Terry Pratchett - Snuff

‘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.

Vetinari’s eyebrows rose as Vimes went on, ‘But his lordship’s wretched son is being allowed to go on a long holiday full of sun, sea, surf and sand and economically priced wines!’ He slammed his fist on the desk and Vetinari looked pointedly at it until Vimes took it away. ‘Are you going to leave it at that?’

‘It has been known, as people put it, for the leopard to change its shorts. All of us hope for a little redemption, whether we deserve it or not. We will keep an eye on the young fool, you can be certain of that.’

‘Oh, you’re sending the Dark Clerks after him?’

‘Vimes, the Dark Clerks are a myth, as everybody knows. To tell you the truth, some flunkey from our embassy down there will pay attention to his progress. And now the world is a better place, commander. You have no understanding, Vimes, no understanding at all of the deals, stratagems and unseen expedients by which some of us make shift to see that it remains that way. Do not seek perfection. None exists. All we can do is strive. Understand this, commander, because from where I sit you have no alternative. And remember, for this week’s work you will be remembered. Lord Rust may not like it but news travels fast. The truth will be known and written down in the history books.’ Vetinari gave a wan smile. ‘It will, I shall see to it. And, slightly better than before, the world will continue to turn.’

Vetinari picked up yet another piece of paper, appearing to glance at it, and said, ‘You may go, commander, in the knowledge that I, for so many reasons, envy you. My regards to your good lady.’

Vimes looked at Drumknott. The man’s face so assiduously betrayed nothing that it betrayed everything.

Vetinari pulled a file towards him and picked up his pen. ‘Don’t let me detain you, commander.’

An hour later Lord Vetinari was sitting at his desk with his fingers steepled, apparently lost in thought, staring at the ceiling, and, to Drumknott’s surprise, occasionally waving his hand as if conducting some hidden music. Drumknott knew enough not to disturb him, but at last he dared to say, ‘It was a most memorable recital, wasn’t it, sir?’

Vetinari ceased being the invisible conductor and said, brightly, ‘Yes, it was, wasn’t it? They say that the eyes of some paintings can follow you around the room, a fact that I doubt, but I am wondering whether some music can follow you for ever.’ He appeared to pull himself together and continued, ‘On the whole, the Rust dynasty, though not exactly empowered with brains, tends to be an honourable and patriotic bunch, by and large, am I not right, Drumknott?’

Drumknott meticulously and unnecessarily tidied some paperwork and said, ‘It is indeed so. Young Gravid is a regrettable exception.’

‘Do you think him beyond redemption?’ said Vetinari.

‘Quite likely not,’ said Drumknott, carefully folding a pen wiper. ‘However, Arachne is working in Fourecks at the moment as a filing clerk in our embassy. She pleaded for the position because she’s particularly attracted by venomous spiders.’

‘Well, I suppose every girl should have a hobby,’ said Vetinari. ‘And are there a lot of them in Fourecks?’

‘The place is positively overwhelmed, I am given to understand, sir, and apparently Arachne already has a large selection of them.’

Vetinari said nothing, but remained sitting with eyes closed.

Drumknott cleared his throat. ‘They do say, sir, that in the end all sins are forgiven?’

Reluctantly, Havelock, Lord Vetinari tore his recollection away from the wondrous music that he longed to hear again. ‘Not all, Drumknott, not all.’

In bed that night in Scoone Avenue, listening to the absence of owls and nightjars, Vimes said, ‘You know, dear, I’ll have to go back to the Shires soon. Feeney is a good lad but they need a proper headquarters and the right kind of guidance and that doesn’t mean just Nobby Nobbs and Fred Colon.’

Sybil turned over. ‘Oh, I don’t know, Sam. Fred and Nobby aren’t as bad as all that and might be all that’s needed right now. I mean, they’re coppers, but they amble about extremely slowly and on the whole it’s good to see them around. Right now you’ve got two young men full of vim and vigour and if you don’t want to upset things it might just be that, in that bewildered place, they should be backed up by slow and steady, don’t you think?’

‘You are, as always, right, my dear.’

‘Besides, I’ve seen Fred, and having to rethink his world view has clearly shaken him a little.’

‘He’ll get over it,’ said Vimes. ‘Once you get past the stupid Fred there is, against all expectations, a decent man there.’

Sybil sighed. ‘Yes, Sam, but that decent man needs a holiday out in the sunshine away from the smoke and the grime and the terrible spells.’

‘But they’re the best bits!’ said Vimes, laughing.

‘No, he needs a holiday. Everybody needs a holiday, Sam, even you.’

‘I’ve just had one, dear, thank you.’

‘No, you had a few days interspersed with fighting and floods and murders and I don’t know what else. Look at your desk, make certain everybody is on their toes, and then we’ll go down there for another week, do you hear me, Sam Vimes?’

AND THREE MONTHS later Sam Vimes went on holiday again, and this time he was allowed to steer the Black-Eyed Susan all the way to Quirm, hardly hitting anything important, and was so happy that they had to find another cat full of sixpences for him to be as happy as.

He was amazed at how much fun a holiday could be, but not so amazed as he was eight months after that when he and Sybil were invited to be guests at the wedding of Ms Emily Gordon to the eldest son of Sir Abuthknott Makewar, owner of the famous Makewar pottery manufactory and incidentally the inventor of Makewar’s Crispy Nuts, the breakfast cereal of champions, without whose nourishing roughage the bowels of Ankh-Morpork would be more congested than was good for them. The Vimeses’ wedding present was a silver egg coddler, Sybil being of the view that you can’t go wrong with a coddled egg.