Feet of Clay

‘But you take home the candle stubs? Still half an hour of light in ’em, I expect, if you burn them in a saucer?’ said Vimes gently.

‘But that’s not stealing, sir! That’s perks, sir.’

Sam Vimes smacked his forehead. ‘Perks! Of course! That was the word I was looking for. Perks! Everyone’s got to have perks, aren’t I right? Well, that’s fine, then,’ he said. ‘I expect you get the ones from the bedrooms, yes?’

Even through her nervousness, Mildred Easy was able to grin the grin of someone with an Entitlement that lesser beings hadn’t got. ‘Yessir. I’m allowed, sir. They’re much better than the ole coarse ones we use in the main halls, sir.’

‘And you put in fresh candles when necessary, do you?’

‘Yessir.’

Probably slightly more often than necessary, Vimes thought. No point in letting them burn down too much …

‘Perhaps you can show me where they’re kept, miss?’

The maid looked along the table to the housekeeper, who glanced at Commander Vimes and then nodded. She was bright enough to know when something that sounded like a question really wasn’t one.

‘We keep them in the candle pantry next door, sir,’ said Mildred.

‘Lead the way, please.’

It wasn’t a big room, but its shelves were stacked floor-to-ceiling with candles. There were the yard-high ones used in the public halls and the small everyday ones used everywhere else, sorted according to quality.

‘These are what we uses in his lordship’s rooms, sir.’ She handed him twelve inches of white candle.

‘Oh, yes … very good quality. Number Fives. Nice white tallow,’ said Vimes, tossing it up and down. ‘We burn these at home. The stuff we use at the Yard is damn near pork dripping. We get ours from Carry’s in the Shambles now. Very reasonable prices. We used to deal with Spadger and Williams but Mr Carry’s really cornered the market these days, hasn’t he?’

‘Yessir. And he delivers ’em special, sir.’

‘And you put these candles in his lordship’s room every day?’

‘Yessir.’

‘Anywhere else?’

‘Oh, no, sir. His lordship’s particular about that! We just use Number Threes.’

‘And you take your, er, perks home?’

‘Yessir. Gran said they gave a lovely light, sir …’

‘I expect she sat up with your little brother, did she? Because I expect he got took sick first, so she sat up with him all night long, night after night and, hah, if I know old Mrs Easy, she did her sewing …’

‘Yessir.’

There was a pause.

‘Use my handkerchief,’ said Vimes, after a while.

‘Am I going to lose my position, sir?’

‘No. That’s definite. No one involved deserves to lose their jobs,’ said Vimes. He looked at the candle. ‘Except possibly me,’ he added.

He stopped at the doorway, and turned. ‘And if you ever want candle-ends, we’ve always got lots at the Watch House. Nobby’ll have to start buying cooking fat like everyone else.’

‘What’s it doing now?’ said Sergeant Colon.

Wee Mad Arthur peered over the edge of the roof again. ‘It’s havin’ problems with its elbows,’ he said conversationally. ‘It keeps lookin’ at one of ’em and tryin’ it all ways up and it’s not workin’.’

‘I had that trouble when I put up them kitchen units for Mrs Colon,’ said the sergeant. ‘The instructions on how to open the box were inside the box—’

‘Oh-oh, it’s worked it out,’ said the rat-catcher. ‘Looks like it had it mixed up with its knees after all.’

Colon heard a clank below him.

‘And now it’s gone round the corner’ — there was a crash of splintering wood — ‘and now it’s got into the building. I expect it’ll come up the stairs, but it looks like yer’ll be okay.’

‘Why?’

‘’cos all you gotta do is let go of the roof, see?’

‘I’ll drop to my death!’

‘Right! Nice clean way to go. None of that “arms-and-legs-bein’-ripped-off” stuff first.’

‘I wanted to buy a farm!’ moaned Colon.

‘Could be,’ said Arthur.^{85} He looked over the roof again. ‘Or,’ he said, as if this were hardly a better option, ‘yez could try to grab the drainpipe.’

Colon looked sideways. There was a pipe a few feet away. If he swung his body and really made an effort, he might just miss it by inches and plunge to his death.

‘Does it look safe?’ he said.

‘Compared with what, mister?’

Colon tried to swing his legs like a pendulum. Every muscle in his arm screamed at him. He knew he was overweight. He’d always meant to take exercise one day. He just hadn’t been aware that it was going to be today.

‘I reckon I can hear it walking up the stairs,’ said Wee Mad Arthur.

Colon tried to swing faster. ‘What’re you going to do?’ he said.

‘Oh, don’t yez worry about me,’ said Wee Mad Arthur. ‘I’ll be fine. I’ll jump.’

‘Jump?’

‘Sure. I’ll be safe ’cos of being normal-sized, see.’

‘You think you’re normal-sized?’

Wee Mad Arthur looked at Colon’s hands. ‘Are these yer fingers right here by my boots?’ he said.

‘Right, right, you’re normal-sized. ’S not your fault you’ve moved into a city full of giants,’ said Colon.