Edgar appeared after Witezslav. The journey to the third level had cost the magician a serious effort-he was staggering and breathing heavily.

"He's going with us," Witezslav 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 Witezslav was well within his rights, there was no way I could oppose him.

"Shall we go back, gentlemen?" Witezslav 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.

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

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

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

I didn't say anything.

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

Kostya giggled. 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-wise Gesar really have committed such a blunder?" he asked in delight. "How interesting…"

Witezslav looked at him, and Kostya stopped short.

"Anyone can blunder," Witezslav 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 Witezslav.

"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.

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

I took out my cell phone and dialed Gesar's number.

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

"Tell him to get dressed," I said, listening to the beeping of the phone. "Or do we have to humiliate an old man and take him like that in his underpants?"

Witezslav didn't stir 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," Witezslav 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 soundlessly.

"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 the words out with a struggle.

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

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

Witezsav turned toward 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 Witezslav was standing there beside me.

"Witezslav 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 Witezslav. To be honest, I felt Gesar had overdone the jibes a bit.

But how could I know the way 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," Witezslav 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."

Witezslav simply glanced briefly to one side-and a narrow, bright portal appeared in the air above the seething Jacuzzi. Anyone stepping out through that strange doorway was bound to end up in the water.

"No problem," Witezslav said coolly. "Edgar…"

The former Dark Magician looked devotedly into his eyes.

"The file on this man…" Witezslav nodded toward Timur Borisovich, who was lazily knotting his necktie. "It's probably downstairs, in the security service 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 slabs of the floor.

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

He looked at Witezslav 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," Witezslav 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 silence. Kostya had gone quiet after finishing his soundless conversation with Zabulon-who was in no hurry to put in an appearance. Witezslav 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: "Ah…"

"Do you know this man, Most Lucent Gesar?" Witezslav asked.

Gesar turned toward us with an expression of profound sadness on his face, and asked bitterly, "Tell me, have you completely lost your grip? This is my own flesh and blood, Witezslav! This is my son!"

"Really?" Witezslav asked ironically.

Gesar took no more notice of him. He put his arms around 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 Witezslav. "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."