Snuff

it open.
    Sybil was taking tea with a group of ladies, which appeared to be obligatory procedure in the afternoons, but Vimes leaned against the wall and panted out, “You must come and listen to this music! Bring Young Sam! Bring these ladies if they want to come, but whatever you do, come on! I’ve never heard anything so good!”
    Sybil looked around. “Well, we were just breaking up, Sam. You know, you look very flushed. Is anything the matter?” She looked imploringly at her friends, who were already rising in their seats, and said, “I do hope you’ll forgive me, ladies. It’s so very difficult being the wife of an important man.” There was a slight barb to the last syllable. “I’m sure, Sam, that whatever it is can wait until I’ve said goodbye to my guests, yes?”
    And so Sam Vimes shook hands, smiled, shook hands, smiled and fretted until the last twitterer had tweeted and the last lady had left.
    Having seen the final carriage away, Lady Sybil came back in, flopped into a chair in front of Sam and listened to Vimes’s garbled account.
    â€œAnd this is that young goblin girl Miss Beedle has been teaching to talk?”
    Vimes was almost frantic. “Yes! And she plays wonderful music! Wonderful!”
    â€œSam Vimes, when I take you to a concert you fall asleep in ten minutes. Do you know what? You’ve convinced me. Let’s go, shall we?”
    â€œWhere?” said Vimes, in husbandly confusion.
    Sybil affected surprise. “Why, to hear the young lady play the harp, of course. I thought that was what you wanted. I’ll go and get my jacket while you find Young Sam, please? He’s in the laboratory.”
    For Vimes, bewilderment was now accumulating. “The…”
    â€œThe laboratory, Sam! You know my family were famous meddlers, don’t you? Willikins is in there with him, and I believe they’re dissecting some, shall I say, excrement? Make certain they’ve both washed their hands—thoroughly,” she added, on the way out of the room. “And tell them I was emphatic, and tell Young Sam what emphatic means!”

T he coach stood empty in the lane. They hadn’t dared knock on the door, not while that heavenly music was drifting out of the cottage window. Sybil was in tears, but often she looked up, and said things like, “That shouldn’t be possible on a harp!” Even Young Sam was transfixed, standing there with his little mouth open, while the music rushed in and, for a moment upon the world, lifted all hearts and forgave all sins—not having its work cut out in the case of Young Sam, a part of Vimes managed to reflect, but doing a sterling and heavyweight job on his father. And when the music stopped Young Sam said, “More!” and that went for his parents, too. They stood there, not looking at one another, and then the cottage door opened and Miss Beedle stepped out.
    â€œI saw you out there, of course. Do come in, but quietly. I’ve made lemonade.” She led them through the hall and turned into the living room.
    Tears of the Mushroom must have been forewarned by Miss Beedle. She sat on a chair next to the harp with her oversized hands clasped demurely over her apron. Wordlessly, Young Sam walked over to her and cuddled her leg. The goblin girl looked panicky and Vimes said, “Don’t worry, he just wants to show that he loves you.” And he thought, I’ve just told a goblin not to be frightened of my son because he loves her and the world has turned upside-down and all sins are forgiven, except possibly mine.

A s the coach rattled gently back toward Ramkin Hall Lady Sybil said quietly to Vimes, “I understand that the young lady goblin who was…murdered could play the harp as well as Miss Mushroom.”
    Vimes stirred from his inner thoughts and said, “I didn’t know that.”
    â€œOh yes,” said Sybil, in a curiously chatty voice. “Apparently Miss Beedle wants young goblin girls to have something to be proud of.” She cleared her throat, and, after a pause, said, “Do you have any suspects, Sam?”
    â€œOh yes, two. I have the testimony of a reliable witness that they were in the area after the event, and I’m beginning to consider a chain of events that might lead me also to the whereabouts of Mr. Jefferson the smith. This is the countryside, after all. Everyone sees where you go and you