Gesar would be ready before the cold weather set in.

After hearing that, I wasn't as delighted as I had been at first with the decision that I could keep my suit. The tailor clearly didn't make genuine, top-quality garments in half a day.

Gesar himself provided me with ties. He even taught me a particularly fashionable knot. Then he gave me a wad of banknotes and the address of a shop and ordered me to buy everything else to match, including underwear, handkerchiefs and socks. I was offered the services of Ignat as a consultant, one of our magicians who would have been called an incubus in the Day Watch. Or a succubus – he didn't really care much either way.

The expedition to the boutiques – where Ignat felt right at home – was amusing. But the visit to the hairdresser's, or rather the 'Beauty Salon', left me completely wrecked. Two women and a young man who tried to make out he was gay, although he wasn't, took turns inspecting me. They sighed and made uncomplimentary remarks about my hairdresser. If their wishes had come true, the hairdresser would have been condemned to shearing mangy sheep for the rest of his life. And, for some reason, in Tajikistan. This was clearly the most terrible curse for hairdressers. I even decided that after my mission I'd drop into the second-class hairdresser's where I'd been getting my hair cut for the last year, just to make sure they hadn't left an Inferno vortex hanging over the man's head.

The collective wisdom of the beauty specialists was that my only hope of salvation was a short comb-cut, to make me look like one of those small-time hoods who fleece traders at the market. In consolation they told me that the forecast was for a hot summer and I'd feel more comfortable with short hair.

After the haircut, which took more than an hour, I was subjected to a manicure and a pedicure. When Ignat was satisfied, he took me to a dentist, who removed the scale from my teeth with a special fitting on his drill and advised me to have the procedure repeated every six months. Afterwards my teeth felt somehow naked, and it was unpleasant to touch them with my tongue. I couldn't think of what to say in reply to Ignat's ambivalent comment: 'Anton, you look good enough to fall in love with!' and just mumbled something incomprehensible. All the way back to the office I served as a defenceless target for his unsubtle wit.

The suit was waiting for me. And the tailor too, muttering discontentedly that sewing a suit without a second fitting was like getting married on impulse.

I don't know. If every marriage made on impulse was as successful as that suit, divorce rates would be reduced to zero.

Gesar spoke to the tailor about his coat again. They had a long, heated argument about the buttons, until the Most Lucent Magician finally capitulated. I stood by the window, looking out at the evening street and the small blinking light of the alarm system in 'my' car.

I hoped no one would steal it . . . I couldn't set up any magical defences to frighten away petty thieves. That would give me away more surely than the parachute trailing behind the Russian spy Stirlitz in the old joke.

That night I was due to sleep in the new apartment. And I had to pretend it wasn't the first time I'd been there. At least there was no one waiting for me back at home. No wife or daughter or dog or cat . . . I didn't even have fish in an aquarium. And it was a good job I didn't.

'Do you understand your mission, Gorodetsky?' Gesar asked. The tailor had left while I was daydreaming at the window. My new suit was amazingly comfortable. Despite the new haircut, I didn't feel like a thug who terrorised market traders, but someone a bit more serious. Maybe a collector of protection money from small shops.

'Move into Assol. Meet with my neighbours. Look for any signs of the renegade Other and his potential client. When I find them, report back. In dealings with the other investigators behave civilly, exchange information, be co-operative.'

Gesar stood beside me at the window. He nodded.

'All correct, Anton, all correct . . . Only you've missed out the most important thing.'

'Oh yes?'

'You mustn't cling to any theories. Not even the most likely ones . . . especially the most likely ones!