Thud! (Discworld 34)

"I wonder how they got it out?" said Nobby, when they were alone.

"Who says they did?" said Fred Colon. "Big place like this, full of attics and cellars and odd corners, well, why not stash it away and wait a while? You get in as a customer one day, see, hide under a sheet, take out the muriel in the night, hide it somewhere, then go out with the customers next day. Simple, eh?" He beamed at Nobby. "You"ve got to outsmart the criminal mind, see?"

"Or they could"ve just smashed down a door and pushed off with the muriel in the middle of the night," said Nobby. "Why mess about with a cunning plan when a simple one will do?"

Fred sighed. "I can see this is going to be a complicated case, Nobby."

"You should ask Vimesy if we can have it, then," said Nobby. "I mean, we already know the facts, right?"

Hovering in the air, unsaid, was: Where would you like to be in the next few days? Out there where the axes and clubs are likely to be flying, or in here searching all the attics and cellars very, very carefully? Think about it. And it wouldn"t be cowardice, right? "cos a famous muriel like this is bound to be part of our national heritage, right? Even if it is just a painting of a load of dwarfs and trolls having a scrap.

"I think I will do a proper report and suggest to Mister Vimes that maybe we should handle this one," said Fred Colon slowly. "It needs the attention of mature officers. D"you know much about art, Nobby?"

"If necessary, sarge."

"Oh, come on, Nobby!"

"What? Tawneee says what she does is Art, sarge. And she wears more clothes than a lot of the women on the walls around here, so why be sniffy about it?"

"Yeah, but. .." Fred Colon hesitated here. He knew in his heart that spinning upside down around a pole wearing a costume you could floss with definitely was not Art, and being painted lying on a bed wearing nothing but a smile and a small bunch of grapes was good solid Art, but putting your finger on why this was the case was a bit tricky. Pessimal looked as though there was one major assumption in that sentence that he did not understand, so Vimes took a small amount of pity on him. "Well, Sergeant Littlebottom here will look after you," he said with fake joviality. "Find Mr A. E. Pessimal an office somewhere, sergeant, and let him see any paperwork he requires: As much as possible, Vimes thought. Bury him in the stuff, if it keeps him away from me.

"Thank you, your grace," said A. E. Pessimal. "I shall need to interview some officers, too."

"Why?" said Vimes.

"To ensure that my report is comprehensive, your grace," said Mr A. E. Pessimal calmly.

"I can tell you anything you need to know," said Vimes.

"Yes, your grace, but that is not how an inquiry works. I must act

completely independently. Quis custodiet ipsos custodes? your grace." "I know that one," said Vimes. "Who watches the watchmen? Me, Mr Pessimal."

"Ah, but who watches you, your grace?" said the inspector, with a brief smile.

"I do that, too. All the time," said Vimes. "Believe me."

"Quite so, your grace. Nevertheless, I must represent the public

interest here. I shall try not to be obtrusive."

"Very good of you, Mr Pessimal," said Vimes, giving up. He hadn"t

realized he"d been upsetting Vetinari so much lately. This felt like one of his games. "All right. Enjoy your hopefully brief stay with us. Do excuse me, this is a busy morning, what with the damn Koom Valley thing and everything. Come in, Fred!"

That was a trick he"d learned from Vetinari. It was hard for a visitor to hang on when their replacement was in the room. Besides, Fred sweated a lot in this hot weather; he was a champion sweater. And in all these years he"d never worked out that when you stood outside the office door, the long floorboard seesawed slightly on the joist and rose just where Vimes could notice it.

The piece of floorboard settled again, and the door opened.

"Don"t know how you do it, Mister Vimes!" said Sergeant Colon cheerfully. "I was just about to knock!"

After you"d had a decent earful, thought Vimes. He was pleased to see A. E. Pessimal"s nose wrinkle, though.

"What"s up, Fred?" he said. "Oh, don"t worry, Mr Pessimal was just leaving. Carry on, Sergeant Littlebottom. Good morning, Mr Pessimal."

Fred Colon removed his helmet as soon as the inspector had been ushered away by Cheery, and wiped his forehead.

"It"s heating up out there again," he said. "We"re in for thunderstorms, I reckon."