'It's me, sir. Littlebottom.'

'Come in, then.' It was nice to know there was at least one person in the world with more problems than him. 'How is his lordship?'

'Stable,' said Littlebottom.

'Dead is stable,' said Vimes.

'I mean he's alive, sir, and sitting up reading. Mr Doughnut made up some sticky stuff that tasted of seaweed, sir, and I mixed up some Gloobool's Salts. Sir, you know the old man in the house on the bridge?'

'What old... oh. Yes.' It seemed a long time ago. 'What about him?'

'Well... you asked me to look around and ... I took some pictures. This is one, sir.' He handed Vimes a rectangle that was nearly all black.

'Odd. Where'd you get it?'

'Er... have you ever heard the story about dead men's eyes, sir?'

'Assume I haven't had a literary education, Littlebottom.'

'Well... they say...'

'Who say?'

'They, sir. You know, they.'

'The same people who're the everyone in everyone knows ? The people who live in the community ?'

'Yes, sir. I suppose so, sir.'

Vimes waved a hand. 'Oh, them. Well, go on.'

'They say that the last thing a dying man sees stays imprinted in his eyes, sir.'

'Oh, that. That's just an old story.'

'Yes. Amazing, really. I mean, if it weren't true, you'd have thought it wouldn't have survived, wouldn't you? I thought I saw this little red spark, so I got the imp to paint a really big picture before it faded completely. And, right in the centre...'

'Couldn't the imp have made it up?' said Vimes, staring at the picture again.

'They haven't got the imagination to lie, sir. What they see is what you get.'

'Glowing eyes.'

'Two red dots,' said Littlebottom, conscientiously, 'which might indeed be a pair of glowing eyes, sir.'

'Good point, Littlebottom.' Vimes rubbed his chin. 'Blast! I just hope it's not a god of some sort. That's all I need at a time like this. Can you make copies so I can send them to all the Watch Houses?'

'Yes, sir. The imp's got a good memory.'

'Hop to it, then.'

But before Littlebottom could go the door opened again. Vimes looked up. Carrot and Angua were there.

'Carrot? I thought you were on your day off?'

'We found a murder, sir! At the Dwarf Bread Museum. But when we got back to the Watch House they told us Lord Vetinari's dead!'

Did they? thought Vimes. That's rumour for you. If we could modulate it with the truth, how useful it could be...

Tags: Terry Pratchett Discworld Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net