Thud!

Helmclever’s desk because his hand was shaking, Vimes said: “I must see Grag Hamcrusher, sir.”
    “I’m sorry, that is not possible.”
    The answer came out flat and level, as if the dwarf had been practicing. But there was a flicker in his eyes, and Vimes glanced up at a very large grille in the wall.
    At this point, Angua gave a little cough. Okay, thought Vimes, someone’s listening.
    “Mr. Helm…clever,” he said, “I have reason to suppose that a serious crime has been committed on Ankh-Morpork soil.” He added: “That is to say, under it. But Ankh-Morpork’s, anyway.”
    Once again, Helmclever’s strange calm gave him away. There was a hunted look in his eyes.
    “I am sorry to hear it. How may I assist you to solve it?”
    Oh well, thought Vimes, I did say I don’t play games.
    “By showing me the dead body you have downstairs,” he said.
    He was obscenely pleased at the way Helmclever deflated. Time to press home…
    He took out his badge.
    “My authority, Mr. Helmclever. I will search this place. I would prefer to do so with your permission.”
    The dwarf was trembling, with fear or anxiety or probably both.
    “You will invade our premises? You cannot! Dwarf law—”
    “This is Ankh-Morpork,” said Vimes. “All the way to the top, all the way to the bottom. Invasion is not the issue. Are you really telling me I cannot search a basement? Now take me to Grag Hamcrusher or whoever is in charge! Now!”
    “I—I refuse your request!”
    “It wasn’t a request!”
    And now we reach our own little Koom Valley, Vimes thought, as he stared into Helmclever’s eyes. No backing down. We both think we’re right. But he’s wrong!
    A movement made him glance down. Helmclever’s trembling finger had teased out the spilled coffee into a circle. As Vimes stared, the dwarf’s fingers drew two lines across the circle. He looked back up, his eyes bulging with anger, fear…and just a hint of something else…
    “Ah. Commander Vimes, is it?” said a figure in the doorway.
    It might have been Lord Vetinari speaking. It was that same level tone indicating that he had noticed you and you were, in some small way, a necessary chore. But it was coming from another dwarf, presumably, although he wore a rigid, pointed black hood, which brought him up to the height of the average human.
    Elsewhere he was completely shrouded—and that was a well-chosen word—in overlapping black-leather scales, with just a narrow slit for the eyes. Were it not for the quiet authority of the voice, the figure in front of Vimes could be mistaken for a very somber Hogswatch decoration.
    “And you are—?” said Vimes.
    “My name is Ardent, Commander. Helmclever, go about your chores!”
    As the “daylight face” scuttled off at speed, Vimes turned in his seat and allowed his hand to brush across the sticky symbol, wiping it out. “And do you want to be helpful, too?” he said.
    “If I can be,” said the dwarf. “Please follow me. It would be preferable if the sergeant did not accompany you.”
    “Why?”
    “The obvious reason,” said Ardent. “She is openly female.”
    “What? So? Sergeant Angua is very definitely not a dwarf,” said Vimes. “You can’t expect everyone to conform to your rules!”
    “Why not?” said the dwarf. “You do. But could we just, together, for a moment, proceed to my office and discuss matters?”
    “I’ll be fine, sir,” said Angua. “It’s probably the best way.”
    Vimes tried to relax. He knew he was letting himself get steamed up. Those silent watchers in the street had got through to him, and the look he’d gotten from Helmclever needed some thinking about. But—
    “No,” he said.
    “You will not make that small concession?” said Ardent.
    “I am already making several big ones, believe me,” said Vimes.
    The hidden eyes under the pointy cowl stared at him for a few seconds.
    “Very well,” said Ardent. “Please follow me.”
    The dwarf turned and opened a door behind him, stepping into a small, square room. He beckoned them to follow and, when they were inside, pulled a lever.
    The room shook gently, and the walls began to rise.
    “This is—” Ardent began.
    “—an elevator,” said Vimes. “Yes, I know. I saw them when I met the Low King in Uberwald.”
    The dropping of the name did not work.
    “The Low King is not…respected here,” said Ardent.
    “I thought he was the ruler of all dwarfs?” said Vimes.
    “A common misconception. Ah, we