Snuff

Drumknott nodded. ‘Indeed, sir, but on that note, if you will permit me to extend that note a little, may I remind you that Commander Vimes is waiting in the other room.’

‘Indeed? Show him in, by all means.’

Vimes marched in, saluted very nearly smartly, and stood to attention.

‘Ah, your grace, it is good to see you back at last. How went your holidays, apart from lawless actions, ad hoc activities, fights, chases on both land and sea and indeed fresh water, unauthorized expenditure and, of course, farting in the halls of the mighty?’

Vimes’s gaze was steady and just above the Patrician’s eye line. ‘Point of detail, my lord: didn’t fart, may have picked nose inadvertently.’

‘The exigencies of the service, I assume?’ said Lord Vetinari wryly. ‘Vimes, you have caused a considerable amount of paperwork to cross my desk in the last few days. In some cases the writers wanted your head on a plate, others were more circumspect because the writers were in mortal dread of a prison cell. Can I make one thing perfectly clear, your grace, the law cannot operate retrospectively. If it did, none of us would be safe.

‘Lord Rust junior may have done, indeed has done many bad things, but making slaves of goblins under current law cannot be one of them. However, as I suspect, the recent revelations about his additional activities have done his reputation a considerable amount of no good. You might not know this, Vimes, but in society this sort of thing can be worse than a prison sentence, possibly worse than a death. Young Gravid is a man with not many friends right now. I hope that will give you some pleasure.’

Vimes said nothing, but he thought, The ball dropped.

Vetinari glared at him and said, ‘I have here an eloquent missive from Lord Rust senior, pleading for the life of, if not the freedom of, his son, who he fully admits has trodden the family honour into the mud.’ Lord Vetinari held up a hand. ‘His lordship is an old man and so, Vimes, if your next remark was going to be something on the lines of even further then I suggest you deploy a little charity. His lordship is anxious to avoid a scandal. Apart from that, may I have your views?’

‘Yes. The scandal has already taken place, sir, more than once,’ said Vimes coldly. ‘He trafficked in living, breathing and thinking people. Many of them died!’

‘Once again, Vimes, I have to tell you that laws cannot be made retrospectively.’

‘That may be so,’ said Vimes, ‘but what about the troll kids, who took that damn rubbish? Are you going to ask the Diamond King if they should be retrospective?’

‘I can assure you, Vimes, that the laws will be upheld, and since you ask, right now I am having to negotiate with the King, who is demanding, demanding of me – me, Vimes – that young Lord Rust be handed over for questioning regarding the manufacture and distribution of absolutely deadly troll narcotics. Of course, under troll law the wretched man would be put to death, and I am saddened to say that at this moment in the complex world of human, troll and dwarven politics, I feel that that might have some long-term repercussions, making it an unfortunate option for this city. I have to negotiate this problem, and, believe me, it’s going to take a lot of quid for the pro quo. And it’s only nine thirty in the morning!’

Vimes’s knuckles reddened. ‘They are living creatures who can talk and think and have songs and names, and he treated them like some kind of disposable tools.’