The Twilight Watch Read Online Free PDF

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! The Other might be a
vampire or a werewolf . . . or he might not.'
    I nodded.
    'He might be a Dark One,' said Gesar. 'Or