Terry Pratchett - The Truth

'Oh? You say? You think I bite him? Shall I bite you, Mister Lordship? Veil, maybe not, because Villiam here thinks I am a good person.' He pulled Lord de Worde close, so their faces were a few inches apart. 'Now, maybe I have to ask myself, how good am I? Or maybe I just have to ask myself... am I better zan you?' He hesitated for a second or two and then in a sudden movement jerked the man towards him.

With great delicacy, he planted a kiss on Lord de Worde's forehead. Then he put the trembling man back down on the floor and patted him on the head.

'Actually, maybe zer cocoa is not too bad and zer young lady who plays zer harmonium, sometimes she vinks at me,' he said, stepping aside.

Lord de Worde opened his eyes, and looked at William.

'How dare you--'

'Shut up,' said William. 'Now, I'm going to tell you what's going to happen. I'm not going to name names. That's my decision. I don't want my mother to have been married to a traitor, you see. Then there's Rupert. And my sisters. And me, too. I'm protecting the name. That's probably very wrong of me, and I'm going to do it anyway. I'm going to disobey you one more time, in fact. I won't

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tell the truth. Not the whole truth. Besides, I am sure that those who want to know these things will find out soon enough. And I daresay they'll sort it out quietly. You know... just like you do,'

'Traitor?' whispered Lord de Worde.

'That is what people would say.'

Lord de Worde nodded, like a man caught in an unpleasant dream.

'I could not possibly take the money,' he said. 'I wish you joy of it, my son. Because... you are most certainly a de Worde. Good day to you.' He turned and walked away. After a few seconds the distant door creaked open and shut quietly.

William staggered to a pillar. He was shaking. He replayed the meeting in his head. His brain hadn't touched the ground the whole time.

'Are you okay, Villiam?' said Otto.

'I feel sick, but... yeah, I'm all right. Of all the bone-headed, stubborn, self-centred, arrogant--'

'But you make up for it in other vays,' said Otto.

'I meant my father.'

'Oh.'

'He's just so certain he's in the right all the time--'

'Sorry, this is still your father ve're talking about?'

'Are you saying I'm like him?'

'Oh, no. Qvite different. Absolutely qvite different. No similarities votsoever.'

'You didn't need to go that far!' He stopped. 'Did I say "thank you"?'

'No, you did not.'

'Oh, dear.'

'No, you noticed that you didn't, so zat is okay,' said Otto. 'Every day, in every vay, ve get better and better. By the vay, vould you mind pulling this sword out of me? Vot kind of idiot just sticks it in a vampire? All it does is mess up zer linen.'

'Let me help--' William gingerly withdrew the blade.

'Can I put zis shirt on my expenses?'

'Yes, I think so.'

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'Good. And now it is all over and time for revards and medals,' said the vampire cheerfully, adjusting his jacket. 'So vhere are your troubles now?'

'Just starting,' said William. 'I think I'm going to be seeing the inside of the Watch House in less than an hour,'

In fact it was forty-three minutes later that William de Worde was Helping the Watch, as they say, with Their Inquiries.

On the other side of the table Commander Vimes was carefully re-reading the Times. He was, William knew, taking longer than necessary in order to make him nervous.

'I can help you with any long words you don't recognize,' he volunteered.

'It's very good,' said Vimes, ignoring this. 'But I need to know more. I need to know the names. I think you know the names. Where did they meet? Things like that. I need to know them,'

'Some things are a mystery to me,' said William. 'You've got more than enough evidence to release Lord Vetinari,'

'I want to know more,'

'Not from me,'

'Come on, Mr de Worde. We're on the same side here!'

'No. We're just on two different sides that happen to be side by side,'

'Mr de Worde, earlier today you assaulted one of my officers. Do you know how much trouble you are in already?'

'I expected better of you than that, Mister Vimes,' said William. 'Are you saying I assaulted an officer in uniform? An officer who identified themself to me?'

'Be careful, Mr de Worde,'

'I was being followed by a werewolf, commander. I took steps to... inconvenience it so that I could get away. Would you like to debate this publicly?'

I'm being an arrogant, lying, supercilious bastard, thought William. And I'm good at it.

'Then you give me no choice but to arrest you for concealing--'

'I demand a lawyer,' said William.

'Really? And who did you have in mind at this time of night?'

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'Mr Slant.'

'Slant? You think he'll come out for you?'

'No. I know he'll come out. Believe me.'

'Oh, he will, will he?'

"Trust me.'

'Come now,' said Vimes, smiling. 'Do we need this? It's the duty of every citizen to help the Watch, isn't it?'

I don't know. I know the Watch think it is. I've never seen it written down,' said William. 'There again, I never knew it was the right of the Watch to spy on innocent people.'

He saw the smile freeze.

'It was for your own good,' Vimes growled.

'I didn't know it was your job to decide what was good for me.'

This time Vimes won a small prize. 'I'm not going to be led, either,' he said. 'But I have reason to believe that you are withholding information about a major crime, and that is an offence. That's against the law.'

'Mr Slant will come up with something. There's some precedent, I'll bet. He'll go back hundreds of years. The Patricians have always set great store by precedent. Mr Slant will dig and dig. For years if necessary. That's how he got where he is today, by digging.'

Vimes leaned forward. 'Between you and me, and without your notebook,' he muttered, 'Mr Slant is a devious dead bastard who can bend such law as we have into a puzzle ring.'

'Yep,' said William. 'And he's my lawyer. I guarantee it.'

'Why would Mr Slant speak up on your behalf?' said Vimes, staring at William.

William matched him eyeball for eyeball. It's true, he thought. I'm my father's son. All I have to do is use it.

'Because he's a very fair man?' he said. 'Now, are you going to send a runner to fetch him? Because if you're not you've got to let me go.'

Without taking his gaze off William, Vimes reached down and unhooked the speaking tube from the side of his desk. He whistled into it and then put it to his ear. There was a sound like a mouse pleading for mercy at the other end of a drainpipe.

'Yata whipsie poitl swup?'

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Vimes put the tube to his mouth. 'Sergeant, send someone up to take Mr de Worde down to the cells, will you?'

'Swyddle yumyumpwipwipwip?'

Vimes sighed and replaced the pipe. He got up and opened the door.

'Fred, send someone to take Mr de Worde down to the cells, will you?' he yelled. 'I'm calling it protective custody for now,' he added, turning to William.

'Protecting me from whom?'

'Well, I personally have an overwhelming urge to give you a ding alongside the ear,' said Vimes. 'And I suspect there are others out there without my self-control.'

It was in fact quite peaceful in the cells. The bunk was comfortable. The walls were covered with graffiti, and William passed the time correcting the spelling.

The door was unlocked again. A stony-faced constable escorted William back up to Vimes's office.

Mr Slant was there. He gave William an impassive nod. Commander Vimes was sitting in front of a small yet significant pile of paper and had the look of a beaten man.

'I believe Mr de Worde can go free,' said Mr Slant.

Vimes shrugged. 'I'm only amazed you aren't asking me to give him a gold medal and an illuminated scroll of thanks. But I'm setting bail at one thou--'