Snuff

looked at Willikins hopefully.
    Willikins cleared his throat and said, “Mr. Trout, one of the gamekeepers, was around half an hour ago, and of course your lad will strike up a conversation with anybody, and the upshot is that young Sam, it would appear, sir, would like to amass a collection of the droppings of a number of woodland creatures.”
    Gamekeepers, thought Vimes. He ran that across his brain and thought about who had actually rounded the goblins up three years ago. And then he thought, how important is that compared with the question who told them to? I think I’ve got the smell of this place: people do what they’re told because they’ve always done what they’re told. But gamekeepers are a canny lot; it’s not just human beings they have to outsmart. And remember, this is the countryside, where everybody knows everybody else, and notices everybody else. I don’t think Feeney is lying, so other people know what happened here one night three years ago. I mustn’t be a bull at a gate, said Sybil, and she’s right. I need to know where I’m treading. What happened happened three years ago? I can afford to take my time over this one. Aloud he said, “How far can I take this?”
    â€œIt seems you’ve had a busy day, sir,” said Willikins. “This morning you went down to the lockup with a little tit who thinks he is a copper, and then, in company with a goblin, you and said little tit went up to Dead Man’s Copse, where you remained for quite some time, until you and the aforesaid little tit came out and you arrived here, minus one tit just now.” Willikins grinned at Vimes. “There’s people coming and going down in the kitchens all the time, sir, and gossip is a kind of currency when you get beyond the green door. You’ve got to remember, sir, that, despite Mr. Silver’s dirty looks, I am the top nob below stairs and I can go where I like and do what I like and they can choke on it if they like. The whole of the hill is visible from some window or other in this house, and maids are very cooperative, sir. It seems that all the girls are busting for a job in the Scoone Avenue establishment. Very keen they are for the city lights, sir. Very cooperative. Also, I found quite a good telescope in the study. Remarkable view of Hangman’s Hill, you know. I could practically read your lips. Young Sam quite enjoyed the game of searching for Dad.”
    Vimes felt a pang of guilt at those words. This was supposed to be a family holiday, wasn’t it? But…“Someone killed a goblin girl up at Dead Man’s Copse,” he said, his voice dull. “They made sure there was a lot of blood to give our keen young copper something that he could think of as a case. He’s floundering; I don’t think he’s ever seen a corpse before.”
    Willikins looked genuinely taken aback. “What, never? Maybe I’ll retire down here, except I’d die of boredom.”
    A thought struck Vimes and he said, “When you were looking through the telescope, did you see anyone else go up the hill?”
    Willikins shook his head. “No, sir, just you.”
    They both turned to watch Young Sam, who was carefully drawing chicken poo in his notebook, and Willikins said quietly, “You’ve got a good lad there, very bright. Make the most of the time, sir.”
    Vimes shook his head. “Gods know you’re right, but, well, she was cut about, and with steel, definitely steel. They only have stone weapons. They cut her about to make certain there was enough blood that even a stupid flatfoot would spot it. And she was named after the colors of a flower.”
    There was a disapproving noise from Willikins. “Coppers shouldn’t get sentimental, it’s bad for the judgement. You said it yourself. You find yourself in some bloody awful domestic scene and you think things could be improved by kicking the shit out of somebody, only how do you know when to stop? That’s what you said. You said whacking a bloke in a fight is one thing, but when he’s been cuffed, it ain’t right.”
    To Vimes’s surprise Willikins tapped him on the shoulder in a kindly way (you’d know it instantly if Willikins tapped you in an unfriendly way).
    â€œTake my advice, commander, and have tomorrow off, too. There’s a boating house on the lake, and later you could take the little lad out in the