Rafael frowned as though he’d been given a maths problem to solve and only five minutes to find the answer. “Can you repeat that, please?” he said at last, a note of weariness entering his voice.
“Which bit?” said the slightly nasal sounding voice on the other side of the radio connection.
“All of it, please,” he said. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes tightly, wishing that the headache that was forming would go away. In the passenger seat of the patrol car his partner, La Malacosa, giggled.
“Um, well… you’re to go to the Hallways Casino, that’s the big one off Sycamore Square and not the little one near the train station, and when you get there you’re to ask for Pech—“ he pronounced it like peck but with the last sound made breathy somehow “— and they’ll explain what the problem is. Uh, is that clear now?”
“As mud,” said Rafael. “Why are we going to a casino? Is there an assault? Or a drug deal gone wrong? Something, you know, criminal, happening there?”
“All I have here is that Pech will tell you when you get there,” said the dispatcher. He sounded a touch unhappy.
“Right, yes, well I guess that’s what we’ve got then,” said Rafael. “Thanks. We’re on our way.”
He flicked the switch on the radio that turned transmitting off and looked over at Sylvie, better known by her department nickname of Malacosa. “This has got to be some kind of joke, right, Mal? How can there be a crime going on in a casino that’s a secret?’
“I have no idea,” said Sylvie. She saw his look of disbelief and shrugged. “No, really, I don’t. I know as much as you do, Perdito.” Perdito was Rafael’s nickname.
“Well that’s just about nothing then.” He glared out through the windshield, hoping to see an actual crime being committed that would allow him to pass the casino case onto someone else, but the streets were quiet. A couple of children were levitating over a playground, and a young woman was walking two fish on a leash, but otherwise there was nothing to see.
“Get a move on,” said Sylvie, shifting in her seat. “It’s not going to get better if we’re late getting there.”
The Hallways Casino was a squat rectangular building on the corner of Tremble Street, supposedly named for a 19th century politician, with no windows that Rafael could see but a very grand, porticoed entrance with wide double doors and a doorman on either side.
“Do you think they open a door each?” he said as he parked the car in a space reserved for disabled parking.
“No, I think they’re there to make you feel special when you go in,” said Sylvie. She tsked when she saw that the space was reserved. “You can’t park here, you know.”
“I can,” said Rafael. “The tickets always get lost before they reach me.”
“That’s really not the point.”
“I know, but unless you want to move the car yourself, that’s where it’s parked.”
Sylvie shrugged. “I’m not the one who’ll get the ticket,” she said. “Although it sounds like you’re not either. Who does get the ticket?”
“I’ve never found out,” said Rafael, smiling for the first time since they’d been despatched. “Come on, let’s go and see if we warrant both doormen or just one.”
Both doormen ignored him and Sylvie as they approached and as Rafael pulled open a door and walked through into a long, gloomy corridor.
“I guess that’s how special we ar— whoah! What the hell was that?”
Sylvie had stopped just inside the entrance and the door hit her ungently on the shoulders, nudging her forwards.
“Strong,” she said, not moving any further. “That’s got to be at least five kilothaums. And… it’s not moving, it’s static.”
Rafael walked a little further and then stopped. “It ends here,” he said. He looked up and down the corridor. “About three-quarters of the way along. Might be a security field?”
“Might be why we’re here,” said Sylvie. “I’m pretty sure that the use of magic in a casino is regulated.”
Rafael looked along the corridor again. “Arguably we’re still outside the casino proper,” he said. “But I wouldn’t want to be standing in front of a judge making that argument.”
“Good choice,” said Sylvie. She took a step forward. “I don’t like it,” she said. “Gives me the creeps.”
Rafael took a few steps back until he was inside the magical field again. The sensation was like a bucket of cold water being poured over his head: a sudden shock that made him tingle everywhere, and then he kept tingling even as the shock died away. The tingle seemed strongest in his fingers and toes but he knew that that was just because the nerve endings there were especially sensitive to thaumic fields.
“It’s strong but it doesn’t feel odd,” he said. “And nullies wouldn’t even detect it. Maybe it’s just to identify people with magical ability to prevent them from getting into the casino proper? Part of the regulations?”
“That would make some sense,” said Sylvie. She seemed to steel herself against something unseen and walked along the corridor. She didn’t run, but she was clearly hurrying. “But,” she said when she reached the end with a gasp that suggested she’d been holding her breath, “it surely doesn’t need to be so strong for that. And why not have an alarm attached to it?”
“Maybe it does, but it’s not sounding here?”
“Could be.” Sylvie looked around. “Maybe we should stop guessing and find someone with some answers though.”
“This Peach person?”
“Pech.” Sylvie corrected him with a faint smile. “Looks like the coatrooms are to the left and the reception area is to the right.” She pointed at some faded signs on the wall. “Reception sounds like where we might be expected.”
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