Making Money (Discworld 36)

'It might help us understand why there is no gold in the vault, sir. It's a small detail in the great scheme of things, but it is something of a puzzler.'

At which point, somewhere close at hand, Mr Fusspot began to bark...

Cosmo Lavish sat at his desk with his fingers steepled in front of his mouth, watching Cribbins eat. Not many people in a state to make a choice had ever done this for more than thirty seconds.

'The soup is good?' he said.

Cribbins lowered the bowl after one lengthy final gurgle. 'Champion, your lordship.' He removed a grey rag from his pocket and -

He's going to take his teeth out, right now, here at the table, thought Cosmo. Amazing. Ah, yes, and there's still bits of carrot in them...

'Don't hesitate to repair your teeth,' he said, as Cribbins removed a bent fork from a pocket.

'I'm a martyr to them, shir,' said Cribbins. 'I'll shwear they're out to get me.' Springs twanged as he fought them with the fork and then, apparently satisfied, he wrestled them back on to his grey gums and champed them into place.

'That's better,' he announced.

'Good,' said Cosmo. 'And now, in view of the nature of your allegations, which Drumknott here has carefully transcribed and you have signed, let me ask you: why have you not gone to Lord Vetinari?'

'I've knowed men escape the nooshe, sir,' said Cribbins. 'It ain't too hard if you've got the readies. But I never heard of one get a big plum job the very next day. Gov'ment job, too. Then suddenly he's a banker, no lesh. Shomeone's watching over him, and I don't think it'sh a bleeding fairy. If I was to go to Vetinari, then, I'd be a bit shilly, right? But he's got your bank, and you ain't, which is a shame. Sho I'm your man, shir.'

'At a price, I have no doubt.'

'Well, yes, shomething in the way of expenses would help, yesh.'

'And you are sure that Lipwig and Spangler are one and the same?'

'It's the smile, sir. You never forget it. And he has this gift of chatting to people, he makes people want to do things his way. It's like magic, the little ingrate.'

Cosmo stared at him and then said, 'Give the reverend fifty dollars, Drum - Heretofore, and direct him to a good hotel. One where they might have a hot tub available.'

'Fifty dollarsh? growled Cribbins.

'And then please go ahead with that little acquisition, will you?'

'Yes, sir. Of course.'

Cosmo pulled a piece of paper towards him, dipped a pen in the inkwell, and began to write furiously.

'Fifty dollarsh?' said Cribbins again, appalled at the minimum wage of sin.

Cosmo looked up and stared at the man as if seeing him for the first time and not enjoying the novelty.

'Hah, yes. Fifty dollars indeed for now, reverend,' said Cosmo soothingly. 'And in the morning, if your memory is still as good, we will all look forward to a richer and righteous future. Do not let me detain you.'

He returned to his paperwork.

Heretofore grabbed Cribbins's arm and towed him forcibly out of the room. He'd seen what Cosmo was writing.

VetinariVetinariVetinari VetinariVetinariVetinari

VetinariVetinariVetinari VetinariVetinariVetinari...

It was time for the swordstick, he thought. Get it, hand it over, take the money and run.

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