‘Can you do any magic?’ he asked as we walked past the shuttered ballroom on our way to the Avon Suite.

‘Everyone can do a bit,’ I said, wondering where Kevin Zipp had got to. ‘If you are thinking of somebody and the phone rings and it’s them, that’s magic. If you get a curious feeling that you’ve been or done something before, then that’s magic too. It’s everywhere. It seeps into the fabric of the world and oozes out as coincidence, fate, chance, luck or what have you. The big problem is making it work for you in some useful manner.’

‘Mother Zenobia used to say that magic was like the gold that is mingled in sand,’ observed Tiger, ‘worth a lot of money but useless since you can’t extract it.’

‘She’s right. But if you have magic within you, were properly trained and the sort of person who could channel their mind, then it is possible a career in sorcery might be the thing for you. Were you tested?’

‘Yes, I was a 162.8.’

‘I’m a 159.3,’ I told him, ‘so pretty useless the pair of us.’

You have to have 350 or more before anyone gets interested. You’ve either got it or you haven’t – a bit like being able to play a piano or go backwards on a unicycle while juggling seven clubs.

‘You and me and Unstable Mabel are the only sane ones in the building, and I have my doubts about Mable. Don’t feel left out or anything by being normal.’

‘I’ll try not to.’

I opened the door to the Kazam offices and flicked on the light. The Avon Suite was large but seemed considerably smaller owing to a huge amount of clutter. There were filing cabinets, desks where once sat now-long-redundant agents, tables, piles of paperwork, back issues of Spells magazine, several worn-out sofas and, in the corner, a moose. It chewed softly on some grass and stared at us laconically.

‘That’s the Transient Moose,’ I said, looking through the mail, ‘an illusion that was left as a practical joke long before I got here. He moves randomly about the building appearing now and then, here and there to this one and that one. We’re hoping he’ll wear out soon.’

Tiger went up to the moose and placed a hand on its nose. His hand went through the creature as though it were smoke. I took the papers off a nearby desk and placed them on a third, pushed up a swivel chair and showed Tiger how to use the phone system.

‘You can answer from anywhere in the hotel. If I don’t pick up, then you should. Take a message and I’ll call them back.’

‘I’ve never had a desk,’ said Tiger, looking at the desk fondly.

‘You’ve got one now. See that teapot on the sideboard over there?’

He nodded.