Midnight's Choice Read Online Free PDF Page A

lost any.’
    Jeff had visions of blundering around with nets in the night. It wouldn’t be the first time such a thing had happened. ‘What sort of bird?’
    â€˜I’ll hand you over to the witness, hold on.’
    There was a crackle, and then a sort of knocking sound, as though the receiver at the other end had been dropped on the floor. At last a rather drunken voice came on to the line.
    â€˜Hello?’
    â€˜Hello.’
    â€˜Hello?’
    â€˜Hello. Jeff Maloney here. You’ve seen an unusual bird?’
    â€˜By God, I have. Never saw anything like it. It must be one of your lads, come out of the zoo. I never saw anything like it.’
    â€˜Can you describe it to me?’
    â€˜It was golden, pure golden. I never saw anything like it.’
    Jeff gritted his teeth, convinced that he was dealing with a hallucination. It wouldn’t have been the first time that had happened, either. ‘Can you tell me any more?’ he said.
    â€˜I’ve never seen anything like it. It had ... sort of ... long tail feathers, hanging down. And it was golden.’
    â€˜Probably a hen pheasant,’ said Jeff. ‘We quite often see them in the park at this time of year. Was it sitting in a tree?’
    â€˜It was, by God, but it wasn’t a pheasant, no way. It was golden, pure golden, I’ve never seen anything like it.’
    Jeff sighed. ‘A trick of the light, I’d imagine,’ he said, as kindly as he could. ‘Those street lights can have a strange effect sometimes.’
    â€˜Well, you can say what you like,’ said the voice on the other end of the line, ‘but that was no pheasant, hen or cock. I’ve—’
    â€˜â€”never seen anything like it, I know,’ said Jeff, his patience finally deserting him. ‘I appreciate your calling, and I’ll check it out first thing in the morning on my way to work.’
    â€˜It’ll be your loss if it’s gone by then,’ said the voice.
    â€˜It’ll be my loss if I don’t get a bit of sleep tonight, too. Goodnight, and thank you for your information.’
    As he put down the receiver, Jeff heard the dog shuffling into the corner, well out of range.
    The best way for Tess to get out of the empty house was to become a rat again. She made her way out by using a series of passages and air vents, then checked carefully up and down before leaving cover.
    The street meant nothing to her. It was like dozens of others in the area, made up of two-storey brick-built houses dating from the fifties and early sixties. For some reason, she had thought that she would recognise the house where the Switcher was living as soon as she saw it, but now that she was out in the open, one house looked pretty much like the next.
    A car came slowly down the street and Tess instinctively slipped into the damp and oily gutter, sheltering behind the wheel of a parked van until the coast was clear. When she came out from behind the wheel, it was in the shape of a small mongrel dog. She had often used this form when a certain type of investigation was needed.
    It was no use, though. She patrolled the length of the street in both directions, catching every available scent from the sleeping households, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. She had hoped for some lingering residue of the Switcher’s ability, a variety of animal smells coming from one of the houses perhaps, or one of an unusual nature. But apart from the still pervasive smell of rats, there was nothing out of the ordinary at all. The dog’s nose couldn’t help.
    She craned her neck to look at the upstairs windows. Presumably, whoever had called the rats was still awake, which probably meant a light on somewhere. But the only lighted windows were in a house at the end of the street, and the voices which could be heard coming from it were of people much older than Switchers could be.
    Tess considered changing into something