'I cannot explain that. They must have been mistaken.'
The words were clipped sharp. Any moment now, William told himself... 'Why do you think--' he began, and was proved right.
'I think I don't have to talk to you,' said Drumknott. 'Do I?'
'No, but--'
'Sergeant!' Drumknott shouted.
There were swift footsteps and the cell door opened.
'Yes?' said Sergeant Angua.
'I have finished talking to this gentleman,' said Drumknott. 'And I am tired.'
William sighed and put his notebook away. 'Thank you,' he said. 'You've been very... helpful.'
As he walked along the corridor he said, 'He doesn't want to believe his lordship might have attacked him.'
'Really,' said the sergeant.
'Looks like quite a bang he had on his head,' William went on.
'Does it?'
'Look, even I can see this smells funny.'
'Can you?'
'I see,' said William. 'You went to the Mister Vimes School of Communication, yes?'
'Did I?' said Sergeant Angua.
'Loyalty is a wonderful thing.'
'Is it? The way out is this way--'
After she had carefully ushered William into the street Sergeant Angua went back upstairs into Vimes's office and quietly shut the door behind her.
'So he only spotted the gargoyles?' said Vimes, who was watching William walk down the street.
'Apparently. But I wouldn't underestimate him, sir. He notices things. He was dead right about the peppermint bomb. And how
many officers would have noticed how deeply that arrow went into the floor?'
'That's unfortunately true.'
'And he spotted Igor's second thumb, and hardly anyone else has noticed the swimming potatoes.'
'Igor hasn't got rid of them yet?'
'Noi sir. He believes that instant fish and chips are only a generation away.'
Vimes sighed. 'All right, sergeant. Forget the potatoes. What are the odds?'
'Sir?'
'I know what goes on in the duty room. They wouldn't be watchmen if someone wasn't running a book.'