circumstantial evidence suggests a vampire attack. But why does the situation require intervention by us?' I asked. 'Russians are often killed abroad. Sometimes by vampires. Don't you trust Foma and his men?'
'I trust them. But they don't have much experience. Scotland is a peaceful, calm, cosy country. They might not be up to the job. And you've had a lot of dealings with vampires.'
'Of course. But even so? Is the reason that his father's a politician?'
Geser frowned.
'Twenty years ago the young man's father was identified as a potential Light Other. A rather powerful one. He declined initia tion, and said he wanted to remain a human being. He sent the Dark Ones packing straight away. But he maintained a certain level of contact with us. Helped us sometimes.'
I nodded. Yes, it was a rare case. It's not often that people reject all the opportunities that Others have.
'You might say that I feel guilty about Prokhorov senior,' Geser said. 'And though I can't help his son any more ... I won't let the killer go unpunished. You're going to go to Edinburgh, find this crazy bloodsucker and reduce him to dust in the wind.'
That was a direct order. But I hadn't been about to argue in any case.
'When do I fly?' I asked
'Call in at the international section. They should have prepared your documents, tickets and money. And a cover story'
'A cover story? Who for ?me?'
'Yes, you'll be working unofficially'
'Contacts?'
For some reason Geser frowned again and gave me a strangely suspicious glance.
'Only Foma... Anton, stop mocking me!'
I gave Geser a perplexed look.
'"Co" is the beginning of the word "cocksman",' Geser blurted out. 'We were young then, you know... the free and easy morals of the Renaissance... All right, off you go! And try to catch the next flight out.' He paused for an instant, and then added: 'If Svetlana doesn't object. And if she does, say that I'll try to persuade her.'
'She will object,' I said confidently.
What was it that had upset Geser like that? And why had he explained to me about that word 'cocksman'?
Svetlana set a plate down in front of me, full of fried potatoes and mushrooms. Then a knife and fork appeared on the table, followed by a salt cellar, a saucer of pickled cucumbers, a little glass and a small carafe with just a hundred grams of vodka. The carafe was straight out of the fridge and it immediately misted up in the warm air.
Bliss!
Every man's dream when he comes home from work. His wife fusses over the stove and puts delicious things that are bad for you on the table. Was there something she wanted to ask me? My daughter was playing quietly with her building set ?at the age of five she had already lost interest in dolls. She didn't build little cars and aeroplanes, though. She built houses ?maybe she was going to be an architect?
'Sveta, they're sending me to Edinburgh,' I repeated, just to be the safe side.
'Yes, I heard you,' Svetlana replied calmly.
The little carafe on the table lifted into the air. The round glass stopper twisted out of its neck. The cold vodka flowed into the glass in a thick translucent stream.
'I have to get a plane today,' I said. 'There's no flight to Edinburgh, so I'll fly to London and transfer there...'
'Then don't drink a lot,' Svetlana said anxiously.
The carafe swerved and moved away towards the fridge.
'I thought you'd be upset,' I said, disappointed.
'What's the point?' Svetlana asked, serving herself a full plate as well. 'Would you not go?'
'No, I would.'
'There, you see, Geser would only start calling and explaining how important your trip is.' Svetlana frowned.
'It really is important.'
'I know,' Svetlana said, nodding. 'This morning I sensed that they were going to send you somewhere far away again. I phoned Olga and asked what had happened in the last few days. Well... she told me about that young guy in Scotland.'
I nodded in relief. Svetlana knew all about it, that was great. No need for lies or half-truths.
'It's a strange business,' she said.
I shrugged and drank the forty grams of vodka that I had been allocated. I crunched happily on a pickled cucumber and then asked, with my mouth full:
'What's so strange about it? Either a wild vampire, or one who went loco because he hadn't fed for too long... that's pretty normal stuff for them. This one seems to have a distinctive sense of humour, though. Fancy killing someone in a tourist attraction called the Castle of