He stared at the wall, tapping his teeth with his pencil.
‘I’m going to see Commander Vimes,’ he said at last. ‘It’s better than hiding.’
‘We’re being invited to all sorts of things,’ said Sacharissa, looking up from her paperwork. ‘Well, I say invited . . . Lady Selachii has ordered us to attend her ball on Thursday next week and write at least 500 words which we will of course let her see before publication.’
‘Good idea,’ Goodmountain called over his shoulder. ‘Lots of names at balls, and–‘
‘–names sell newspapers,’ said William. ‘Yes. I know. Do you want to go?’
‘Me? I haven’t got anything to wear!’ said Sacharissa. ‘It’d cost forty dollars for the kind of dress you wear to that sort of thing. And we can’t afford that kind of money.’
William hesitated. Then he said: ‘Stand up and twirl around, could you?’
She actually blushed. ‘Whatever for?’
‘I want to see what size you are . . . you know, all over.’
She stood up and turned around nervously. There was a chorus of whistles from the crew and a number of untranslatable comments in dwarfish.
‘You’re pretty close,’ said William. ‘If I could get you a really good dress, could you find someone to make any adjustments you need? It might have to be let out a bit in the, in the, you know . . . in the top.’
‘What kind of dress?’ she said suspiciously.
‘My sister’s got hundreds of evening dresses and she spends all her time at our place in the country,” said William. The family never comes back to the city these days. I’ll give you the key to the town house this evening and you can go and help yourself.’
‘Won’t she mind?’ „
‘She’ll probably never notice. Anyway,* think she’d be shocked
127
to find that anyone could spend as little as forty dollars on a dress. Don’t worry about it.’
Town house? Place in the country?’ said Sacharissa, displaying an inconveniently journalistic trait of picking on the words you hoped wouldn’t be noticed.
‘My family’s rich,’ said William. ‘I’m not.’
He glanced at the rooftop opposite when he stepped outside, because something in its outline was different, and saw a spiky head outlined against the afternoon sky.
It was a gargoyle. William had got used to seeing them everywhere in the city. Sometimes one would stay in the same place for months at a time. You seldom saw them actually moving from one roof to another. But you also seldom saw them at all in districts like this. Gargoyles liked high stone buildings with lots of gutters and fiddly architecture, which attracted pigeons. Even gargoyles have to eat.
There was also something going on further down the street. Several large carts were outside one of the old warehouses, and crates were being carried inside.
He spotted several more gargoyles on the way across the bridge to Pseudopolis Yard. Every single one of them turned its head to watch him.
Sergeant Detritus was on duty at the desk. He looked at William in surprise.
‘By damn, dat was quick. You run all der way?’ he said.
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Mister Vimes only sent for you a coupla minutes ago,’ said Detritus. ‘Go on up, I should. Don’t worry, he’s stopped shoutin’,’ He gave William a rather-you-than-me look. ‘But he are not glad about being in a tent, as dey say.’
‘Has he ever been a happy camper?’
‘Not much,’ said Detritus, grinning evilly.
William climbed the stairs and knocked at the door, which swung open.
Commander Vimes looked up from his desk. His eyes narrowed.
‘Well, well, that was quick,’ he said. ‘Ran all the way, did you?’
128
‘No, sir, I was coming here hoping to ask you some questions.’
‘That was kind of you,’ said Vimes.
There was a definite feeling that although the little village was quiet at the moment – women hanging out washing, cats sleeping in the sun – soon the volcano was going to explode and hundreds were going to be buried in the ash.
‘So–‘ William began.
‘Why did you do this?’ said Vimes. William could see the Times on the desk in front of the commander. He could read the headlines from here:
Patrician Attacks Clerk With Knife
(He had the knife, not the clerk)
==================================
MYSTERIOUS EVENTS IN STABLES
Strange Smell of Peppermint
WATCH BAFFLED
‘Baffled, am I?’ said Vimes.
‘If you are telling me that you are not, commander, I will be happy to make a note of the fa–‘
‘Leave that notebook alone!’
William looked surprised. The notebook was the cheapest kind, made of paper recycled so many times you could use it as a towel, but once again someone was glaring at it as if it was a weapon.
‘I won’t have you doing to me what you did to Slant,’ said Vimes.
‘Every word of that story is true, sir.’
129
‘I’d bet on it. It sounds like his style.’
‘Look, commander, if there’s something wrong with my story, tell me what it is.’
Vimes sat back and waved his hands.
‘Are you going to print everything you hear?’ he said. ‘Do you intend to run around my city like some loose . . . loose siege weapon? You sit there clutching your precious integrity like a teddy bear and you haven’t the faintest idea, have you, not the faintest idea how hard you can make my job?’
‘It’s not against the law to–‘
‘Isn’t it? Isn’t it, though? In Ankh-Morpork? Stuff like this? It reads like Behaviour Likely to Cause a Breach of the Peace to me\’
‘It might upset people, but this is important–‘
‘And what will you write next, I wonder?’
‘I haven’t printed that you have a werewolf employed in the Watch,’ said William. He regretted it instantly, but Vimes was getting on his nerves.
‘Where did you hear that?’ said a quiet voice behind him. He turned in his chair. A fair-haired young woman in Watch uniform was leaning against the wall. She must have been there all the time.
‘This is Sergeant Angua,’ said Vimes. ‘You can speak freely in front of her.’
‘I’ve . . . heard rumours,’ said William. He’d seen the sergeant in the streets. She had a habit of staring a bit too sharply at people, he’d considered.
‘And?’
‘Look, I can see this is worrying you,’ said William. ‘Please let me assure you that Corporal Nobbs’s secret is safe with me.’
No one spoke. William congratulated himself. It had been a shot in the dark, but he could tell by Sergeant Angua’s face that he’d won this one. It seemed to have shut down, locking away all expression.
‘We don’t often talk about Corporal Nobbs’s species,’ said Vimes, after a while. ‘I would deem it a small favour if you would take the same approach.’
‘Yes, sir. So could I ask you why you’re having me watched?’
130
‘I am?’
The gargoyles. Everyone knows a lot of them work for the Watch these days.’
‘We’re not watching you. We’re watching to see what happens to you,’ said Sergeant Angua.
‘Because of this,’ said Vimes, slapping the newspaper.
‘But I’m not doing anything wrong,’ said William.
‘No, it may just be you’re not doing anything illegal,’ said Vimes. ‘Although you’re coming damn close. Other people do not have my kind and understanding disposition, though. All I ask is that you try not to bleed all over the street.’
‘I’ll try.’
‘And don’t write that down.’
‘Fine.’
‘And don’t write down that I said don’t write that down.’
‘Okay. Can I write down that you said that I shouldn’t write down that you said–‘ William stopped. The mountain was rumbling. ‘Only joking.’
‘Haha. And no tapping my officers for information.’
‘And no giving dog biscuits to Corporal Nobbs,’ said Sergeant Angua. She walked around behind Vimes and peered over his shoulder. “The Truth Shall Make Ye Fret”?’
‘Printer’s error,’ said William shortly. ‘Anything else I shouldn’t do, commander?’
‘Just don’t get in the way.’
‘I’ll make a– I’ll remember,’ said William. ‘But, if you don’t mind my asking, what’s in it for me?’
Tm Commander of the Watch and I’m asking you politely.’
‘And that’s it?’
‘I could ask you impolitely, Mr de Worde.’ Vimes sighed. ‘Look, can you see things my way? A crime has been committed. The Guilds are in an uproar. You’ve heard of too many chiefs? Well, right now there’s a hundred many chiefs. I’ve Captain Carrot and a lot of men I really can’t spare guarding the Oblong Office and the rest of the clerks, which means I’m short-handed everywhere else. I’ve got to deal with all this and . . . actively pursue & state of non-bafflement. I’ve got Vetinari in the cells. And Drumknolt, too–‘
131
‘But wasn’t he the victim, sir?’
‘One of my men is tending him.’
‘Not one of the city doctors?’
Vimes stared fixedly at the notebook. ‘The doctors of this city are a fine body of men,’ he said in a level tone, ‘and I would not see a word written against them. One of my staff just happens to have . . . special skills.’