The Truth (Discworld 25)

You could add '-dressed' to Vimes's list. It wasn't that he wore bad clothes. He just seemed to generate an internal scruffiness field. The man could rumple a helmet.

Fiddyment met them halfway. There was a muttered conversation, out of which the unmistakable words 'He's what?' arose, in Vimes's voice. He glared darkly at William. The expression was clear. It said: it's been a bad day and now there's you.

Vimes walked the rest of the way down the stairs and looked William up and down.

'What is it you're wanting?' he demanded.

'I want to know what's happened here, please,' said William.

'Why?'

'Because people will want to know.'

'Hah! They'll find out soon enough!'

'But who from, sir?'

Vimes walked round William as if he was examining some strange new thing.

'You're Lord de Worde's boy, aren't you?'

'Yes, your grace.'

'Commander will do,' said Vimes sharply. 'And you write that little gossipy thing, right?'

* William's class understood that justice was like coal or potatoes. You ordered it when you needed it.

'Broadly, sir.'

'What was it you did to Sergeant Detritus?'

'I only wrote down what he said, sir.'

'Aha, pulled a pen on him, eh?'

'Sir?'

'Writing things down at people? Teh, tch... that sort of thing only causes trouble.'

Vimes stopped walking round William, but having him glare from a few inches away was no improvement.

'This has not been a nice day,' he said. 'And it's going to get a lot worse. Why should I waste my time talking to you?'

'I can tell you one good reason,' said William.

'Well, go on, then.'

'You should talk to me so that I can write it down, sir. All neat and correct. The actual words you say, right down there on the paper. And you know who I am, and if I get them wrong you know where to find me.'

'So? You're telling me that if I do what you want you'll do what you want?'

'I'm saying, sir, that a lie can run round the world before the truth has got its boots on.'

'Ha! Did you just make that up?'

'No, sir. But you know it's true.'

Vimes sucked on his cigar. 'And you'll let me see what you've written?'