«Was that the hunt for that Dark One who went crazy?»
«Yes.»
«Well, in theory, you could have killed the Dark Ones. Quite easily. And I'm sorry about this, Anton, but every one of the killings happened when you were in an excited state; not completely in control of yourself.»
«I didn't do it.»
«I believe you. What shall I do with the file?»
«Delete it.»
Tolik thought for a while.
«I don't have anything valuable on here. I think I'll run a low-level format. The disc's long overdue for a clean-out.»
«Thanks.» I closed the dossier on the boss. «That's it, I'll deal with the others myself.»
«Gotcha,» said Tolik as he overcame the computer's righteous indignation and it began digesting itself.
«Go check on our staff,» I suggested. «And look stern for a change. I'm sure they're playing patience in there.»
«All in a day's work, I suppose.» Tolik agreed willingly enough. «When will you be through here?»
«In about two hours.»
«I'll come back.»
He went off to our «girls,» two young programmers who basically dealt with the Watch's official activity. I continued working. Semyon was next up.
Two and a half hours later I tore my eyes away from the computer, massaged the back of my neck with my palms—it always cramps up when I sit there hunched over the monitor like that—and turned on the coffee machine.
Neither the boss, nor Ilya, nor Semyon fitted the role of an unhinged killer of Dark Ones. They all had alibis—and some of them were absolutely rock solid. For instance: Semyon had managed to spend the entire night of one of the murders in negotiation with the top management of the Day Watch. Ilya had been on assignment in Sakhalin—they'd screwed things up so badly over there that they'd needed help from the central office…
I was the only one left under suspicion.
It wasn't that I didn't trust Tolik, but I went through the data again anyway. It was all very neat. Not a single alibi.
The coffee was disgusting, sour; the filter couldn't have been changed for ages. I gulped down the hot swill, gazing at the screen, then took out my cell phone and dialed the boss's number.
«Yes, Anton.»
He always knew who was calling him.
«Boris Ignatievich, only one of the four can be suspected.»
«Which one exactly?»
The boss's voice was dry and official. But somehow I suddenly got this image of him sitting semi-naked on a leather couch, with a glass of champagne in one hand and Olga's hand in the other, holding the phone in place with his shoulder, or levitating it beside his ear…
«Tut-tut,» the boss rebuked me. «You lousy clairvoyant. Who's under suspicion?»
«I am.»
«I see.»
«You knew it,» I said.
«Why do you say that?»
«There was no need to get me to process that dossier. You could have done it yourself. That means you wanted me to be convinced of the danger.»
«That could be,» the boss said with a sigh. «What are you going to do, Anton?»
«Start packing my bag for jail.»
«Come around to my office. In… er… in ten minutes.»
«Okay.» I turned off my phone.
First I went to see how the girls were doing. Tolik was still there with them, and they were hard at work.
The Watch didn't really have any need for these two worthless programmers. Their security clearance was low, so we still had to do almost everything ourselves. But where else could we find work for two sorceresses as weak as these two? If only they'd have agreed to live ordinary lives… no, they wanted the romance of working for the Watch… So we'd invented jobs for them.
They mostly just whiled away the time, surfing the Net and playing games; their greatest favorites were the various kinds of patience.
Tolik was at one of the spare PCs—we had plenty of hardware around the place. Yulia was perched on his knees, twitching the mouse around on its mat.
«Is that what you call computer skills training?» I asked, gazing at the monsters hurtling around the screen.
«There's nothing better than computer games for improving skill with the mouse,» Tolik replied innocently.
«Well…« I couldn't think of any answer.
It was a long time since I'd played any video games like that. The same went for most other members of the Watch. Killing some evil vermin in a cartoon stopped being interesting once you'd met it face to face. Unless, that is, you'd already lived a couple of hundred years and built up huge reserves of cynicism, like Olga…
«Tolik, I probably won't be back in today,» I said.
«Aha.» He nodded, without any sign of surprise. None of us have really strong powers of prevision, but we sense little things like that immediately.
«Galya, Lena, see you later,» I said to the girls. Galya twittered something polite, trying to look entirely absorbed in her work. Lena asked:
«Can I leave early today?»
«Of course.»
We don't lie to each other. If Lena asks, it means she really needs to leave early. We don't lie. But sometimes we might just leave something unsaid…
The boss's desk was in a state of total confusion. Pens, pencils, sheets of paper, printouts of reports, dull, exhausted magic crystals.
But the crowning glory of this incredible jumble was a lighted spirit lamp, with some white powder roasting over it in a crucible. The boss was stirring it thoughtfully with the tip of his expensive Parker pen, obviously expecting it to produce some kind of effect. But the powder seemed to be doggedly ignoring the heat and his stirring.
«Here.» I put the disc down in front of the boss.
«What are we going to do?» Boris Ignatievich asked without even looking up. He wasn't wearing a jacket; his shirt was crumpled and his tie had slid to one side.
I stole a glance at the couch. Olga wasn't in the office, but there was an empty champagne bottle standing on the floor, next to two glasses.
«I don't know. I haven't killed any Dark Ones… not these Dark Ones. You know that.»
«Sure, I know.»
«But I can't prove it.»
«By my reckoning we've got two or three days,» said the boss. «Then the Day Watch will bring a formal charge against you.»
«It wouldn't take much to arrange a false alibi.»
«And would you agree to that?» Boris Ignatievich inquired.
«Of course not. Can I ask one question?»
«Yes.»
«Where does this information come from? The photos and videos?»
The boss paused for a moment.
«I thought that would be it. You've seen my dossier, Anton. Was it any less intrusive?»
«No, I suppose not. That's why I'm asking. Why do you allow information like that to be gathered?»
«I can't forbid it. Monitoring is carried out by the Inquisition.»
I just managed to bite back the stupid question: «But does it really exist?» My face probably said it all for me anyway.
The boss continued looking at me for a moment or two as if he were expecting more questions and then went on:
«Let's get to the point, Anton. From this moment on you must never be left alone. Maybe you can go to the John on your own, but at all other times—you must have two or three witnesses with you. If we're lucky there could be another killing.»
«If I'm really being set up, the killing won't happen until I'm left without an alibi.»
«And we'll make sure you are not left without one,» the boss said, laughing. «What kind of old fool do you take me for?»
I nodded, still not sure, still not understanding everything.
«Olga…«
The door in the wall—the one I'd always assumed led into a closet—opened and Olga came in, smiling as she straightened out her hair. Her jeans and blouse sat really tight on her body, the way they do only after a hot shower. Behind her I caught a glimpse of an immense bathroom with a Jacuzzi and a panoramic window right across one wall—it must have been one-way glass.