people were still talking. Snouty was going round with a tray of cocoa. Out in the street, some of the watchmen were standing around a makeshift fire with the remnant of the crowd.
‘Well, I must say I’in impressed,’ he said. ‘Sounds like you’re the only Watch House not under siege tonight. I don’t want to know how you did it.’
‘Luck played a part,’ said Vimes. ‘And I’ve got three men who carry no personal identification whatsoever in the cells, and another anonymous wouldbe assassin who has been
assassinated.’
‘Quite a problem,’ said Lawn. ‘Now me, I just have to deal with simple mysteries like what the rash means.’
‘I intend to solve mine quite quickly,’ said Vimes.
The Assassin moved quietly from roof to roof until he was well away from the excitement around the Watch House.
His movements could be called catlike, except that he did not stop to spray urine up against things.
Eventually he reached one of the upper world’s many hidden places, where several thickets of chimneys made a little sheltered space, invisible from the ground and from most of the surrounding roofscape. He didn’t enter it immediately, but
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circled it for a while, moving with absolute silence from one vantage point to another.
What would have intrigued a watcher who knew the ways of Ankh-Morpork’s Guild of Assassins was how invisible this one was. When he moved, you saw movement; when he stopped, he wasn’t there. Magic would have been suspected and, in an oblique way, the watcher would have been right. Ninety per cent of most magic merely consists of knowing one extra fact.
At last the figure appeared satisfied, and dropped into the space. He picked up a bag from its nesting place between the smoking pots, and there was some faint swishing and heavier breathing that suggested clothes were being changed.
After a minute or so he emerged from the hidden niche and now, somehow, he was visible. Hard to see, yes, one shadow among others, but nevertheless there in a way that he had not been before, when he’d been as visible as the breeze.
He dropped lightly on to a leanto roof and thence to the ground, where he stepped into a handy shadow. Then there was a further transformation.
It was done quite easily. The evil little crossbow was
disassembled and slipped into the pockets of a clinkfree velvet bag, the soft leather slippers were exchanged for a pair of heavier boots that had been stashed in the shadow, and the black hood was pushed back.
He walked lightly around the corner and waited a few
minutes.
A coach came along, its torches trailing flame. It slowed briefly, and its door opened and shut.
The Assassin settled back in his seat as the coach picked up speed again.
There was a very faint lamp in the carriage. Its glow revealed a female figure relaxing in the shadows opposite. As the coach
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passed a torch there was a suggestion of lilac silk.
‘You’ve missed a bit,’ said the figure. It produced a
lilaccoloured handkerchief and held it in front of the young man’s face. ‘Spit,’ came the command.
Reluctantly, he did so. A hand wiped his cheek, and then held the cloth up to the light.
‘Dark green,’ said the woman. ‘How strange. I understand, Havelock, that you scored zero in your examination for stealthy movement.’
‘May I ask how you found that out, Madam?’
‘Oh, one hears things,’ Madam said lightly. ‘One just has to hold money up to one’s ear.’
‘Well, it was true,’ said the Assassin.
‘And why was this?’
‘The examiner thought I’d used trickery. Madam.’
‘And did you?’
‘Of course. I thought that was the idea.’
‘And you never attended his lessons, he said.’
‘Oh, I did. Religiously.’
‘He says he never saw you at any of them.’
Havelock smiled. ‘And your point, Madam, is…?’
Madam laughed. ‘Will you take some champagne?’ There was the sound of a bottle moving in an ice bucket.
‘Thank you, Madam, but no.’
‘As you wish. I shall. And now… report, please.’
‘I can’t believe what I saw. I thought he was a thug. And he is a thug. You can see his muscles thinking for him. But he overrules them moment by moment! I think I saw a genius at work, but…’
‘What?’
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‘He’s just a sergeant, Madam.’
‘Don’t underestimate him on that account. It is a very useful rank for the right man. The optimum balance of power and responsibility. Incidentally, they say he can read the street through the soles of his boots and keeps them very thin for that purpose.’
‘Hmm. There are plenty of different surfaces, that’s true, but…’
‘You’re always so solemn about these things, Havelock. Not at all like your late father. Think… mythologically. He can read the street. He can hear its voice, take its temperature, read its mind; it talks to him through his boots. Policemen are just as superstitious as other people. Every other Watch House was attacked tonight. Oh, Swing’s people egged it on, but it was malice and stupidity that did the most damage. But not in Treacle Mine Road. No. Keel opened the doors and let the street inside. I wish I knew more about him. I’in told that in Pseudopolis he was considered to be slow, thoughtful, sensible.
He certainly seems to have bloomed here.’
‘I inhumed a man who attempted to nip him in the bud.’
‘Really? That doesn’t sound like Swing. How much do I owe you?’
The young man called Havelock gave a shrug. ‘Call it a
dollar,’ he said.
‘That’s very cheap.’
‘He wasn’t worth more. I should warn you, though. Soon you may want me to deal with Keel.’
‘Surely someone like him wouldn’t side with people like Winder and Swing?’
‘He’s a side all by himself. He is a complication. You may think it best if he… ceased to complicate.’
The rattling of the coach underlined the silence this remark
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caused. It was moving through a richer part of the city now, where there was more light and the curfew, being for poorer people, was less rigorously observed. The figure opposite the Assassin stroked the cat on her lap.
‘No. He’ll serve some purpose,’ said Madam. ‘Everyone is ‘
telling me about Keel. In a world where we all move in curves he proceeds in a straight line. And going straight in a world of curves makes things happen.’
She stroked the cat. It yowled softly. It was ginger and had an expression of astonishing smugness, although periodically it scratched at its collar.
‘On a different subject,’ she said, ‘what was that business with the book? I did not like to take too much notice.’
‘Oh, it was an extremely rare volume I was able to track down. On the nature of concealment.’
‘That stupid hulk of a boy burned it!’
‘Yes. That was a piece of luck. I was afraid he might try to read it, although,’ Havelock smiled wanly, ‘someone would have had to help him with the longer words.’
‘Was it valuable?’
‘Priceless. Especially now it has been destroyed.’
‘Ah. It contained information of value. Possibly involving the colour dark green. Will you tell me?’
‘I could tell you,’ Havelock smiled again. ‘But then I would have to find someone to pay me to kill you.’
‘Then don’t tell me. But I do think Dogbotherer is an
unpleasant nickname.’
‘When your name is Vetinari, Madam, you’re happy enough if it’s merely Dogbotherer. Can you drop me off a little way from the Guild, please? I’ll go in via the roof. I have a tiger to attend to before I go up to… you know.’
‘A tiger. How exciting.’ She stroked the cat again. ‘You’ve
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found your way in yet?’
Vetinari shrugged. ‘I’ve known my way for years, Madam. But now he has half a regiment around the palace. Four or five guards on each door, with irregular patrols and spot checks. I can’t get through them. Only let me get inside, please, and the men there are no problem.’
The cat pawed at its collar.
‘Is it possible that he is allergic to diamonds?’ said Madam.
She held up the cat. ‘Is oo allergic to diamonds, den?’
Havelock sighed, but inwardly, because he respected his aunt.
He just wished she was a bit more sensible about cats. He felt instinctively that if you were going to fondle a cat while discussing matters of intrigue, then it should be a longhaired white one. It shouldn’t be an elderly street torn with irregular bouts of flatulence.
‘What about the sergeant?’ he said, shifting along the seat as politely as possible.
The lady all in lilac lowered the cat gently on to the seat.
There was a distressing smell.
‘I think I should meet Mr Keel as soon as possible,’ she said.
‘Perhaps he can be harnessed. The party is tomorrow night. Uh…