'Anyway, you're a vampire. What advice could a vampire give me about women?'
'Oh, my vord, vake up and smell zer garlic! Oh, zer stories I could tell you.' Otto paused. 'But I von't because I don't do zat sort of thing any more, now that I have seen the daylight.' He nudged William, who was red with embarrassment. 'Let us just say, zey don't alvays scream.'
'That's a bit tasteless, isn't it?'
'Oh, that vas in zer bad old days,' said Otto hurriedly. 'Now I like nothing better than a nice mug of cocoa and a good sing-song around zer harmonium, I assure you. Oh, yes. My vord.'
Getting into the office to write up the story turned out to be a problem. In fact, so was getting into Gleam Street.
Otto caught William up as he stood and stared.
'Veil, I suppose ve asked for it,' he shouted. Tventy-five dollars is a lot of money.'
'What?' shouted William.
'I SAID TVENTY-FIVE DOLLARS IS A LOT OF MONEY, VILLIAM!'
'WHAT?'
Several people pushed past them. They were carrying dogs. Everyone in Gleam Street was carrying a dog, or leading a dog, or being dragged by a dog, or being savaged, despite the owner's best efforts, by a dog belonging to someone else. The barking had already gone beyond mere sounds, and was now some kind of perceptible force, hitting the eardrums like a hurricane made of scrap iron.
William pulled the vampire into a doorway, where the din was merely unbearable.
'Can't you do something?' he screamed. 'Otherwise we'll never get through!'
'Like vot?'
'Well, you know... all that children of the night business?'
'Oh, zat,' said Otto. He looked glum. 'Zat's really very stereotypical, you know. Vy don't you ask me to turn into a bat vhile you're about it? I told you, I don't do zat stuff no more!'
'Have you got a better idea?'
A few feet away a Rottweiler was doing its best to eat a spaniel.
'Oh, very veil.' Otto waved his hands vaguely.
The barking ceased instantly. And then every dog sat on its haunches and howled.
'Not a huge improvement, but at least they're not fighting,' said William, hurrying forward.
'Veil, I'm sorry. Stake me as you pass,' said Otto. 'I shall have a very embarrassing five minutes explaining this at the next meeting, you understand? I know it's not zer... sucking item, but I mean, vun should care about zer look of zer thing
They climbed over a rotting fence and entered the shed via the back door.
People and dogs were squeezing in through the other door and were only held at bay by a barricade of desks and also by Sacharissa, who was looking harassed as she faced a sea of faces and muzzles. William could just make out her voice above the din.
'--no, that's a poodle. It doesn't look a bit like the dog we're after--'
'--no, that's not it. How do I know? Because it's a cat. All right, then why's it washing itself? No, I'm sorry, dogs don't do that--'
'--no, madam, that's a bulldog--'
'--no, that's not it. No, sir, I know that's not it. Because it's a parrot, that's why. You've taught it to bark and you've painted "DoG" on the side of it but it's still a parrot--'
Sacharissa pushed her hair out of her eyes and caught sight of William.
'Well, now, who's been a clever boy?' she said.