Men at Arms (Discworld 15)

'A man'd have to be a fool to break into the Assassins' Guild,' he said.

'Yes, sir.'

The anger had burned away the fumes. Once again he felt . . . not, not the thrill, that wasn't the right word . . . the sense of something. He still wasn't sure what it was. But it was there, waiting for him—

'Samuel Vimes, what's going on?'

Lady Ramkin shut the dining-room door behind her.

'I was watching you,' she said. 'You were being very rude, Sam.'

'I was trying not to be.'

'Lord Eorle is a very old friend.'

'Is he?'

'Well, I've known him a long time. I can't stand the man, actually. But you were making him look foolish.'

'He was making himself look foolish. I was merely helping.'

'But I've often heard you being . . . rude about dwarfs and trolls.'

'That's different. I've got a right. That idiot wouldn't know a troll if it walked over him.'

'Oh, he would know if a troll walked over him,' said Carrot, helpfully. 'Some of them weigh as much as—'

'What's so important, anyway?' said Lady Ramkin.

'We're . . . looking for whoever killed Chubby,' said Vimes.

Lady Ramkin's expression changed instantly.

'That's different, of course,' she said. 'People like that should be publicly flogged.'

Why did I say that? thought Vimes. Maybe because it's true. The . . . gonne . . . goes missing, next minute there's a little dwarf artificer thrown in the river with a nasty draught where his chest should be. They're linked. Now all I have to do is find the links . . .

'Carrot, can you come back with me to Hammer-hock's?'

'Yes, captain. Why?'

'I want to see inside that workshop. And this time I've got a dwarf with me.'

More than that, he added, I've got Corporal Carrot. Everyone likes Corporal Carrot.

Vimes listened while the conversation droned on in dwarfish. Carrot seemed to be winning, but it was a near thing. The clan was giving in not because of reason, or in obedience to the law, but because . . . well . . . because it was Carrot who was asking.

Finally, the corporal looked up. He was sitting on a dwarf stool, so his knees practically framed his head.

'You have to understand, you see, that a dwarf's workshop is very important.'

'Right,' said Vimes. 'I understand.'

'And, er . . . you're a bigger.'

'Sorry?'

'A bigger. Bigger than a dwarf.'