'Sorry,' said Carrot again. 'It's just that . . . I think I'm having an idea. I wondered about it before . . . and I'm pretty certain now. I think I know about the person who did it. But I had to see the eggs to be sure.'
'You saying another clown killed him?' said Boffo belligerently. ' 'Cos if you are, I'm going straight to—'
'Not exactly,' said Carrot. 'But I can show you the killer's face.'
He reached down and took something from the debris on the table. Then he turned to Boffo and opened his hand. He had his back to Angua, and she could not quite see what he was holding. But Boffo gave a strangled cry and ran away down the avenue of faces, his big shoes flip-flopping hugely on the stone flags.
'Thank you,' said Carrot, at his retreating back. 'You've been very helpful.'
He folded his hand again.
'Come on,' he said. 'We'd better begoing. I don't think we're going to be popular here in a minute or two.'
'What was that you showed him?' Angua asked, as they proceeded with dignity yet speed towards the gate.
'It was something you came here to find, wasn't it? All that stuff about wanting to see the museum—'
'I did want to see it. A good copper should always be open to new experiences,' said Carrot.
They made it to the gate. No vengeful pies floated out of the darkness.
Angua leaned against the wall outside. The air smelled sweeter here, which was an unusual thing to say about Ankh-Morpork air. But at least out here people could laugh without getting paid for it.
'You didn't show me what frightened him,' she said.
'I showed him a murderer,' said Carrot. 'I'm sorry. I didn't think he'd take it like that. I suppose they're all a bit wound up right now. And it's like dwarfs and tools. Everyone thinks in their own ways.'
'You found the murderer's face in there?'
'Yes.'
Carrot opened his hand.
It contained a bare egg.
'He looks like this,' he said.
'He didn't have a face?'
'No, you're thinking like a clown. I am very simple,' said Carrot, 'but I think what happened was this. Someone in the Assassins wanted a way of getting in and out without being seen. He realized there's only a thin wall between the two Guilds. He had a room. All he had to do was find out who lived on the other side. Later he killed Beano, and he took his wig and his nose. His real nose. That's how clowns think. Make-up wouldn't have been hard. You can get that anywhere. He walked into the Guild made up to look like Beano. He cut through the wall. Then he strolled down to the quad outside the museum, only this time he was dressed as an Assassin.
He got the . . . the gonne and came back here. He went through the wall again, dressed up as Beano, and strolled away. And then someone killed him.'
'Boffo said Beano looked worried,' said Angua.
And I thought: that's odd, because you'd have to see a clown right up close to know what his real expression was. But you might notice if the make-up wasn't on quite right. Like, maybe, if it was put on by someone who wasn't too used to it. But the important thing is that if another clown sees Beano's face go out of the door, he's seen the person leave. They can't think about someone else wearing that face. It's not how they think. A clown and his make-up are the same thing. Without his makeup a clown doesn't exist. A clown wouldn't wear another clown's face in the same way a dwarf wouldn't use another dwarfs tools.'
'Sounds risky, though,' said Angua.
'It was. It was very risky.'
'Carrot? What are you going to do now?'
'I think it might be a good idea to find out whose room was on the other side of the hole, don't you? I think it might belong to Beano's little friend.'
'In the Assassins' Guild? Just us?'
'Um. You've got a point.'