The Truth

peered out of its slot.
    “’m?” it said.
    “What? A personal Dis-organizer?” said William. “A killer with a personal Dis-organizer?”
    “The Things to Do Today section is going to be interesting, then,” said Boddony.
    The imp blinked at him.
    “Do you want me to reply or not?” it said. “Insert Name Here requested silence, despite my range of sounds to suit any mood or occasion.”
    “Um…your previous owner is…previous,” said William, looking down at the cooling Mr. Pin.
    “You’re a new owner?” said the imp.
    “Well…possibly.”
    “Congratulations!” said the imp. “Warranty not applicable if said device is sold, hired, transferred, gifted, or stolen unless in original packaging and extraneous materials which by then you will have thrown away and Part Two of the warranty card which you have lost has been filled in and sent to Thttv ggj, thhtfjhsssjk the Scors and quoting the reference number which you did not in fact make a note of.”
    “Do you want me to wipe the contents of my memory?” It produced a cotton wool bud and prepared to insert it into one very large ear. “Erase Memory Y/N?”
    “Your…memory…?”
    “Yes. Erase Memory Y/N?”
    “N!” said William. “And now tell me what exactly is it you are remembering,” he added.
    “You have to press the Recall button,” said the imp impatiently.
    “And that will do what?”
    “A small hammer hits me on the head and I look to see what button you pressed.”
    “Why don’t you just, well, recall?”
    “Look, I don’t make the rules. You’ve got to press the button. It’s in the manual—”
    William carefully pushed the box to one side.
    There were several velvet bags in the dead man’s pocket. He put these on the desk, too.
    Some of the dwarfs had gone a little way down the iron ladder into the cellar. Boddony climbed back out again, looking thoughtful.
    “There’s a man down there,” he said. “Lying in…lead.”
    “Dead?” said William, looking carefully at the bags.
    “I hope so. I really hope so. You could say he made a bit of an impression. He’s a bit on the…cooked side. And there’s an arrow through his head. ”
    “William, you realize that you are robbing a corpse?” said Sacharissa.
    “Good,” said William distantly. “Best time.” He upended a bag, and jewels spilled across the charred wood.
    There was a strangled noise from Goodmountain. Next to gold, jewels were a dwarf’s best friend.
    William emptied the other bags.
    “How much do you think this lot is worth?” he said, when the gems stopped rolling and twinkling.
    Goodmountain had already whipped an eyeglass from an inside pocket and was inspecting a few of the larger stones. “What? Hey? Oh? Tens of thousands. Could be a hundred thousand. Could be a lot more. This one here is worth fifteen hundred, I reckon, and it’s not the best of ’em.”
    “He must’ve stolen them!” said Sacharissa.
    “No,” said William calmly. “We’d have heard about a theft this big. We hear about things. A young man would certainly have told you. Check to see if he has a wallet, will you?”
    “The very idea! And what—”
    “Check for a damn wallet, will you?” said William. “This is a story . I’m going to check his legs, and I’m not looking forward to that, either. But this is a story . We can have hysterics later . Do it. Please?”
    There was a half-healed bite on the dead man’s leg. William rolled up his own trouser leg for comparison while Sacharissa, her eyes averted, pulled a brown leather wallet out of the jacket.
    “Any clue to who he is?” said William, carefully measuring toothmarks with his pencil. His mind felt strangely calm. He wondered if he was actually thinking at all. It all seemed like some dream, happening in another world.
    “Er…there’s something done on the leather in pokerwork,” said Sacharissa.
    “What does it say?”
    “‘Not A Very Nice Person At All,’” she read. “I wonder what kind of person would put that on a wallet?”
    “Someone who wasn’t a very nice person,” said William. “Anything else in there?”
    “There’s a piece of paper with an address,” said Sacharissa. “Er…I didn’t have time to tell you this, er, William. Um…”
    “What does it say? ”
    “It’s Fifty Nonesuch Street. Er. Which is where those men caught me. They had a key and everything. Er…that’s your family’s house, isn’t it?”
    “What do you want me to do with these jewels?”