Snuff

highly. Remind me to show it to you.”
    All long-term couples have their code. Classically there is one that the wife uses in polite conversation to warn her husband that, because of hasty dressing, or absent-mindedness, he is becoming exposed in the crotch department. *
    In the case of Vimes and Lady Sybil, any mention of Mrs. Wainwright was a code that meant, “If you don’t stop annoying people, Sam Vimes, then there will be a certain amount of marital discord later this evening.”
    But this time Sam Vimes wanted the last word, and said, “In fact, come to think of it, I know quite a few risen Jacks in various places, and let me tell you, they often make better masters than their erstwhile masters ever did. All they needed was a chance.”
    â€œDo remind me to show you the letter, Sam!”
    Vimes gave in, and the arrival of the ice-cream pudding lowered the temperature somewhat, especially since her ladyship made certain that everybody’s glasses remained filled—and in the case of the colonel this meant an extremely regular top-up. Vimes would have liked to talk to him further, but he too was under wifely orders. The man had definitely had something important on his mind that caused the presence of a policeman to make him very nervous indeed. And the nervousness was apparently catching.
    This wasn’t a posh affair, by any means. Sybil had organized this little party before building up to anything more lavish, and some fairly amicable goodbyes were being said long before eleven. Vimes listened intently to the colonel and his wife as they walked, in his case unsteadily, to their carriage. All he heard, however, was a hissed, “You had the stable door open all evening!”
    Followed by a growled, “But the horse was fast asleep, my dear.”

W hen the last carriage had been waved away and the big front door firmly shut, Sybil said, “Well, Sam, I understand, I really do, but they were our guests.”
    â€œI know, and I’m sorry, but it’s as if they don’t think. I just wanted to shake their ideas up a bit.”
    Lady Sybil examined a sherry bottle and topped up her glass. “Surely you don’t think that the blacksmith really had the right to fight you for this house?”
    Sam wished that he could drink, right now. “No, of course not. I mean, there wouldn’t be an end to it. People have been winning and losing on the old roulette wheel of fate for thousands of years. I know that, but you know that I think that if you’re going to stop the wheel then you have to spare some thought for the poor buggers who’re sitting on zero.”
    His wife gently took his hand. “But we endowed the hospital, Sam. You know how expensive that is. Dr. Lawn will train up anyone who shows an aptitude for medicine, even if they, in his words, turn up with the arse hanging out of their trousers. He’s even letting girls train! As doctors ! He even employs Igorinas! We’re changing things, Sam, a bit at a time, by helping people help themselves. And look at the Watch! These days a kid is proud to say that his father or even his mother is a watchman. And people need pride.”
    Vimes grasped her hand. He said, “Thank you for being kind to the boy from Cockbill Street.”
    She laughed this away. “I waited a long time for you to turn up, Samuel Vimes, and I don’t intend to let you go to waste!”
    This seemed to Sam Vimes a good time to say, “You don’t mind if Willikins and I take a little stroll to Dead Man’s Copse before I go to bed?”
    Lady Sybil gave him the smile women give to husbands and small boys. “Well, I can hardly say no, and there is a strange atmosphere. I’m glad Willikins is involved. And it’s very pleasant up there. Perhaps you’ll hear the nightingale.”
    Vimes gave her a little kiss before going up to change and said, “Actually, dear, I’m hoping to hear a canary.”
    Probably no duke or even commander of the City Watch had found in their dressing room anything like that which lay on the bed of Sam Vimes right now. Pride of place was for a billhook, which was a useful agricultural implement. He had seen a couple of them being carried earlier in the day. He reminded himself that “agricultural implement” did not mean “not a weapon.” They turned up sometimes among the street gangs and were almost as much to be feared as a