Snuff
Mr. Jefferson at midnight in the copse on Hangmanâs Hill. He wishes to tell me something important. Remind me, Willikins, what is a copse, exactly?â
âAnything between a clump of trees and a small wood. Technically, sir, the one at the top of Hangmanâs Hill is a beech hanger. That just means, well, a small beech wood on top of a hill. You remember Mad Jack Ramkin? The bloke that got it made thirty feet higher at great expense? He had the beech trees planted on the top.â
Vimes liked the crunching of the gravel; it would mask the sound of their conversation. âI talked to the blacksmith with, I would swear, no one else in earshot. But this is the country, yes, Willikins?â
âThere was a man setting rabbit snares in the hedge behind you,â said Willikins. âPerfectly normal activity, although to my mind he took too long over it.â
They crunched onward for a while, and Vimes said, âTell me, Willikins. If a man had arranged to meet another man at midnight in a place with a name like Dead Manâs Copse, on Hangmanâs Hill, what would you consider to be his most sensible course of action, given that his wife had forbidden him to bring weapons to his country house?â
Willikins nodded. âWhy, sir, given your maxim that everything is a weapon if you choose to think of it as such, I would advise said man to see whether he has a compatriot what has, for example, acquired the keys to a cabinet that contains a number of superbly made carving knives, ideal for close fighting; and I personally would include a side order of cheesewire, sir, in conformance with my belief that the only important thing in a fight to the death is that the death should not be yours.â
âCanât carry cheesewire, man! Not the Commander of the Watch!â
âQuite so, commander, and may I therefore advise your brass knucklesâthe gentlemanâs alternative? I know you never travel without them, sir. Thereâs some vicious people around and I know you have to be among them.â
âLook, Willikins, I donât like to involve you in all this. Itâs only a hunch, after all.â
Willikins waved this away. âYou wouldnât keep me out of it for a big clock, sir, because all this is tickling my fancy as well. I shall lay out a selection of cutting edges for you in your dressing room, sir, and I myself will go up to the copse half an hour before youâre due to be there, with my trusty bow and an assortment of favorite playthings. Itâs nearly a full moon, clear skies, thereâll be shadows everywhere, and Iâll be standing in the darkest one of them.â
Vimes looked at him for a moment and said, âCould I please amend that suggestion? Could you not be there in the second darkest shadow one hour before midnight, to see who steps into the darkest shadow?â
âAh yes, thatâs why you command the watch, sir,â said Willikins, and to Vimesâs shock there was a hint of a tear in the manâs voice. âYouâre listening to the street, arenât you, sir, yes?â
Vimes shrugged. âNo streets here, Willikins!â
Willikins shook his head. âOnce a street boy always a street boy, sir. It comes with us, in the pinch. Mothers go, fathers goâif we ever knew who they wereâbut the Street, well, the Street looks after us. In the pinch it keeps us alive.â
Willikins darted ahead of Vimes and rang the doorbell, so that the footman had the door open by the time Vimes came up the steps. âYouâve got just enough time to listen to Young Sam read to you, sir,â Willikins added, making his way up the stairs. âWonderful thing, reading, I wish Iâd learned it when I was a kid. Her ladyship will be in her dressing room and guests will be arriving in about half an hour. Must go, sir. Iâve got to teach that fat toad of a butler his manners, sir.â
Vimes winced. âYouâre not allowed to strangle butlers, Willikins. Iâm sure I read it in a book of etiquette.â
Willikins gave him a look of mock offense. âNo garrotting will be involved, sir,â Willikins went on, opening the door to Vimesâs dressing room, âbut he is a snob of the first water. Never did meet a butler who wasnât. I just have to give him an orientation lesson.â
âWell, he is the butler, and this is his house,â said Vimes.
âNo, sir,
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