'Monday. Eight in the morning,' the boss said triumphantly. 'And now what? Are we going to sit and watch the screen for twelve hours?'
'Oh, of course,' I said, pretending to be disappointed. 'I never thought of that.'
'We press a key . . . no, this one here . . . And now what do we have?'
The image started flickering rapidly.
'What?' I asked, as if I'd never designed the same kind of system for our office.
'Movement search,' the boss declared.
We had our first taker at nine-thirty in the morning. Some oriental-looking worker came into the post office and posted a whole bundle of letters.
'Not your female stranger?' the boss quipped sarcastically. And then he explained. 'That's one of the men building the second block. They're always sending letters to Tashkent . . .'
I nodded.
The second visitor came in at quarter past one; I didn't know him. A very respectable-looking gent, with a bodyguard walking behind him.
The gentleman didn't post any letters. I didn't understand why he went in at all – maybe he was eyeing up the girls, or studying the layout at Assol.
And the third one was . . . Las!
'Oh!' the boss exclaimed. 'Now that's your neighbour, the jester, isn't it? The one who sings songs at night.'
I was obviously a very poor detective . . .
'That's him . . .' I whispered. 'But would he really . . .'
'Okay, let's watch a bit more,' the security boss said, taking pity on me.
Later on, after a two-hour break, people came piling in.
Another three residents sent off envelopes of some kind. All men, all very serious-looking.
And one woman. About seventy years old. Just before closing time. Plump, wearing a sumptuous dress and huge beads in bad taste. Her sparse grey hair was set in curls.
'Surely it couldn't be her?' the boss said, delighted. He got up and slapped me on the shoulder. 'Well, is there any point in looking for your mysterious flirt?'
'It's clear enough,' I said. 'It's a wind-up.'
'Never mind, it's nothing more than a harmless joke,' the security boss consoled me. 'And a request from me to you for the future . . . don't ever make such ambiguous gestures. Never take money out, if you don't intend to pay someone.'
I hung my head.
'We're the ones who corrupt people,' the boss said bitterly. 'Do you understand? We do it ourselves. Offer someone money once, twice . . . and the third time he asks you for it. And we complain – what is all this, and where did it come from? But you're a good man, I can see the light in you.'
I gaped at the boss in amazement.
'Yes, you are a good man,' said the boss. 'I trust my instinct. I saw all sorts in twenty years in the criminal investigation department. Don't do that again, all right? Don't sow evil in the world.'
It was a long time since I'd felt so ashamed.
A Light Magician being taught not to do evil!
'I'll try,' I said, looking the boss in the eye guiltily. 'Thanks very much for your help.'
He didn't answer. His eyes had turned glassy, as vacant as a little baby's. His mouth had opened slightly. His fingers had turned white, clenched tightly around the armrests of his chair.
The freeze. A fairly simple spell, very widely used.
There was someone standing by the window behind me. I couldn't see them, but I could sense them with my back . . .
I jerked to one side as quickly as I could. But I still felt the icy breath of the power aimed at me. No, it wasn't the freeze. But it was something similar, something out of the vampire's arsenal of tricks.
The power skidded across me and sank into the unfortunate security boss. The cover Gesar had put in place not only disguised me, it protected me too.
My shoulder smashed against the wall and I threw my hands out in front of me, but at the last second I pulled back and didn't strike. I blinked and raised the shadow of my eyelids up over my eyes.
Standing by the windows, grim-faced from effort, was a vampire. Tall, with the face of a well-bred European. A Higher Vampire, without the slightest doubt. And not as immature as Kostya. He was at least three hundred years old. And his power undoubtedly exceeded mine.
But not Gesar's! The vampire had not seen that I was really an Other. And now all those suppressed non-life instincts