Snuff

‘Indeed, Vimes, but, as I have indicated, goblins have always been considered a kind of vermin. However, Ankh-Morpork, the kingdom of the Low King and also that of the Diamond King, Uberwald, Lancre and all the independent cities of the plain are passing a law to the effect that goblins will henceforth be considered as sapient beings, equal to, if not the same as, trolls and dwarfs and humans and werewolves, et cetera et cetera, answerable to what we have agreed to call “the common law” and also protected by it. That means killing one would be a capital crime. You have won, commander, you have won. Because of a song, commander. Oh, and of course other efforts, but it was your wife who got most of the ambassadors to her little amusement which, I may say, Vimes, was eloquence personified. Though frankly, Vimes, I find myself shamed. One spends one’s life scheming, negotiating, giving and taking and greasing such wheels as squeak, and in general doing one’s best to stop this battered old world from exploding into pieces. And now, because of a piece of music, Vimes, a piece of music, some very powerful states have agreed to work together to heal the problems of another autonomous state and, almost as collateral, turn some animals into people at a stroke. Can you imagine that, Vimes? In what world could that possibly happen? All because of a song at twilight, Vimes. All because of a song. It was a thing of strangely tinkling tones and unbelievable cadences which somehow found its way into our souls, reminding some of us that we have some. Lady Sybil is worth a dozen diplomats. You are a lucky man, commander.’

Vimes opened his mouth to speak, but Vetinari interrupted. ‘And also a bloody fool, a bloody, headstrong fool. The law must start with a crime? I understand, but don’t condone.’ Vetinari picked the letter off his desk. ‘Lord Rust asks that his son be given a moderately short sentence, subsequent to which he be allowed to emigrate to Fourecks, to start a new life. Since the man was deeply involved in smuggling the fine will be harsh.’

He held up a hand. ‘No, hear me out; after all, I am the tyrant in this vicinity.’ Vetinari slumped into his chair, wiped his brow and said, ‘And I have already lost my temper with an otherwise inoffensive sweet lady who compiles crossword puzzles for the Times. However, Vimes, Lord Rust refers to you as a man of honour and probity and astonishing integrity and vigilance. Moreover, he is disinheriting his son, which means upon his death his title will devolve to his daughter Regina, a ferocious woman, very difficult and hot-headed. And that, Vimes, creates another problem for me. His lordship is extremely frail and, frankly, I was looking forward to dealing with the son, who is an ignorant, arrogant, pompous idiot, but his sister? She is smart!’ and then, almost to himself, Lord Vetinari added, ‘But at least she doesn’t compile crosswords … Now you may speak, commander.’

‘There was a murder,’ said Vimes sullenly.

Vetinari sighed hugely. ‘No, Vimes! There was a slaughter! Do you not understand? At that point goblins were vermin and no, do not shout at me! At this very moment in palaces and chancelleries all over the world goblins are becoming as human as you or I, but that was then. I would like you to be fully aware that the reason that Stratford would have gone to the tender mercies of Mister Trooper is that he and his ruffians boarded the Enormous Fanny—Yes, what is it?’

Vetinari looked round as Drumknott tapped him on the shoulder. There was a muffled whispering before Vetinari cleared his throat and said, ‘Of course, I meant the Wonderful Fanny,’ and he did not exactly meet Vimes’s gaze as he continued. ‘That was an act of piracy and the good people of Quirm, where the … boat in question was registered, are all in favour of the death penalty for that kind of thing. I am aware of his manifold other crimes but, alas, you can only hang a man once … Although, as it turned out, apparently Mister Stratford was mortally wounded in a collision three nights ago, being thrown some distance from the wreckage with a surgically cut throat. Convenient, don’t you think?’

‘Don’t you dare look at me like that, sir.’

‘Heavens, I wouldn’t accuse you, commander, I was just wondering if you knew of any other person with a grudge against the corpse?’

‘Nosir,’ said Vimes, pulling himself to attention.

‘You know, Vimes, sometimes your expression becomes so wooden that I think I could make a table out of it. Just tell me this: did you give any instructions?’

How does he do it? thought Vimes. How? Out loud he said, ‘I don’t know what you are talking about, sir, but if what I suspect to be true is so, then the answer is no. If there was any foul play that night it wasn’t by my order. I wanted to see Stratford on the gallows. That’s legal.’ And he thought, I am never going to broach the subject with Willikins.