“Here. Well, outside. But he came out the front window. Then he . . . jumped away. He had a knife and—”

His grandfather was already gone, dashing toward the main room. Alex found him poised halfway through the open window, one foot on the outside ledge.

“Something’s not right,” the old man said, leaning into the rain, searching the night. “I haven’t actually seen him since Prague, Alex. Harry and I, we’d been trying to track them. But I never caught a glimpse of him. We saw his machines, tangled with his bald goon and Willy von Sudenfeld—although those two tonight were new. Hard to tell about the chap, what with the mask, but I’m sure I’ve never encountered the woman before. New recruits, I suppose. He picks disciples up and throws them away. But I haven’t laid eyes on him, y’see. I had begun to suspect he might still be badly injured after—after what happened in Prague. When he was burned. How was he looking?”

“Just the same. . . .” As the memory of the shadowy figure tingled over Alex like static electricity, he shuddered to recall the reckless moment he’d been seized by the mad desire to call out to him. “I hardly saw him, but his face wasn’t bandaged anymore. Though he seemed stiff when he moved. There was something about the way he moved. It was, I dunno. Weird. Weirder than normal. It happened fast, I didn’t really take it in. He’s even taller than I remembered.”

“Coast seems clear for now.” Alex’s grandfather scanned the road again, then stepped back in. “But there’s something. I’m missing something.” The old man ran a bloody knuckle over his lips, lost in thought, then absently turned for the light switch on the wall. Nothing happened when he flicked it. Looking up, they saw the bulbs in all the overhead lamps had been smashed.

“Somebody wanted to make sure it was dark,” Alex said.

“All the better to hide in,” the old man said grimly. “Hide and wait.” He clapped his hands. “Still: not as good as turning invisible. Come back through, Alex. We have to get moving, but there are things I need to show you first.” He disappeared toward Harry’s inner rooms.

Alex reached to close the window, then paused. He thought he’d heard something. The whoop of a police or ambulance siren sounded from a distance, cutting sharply across the night. Just trouble for someone out there. He locked the window and followed his grandfather, turning away too soon to see a small shadow drop from above and settle weakly on the ledge.

VIII.

NIGHT GALLERY

Alex found the old man in Harry’s office-library, replacing his bloodied jacket with one from two duplicate suits hanging in a cupboard.