into the next level of the Twilight.
Where the walls of the building were mere hints in the mist and
space was filled with a low, disconcerting drone.

But I only held the advantage for a brief moment.

Kostya appeared at the second level immediately after me. And
now he had changed a great deal – his face looked like a skull
with the skin stretched tight over it, his eyes were sunken and his
ears long and pointed.

'I've really learned a lot,' Kostya whispered. 'Well then, who's
the suspect going with?'

And then another voice spoke:

'I have a proposal that will suit everyone.'

Witiezslav materialised in the grey mist. His body was also
distorted, and it was steaming, like a lump of dry ice in the sun.
I shuddered – the Prague vampire had emerged from the third
level of the Twilight, from depths that were beyond my reach. Just
how powerful was he?

Edgar appeared after Witiezslav. The journey to the third level
had been a serious effort for the magician – he was staggering
and breathing heavily.

'He's going with us,' Witiezslav continued. 'We are not inclined
to suspect Anton Gorodetsky of any criminal intent. But we take
note of the Day Watch's suspicions. The investigation is transferred
to the Inquisition.'

Kostya didn't reply.

I didn't say anything either. Apart from the fact that Witiezslav
was well within his rights, there was no way I could oppose him.

'Shall we go back, gentlemen?' Witiezslav proposed. 'It's a little
bleak down here.'

And a second later we were back standing in the spacious bathroom,
where Timur Borisovich was hopping from one foot to the
other as he tried to get into his underpants.

Witiezslav gave him time to pull up his underwear. It was only
when the businessman heard something and turned round, then
saw our little group and shouted out in surprise that Witiezslav
cast a cold glance at him.

Timur Borisovich went limp. Edgar leapt to his side and lowered
the limp body into a chair.

'You say he doesn't know who the traitor is,' Witiezslav said,
surveying the businessman curiously. 'What a remarkably familiar
face . . . It suggests certain rather interesting conjectures to me.'

I said nothing.

'You can be proud of yourself, Anton,' Witiezslav went on. 'What
you said made perfect sense. I believe this man's father really does
serve in a Watch. The Night Watch.'

Kostya laughed. Of course, he didn't much like Witezslav's
decision. Kostya would have preferred to deliver Gesar's offspring
to the Day Watch. But the way things were suited him pretty well
too.

'Could the all-knowing Gesar really have committed such a
blunder?' he asked in delight. 'How interesting . . .'

Witiezslav looked at him, and Kostya stopped short.

'Anyone can blunder,' Witiezslav said in a quiet voice. 'Even a
magician beyond classification. But . . .'

He fixed his gaze on me:

'Can you ask Gesar to come here?'

I shrugged. It was a stupid question, of course I could. And so
could Witiezslav.

'I don't like what's going on here,' Witezslav said in that same
quiet voice. 'I don't like it at all. Someone here is bluffing far too
brazenly.'

He ran his piercing, inhuman glance over all of us. Something
had put him on his guard, but exactly what was it?

'I'll contact my chief,' Kostya said in a tone that brooked no
denial.

Witiezslav didn't object. He was looking at Timur Borisovich
and frowning.

I took out my phone and dialled Gesar's number.

'Someone's trying to make fools of us all,' said Witiezslav, his
fury starting to break through. 'And that someone . . .'

'Tell him to get dressed,' I said as I listened to the beeping of
the phone. 'Or do we have to humiliate an old man and take him
in his underpants?'

Witiezslav didn't move a muscle, but Timur Borisovich stood
up and started getting dressed, as if he were sleepwalking.

Edgar sidled up to me and asked sympathetically:

'Isn't he answering? In his place I'd . . .'

'It will be a long time before anyone offers you a place like
that,' Witiezslav commented. 'If you can't see how we've been set
up . . .'

If the look on Edgar's face was anything to go by, he couldn't
see a thing. And neither could I, or Kostya, who had rolled his
eyes back and up and was whispering something silently.

'Yes, Anton . . .' Gesar said when he answered. 'Anything interesting?'

'I've found the man who was promised he could be turned into
an Other,' I said, forcing out the words with difficulty.

Total silence fell in the bathroom. Everyone seemed to be
straining to hear the faint sound from my phone.

'Excellent!' Gesar exclaimed. 'Well done! Now get in touch
with the investigators from the Day Watch and the Inquisition
straight away. Let them join in. That Czech vampire, Witiezslav, is
around there somewhere. The old guy's on the ball, even if he
doesn't have any sense of humour . . . but that's a misfortune
suffered by all vampires.'

Witiezslav turned towards me. His face had turned to stone and
his eyes were blazing. He'd heard everything.

And I would have bet a crate of Czech beer to a bottle of triple
cologne that Gesar knew perfectly well that Witiezslav was standing
there beside me.

'Witiezslav is already here,' I said. 'And so is Edgar and . . . the
investigator from the Dark Ones.'

'Great!' Gesar was delighted. 'Ask our visitor from Prague to
put up a portal for me . . . if he can manage that, of course. I'll
drop over to see you.'

I put the phone away and looked at Witiezslav. To be honest, I
felt Gesar had overdone it a bit.

But how could I know how things stood between the old Light
Magician and the vampire Inquisitor? And what scores they had
to settle with each other?

'You heard him,' I said evasively.

'Tell me again,' Witiezslav replied curtly.

'The head of the Night Watch of Moscow, the Most Lucent
Magician Gesar, requests you to put up a portal for him. If that
is within your power, of course.'

Witiezslav simply glanced to one side and a narrow, bright
doorway appeared in the air above the bubbling jacuzzi. Anyone
stepping out through that strange door was bound to end up in
the water.

'No problem,' Witiezslav said coolly. 'Edgar . . .'

The former Dark Magician looked devotedly into his eyes.

'The file on this man . . .' Witiezslav nodded towards Timur
Borisovich, who was lazily knotting his necktie. 'It's probably downstairs,
in the security office.'

Edgar disappeared. To save time, he went to get the file through
the Twilight.

And a moment later Gesar appeared in the bathroom.

Only he didn't appear through the portal, but beside it, stepping
down neatly onto the marble floor.

'I'm really getting old,' he sighed. 'I missed the door . . .'

He looked at Witiezslav and broke into a broad smile.

'Well, just look who's here! Why didn't you drop in to see me?'

'I've been busy,' Witiezslav answered curtly. 'I think we need
to resolve a few matters that have come up, as quickly as possible
. . .'

'You've been spending too much time in the office,' Gesar sighed.
'You've become a total bureaucrat . . .Well, what do we have here?'

'There he is,' I put in.

Gesar gave me a smile of approval and looked at Timur
Borisovich.

There was a sudden hush. Kostya had gone quiet after finishing
his silent conversation with Zabulon, who was in no hurry to put
in an appearance. Witiezslav had turned to stone. I was trying not
even to breathe.

'That's curious,' said Gesar. He went over to Timur Borisovich,
who was staring blankly straight ahead, and touched his arm. He
heaved a sigh: 'Ai-ai-ai . . .'

'Do you know this man, Most Lucent Gesar?' Witiezslav asked.

Gesar turned towards us with an expression of profound sadness,
and asked bitterly:

'Tell me, have you completely lost your grip? This is my own
flesh and blood, Witiezslav! This is my son!'

'Really?' Witiezslav asked ironically.

Gesar took no more notice of him. He put his arms round
the old man, who from the human point of view could have
been his father. He stroked his cheeks affectionately and whispered:

'Where have you been all these years, my little one . . . and we
end up meeting like this . . . They told me you'd died . . . they
said it was diphtheria . . .'

'My heartfelt congratulations, Gesar,' said Witiezslav. 'But I should
like to receive an explanation.'

Edgar reappeared in the bathroom. Perspiring, clutching a folder
in his hands.

Still hugging his old son, Gesar replied:

'It's a simple story. Before the war I worked all over Uzbekistan.
Samarkand, Bukhara, Tashkent . . . I was married. Then I was recalled
to Moscow. I knew I'd had a son, but I never saw him. There was
no time for that . . . there was a war on. Then the boy's mother
died. And I lost track of him.'

'Not even
you
were able to find him?' Witiezslav asked suspiciously.

'Not even me. According to the documents, he had died. Of
diphtheria . . .'

'This is like a Mexican soap opera,' Edgar protested. 'Most
Lucent Gesar, do you claim never to have met this man?'

'Never,' Gesar said sadly.

'You have never spoken to him, never, in contravention of all
the rules, offered to help him become an Other?' Edgar persisted.

Gesar looked at the magician ironically.

'Esteemed Inqusitor, if anyone knows, you should, that a human
being cannot become an Other.'

'Answer the question!' said Edgar, half-asking, half-ordering.

'I have never seen him, never spoken to him and never made
any promises to him. I did not send the letters to the Watches and
the Inquisition. I did not ask anyone to meet with him or send
those letters. The Light bears witness to my words!' Gesar rapped
out. He flung out his hand – and for an instant a petal of white
fire blossomed on it. 'Are you casting doubt on what I say?
Claiming that I am the traitor?'

Gesar had grown taller, as if some spring had straightened out
inside him. You could have hammered nails into that look in his
eyes.

'Are you accusing me?' Gesar continued, raising his voice. 'You,
Edgar? Or you, Witiezslav?'

Kostya was too slow to back away and he was caught in that
withering glance:

'Or you, vampire-boy?'

Even I felt like hiding. But deep in my heart I was laughing.
Gesar had put one over on everyone. I didn't know how he'd
managed it, but he had.

'We would not dare even to surmise such a thing, Most Lucent
Gesar,' said Witiezslav, the first to bow his head. 'Edgar, your questions
were phrased impolitely.'

'I apologise,' Edgar said, hanging his head. 'Forgive me, Most
Lucent Gesar. I am profoundly sorry.'

Kostya was gazing around in panic. Was he waiting for Zabulon?
No, that wasn't likely. On the contrary, he was hoping the Dark
One's chief wouldn't turn up for his share of the taunts.

And Zabulon wouldn't turn up, I realised that. A European vampire
who, for all his great power and centuries-old wisdom, had lost his
touch for intrigue, might fall into a trap. But Zabulon had realised
straight away that Gesar wouldn't leave himself open so stupidly.

'You have attacked my son,' Gesar said sadly. 'Who cast the spell
of paralysis on him? You, Konstantin?'

'No!' Kostya exclaimed, panic-stricken.

'I did,' Witiezslav said dourly. 'Shall I remove it?'

'Remove it?' Gesar barked. 'You have used magic on my boy!
Can you imagine what a shock that is, at his age? Eh? And who
will he become now, after the initiation? A Dark One?'

My eyes almost popped out of my head. Kostya gave a faint
squeal. Edgar clamped his jaws shut.

We must all have looked at Timur Borisovich through the
Twilight at exactly the same moment.

The aura of a potential Other was quite unmistakable.

Timur Borisovich had no need to expose himself to the fangs
of a vampire or a werewolf. He could become a perfectly respectable
magician. Fourth- or fifth-grade.