Captain Murderer stared down at his sea boots as if he was expecting them to explode or perhaps break into song. He managed to mutter, “You’re right there, commander!”
“Thank you, captain! You’re a man of the world. Right now you need a friend, and I need names. I need the names of the people who got you into this mess. Now, Mr. Jefferson the blacksmith has told me that in all conscience he cannot say that he was particularly badly treated once he was in your illegal hospitality. Apparently he was reasonably well fed, given beer and a daily tot of rum and even provided with a number of back issues of the magazine Girls, Giggles and Garters to while away his time. He also wants names, Captain Murderer, and it may just be that if we had those names, all put down legally in an affidavit, he might just be persuaded to forget his imprisonment in exchange for a certain sum of money, to be negotiated, and a chance to go hand to hand, fair and square, no holds barred, with your first mate, who he describes as a ‘bag of shite,’ a nautical term which I don’t pretend to understand. Apparently said man took pleasure in thumping him when he objected to his imprisonment, and Mr. Jefferson would like, as it were, to settle the score.”
Vimes stood up and stretched his arms as if taking the cramp out of them. “Of course, captain, this is all very irregular, especially since we have here our lieutenant, a decent, clean and upstanding young officer, but I suspect that if he brought the Queen into dock and you in front of the authorities on a smuggling charge he might consider honor to be satisfied. It would be a bit of a knock for you, but not one half as bad as being an accessory to kidnapping. Don’t you agree?” Vimes went on, cheerfully, “The lieutenant here will have got a feather in his chapeau and may put in a bon mot on your behalf, I suspect, what with you being an otherwise upstanding and, above all, helpful citizen.”
Vimes winked at Lieutenant Perdix. “I’m teaching this young man bad habits, captain, and so I suggest that you treat him as a friend, especially if at any time in the future he asks you any innocent questions to do with shipping movements and merchandise and other such concerns. It’s up to you, Captain Murderer. I think you know names, the names at least of the men you deal with, and also the name of their employer? You want to tell me anything?”
The boots shuffled. “Look, commander, I don’t want to become enemies with powerful men, if you know what I mean?”
Vimes nodded, and leaned forward so that he could look the man in the eyes. “Of course, I quite understand that captain,” he said quietly, “and that is why you should give me the names. The names, captain. The names. Because, Captain Murderer, I understand you do not wish to upset influential men, and right now I have half a mind to have your ship impounded and destroyed because you were trafficking in living, breathing, intelligent, creative if somewhat grubby sapient creatures. Strictly speaking, I would get into trouble for authorizing this, but who knows? The world can change quite quickly, and it’s changing quickly for you.” He slapped the captain on the back. “Captain Murderer, here and now I’d like you to think of me as a friend.”
And Vimes listened and the red balls bounced across the baize, cannoning off the colored balls, and the law was being broken wholesale for the purpose of upholding the law. How could you explain that to a layman? How could you explain it to a lawyer? How could he explain it to himself? But it was all happening fast and you got on top of it or perished. So you did your best and faced such music as anyone cared to play.
The Queen of Quirm docked that day, two and a half months earlier than expected, to the dismay, distress or possibly even delight of the wives of the crew. The harbormaster made a note of this, and also was intrigued by the fact that most of the crew after disembarkation immediately wandered along past the other ships in port to a quiet area of beach close to the repair yard where the somewhat battered Wonderful Fanny was already being pulled up the slipway.
Walking alongside his boat, like a mother hen with one enormous chick, was Captain Sillitoe, nursing a plaster cast on his arm; he brightened up when he saw Vimes. “Well, sir, I have to hand it to you, by my halibut, so I must! You played a man’s job in getting us safely home, sir! I won’t forget it, and nor will my wife and daughter!”
Vimes looked up at the boat and hoped for the best. “She looks extremely battered to me, captain—I mean the boat, not your wife, of course.”
But it appeared that the captain was determined on optimism. “We lost much of the gearing for the paddle wheels, but truth to tell she was long overdue for refit in any case. But, my dear commander, we rode a damn slam, with all souls safe! And, moreover—What the seven hells are they doing?”
Vimes had already heard the shrill notes of a flute, but he had to look down to see, marching resolutely across the beach, a large number of goblins. At their head, and for a moment appearing bright blue, was Stinky, playing an old and empty crab leg. As he passed Vimes he stopped playing long enough to say, “No seaside rock for goblins! Hooray! Home again, home again, as fast as they can! And them above as watches, they applaud! And them what tries to stop, oh yes, Constable Stinky and his little chums, he find Stinky will be worst nightmare.”
Vimes laughed. “What? What do you mean? A goblin with a badge?” He had to walk fast as he said that, because Stinky was understandably dead set on getting the goblins out of there as soon as possible.
“Stinky don’t need no badges, fellow po-leess-maan! Stinky worst nightmare all by himself! Remember a little boy? Little boy open book? And he see evil goblin, and I see nasty little boy! Good for us, little boy, that we were both right!”
Vimes watched them march away, speeding up until they reached the undergrowth at the edge of the dockyard, where they disappeared, and for a moment it occurred to Vimes that even if he rushed forward and fished around for any trace of goblin he would not find one. He was bewildered. This didn’t matter very much; bewilderment was often a copper’s lot. His job was to make sense of the world, and there were times when he wished that the world would meet him halfway.
“Are you feeling all right, commander?”
Vimes turned and looked at the serious face of Lieutenant Perdix. “Well, I’m not certain when I last slept properly, but at least I can stay standing up! And I have all the names and descriptions.” Three names, and one, oh, what a name that was, that is if you trusted the word of someone happy to be called Captain Murderer. Well, the man was in his fifties, not a good age to have to run and hide. No, Murderer was not going to be a problem. Nor was Jefferson, idiot firebrand though he was. What Jefferson had suspected, Captain Murderer knew. But Vimes, on the other hand, hadn’t demanded the chance to take a crack at the Queen’s first mate, admittedly an unpleasant-looking cove with a chin like a butcher’s boot. He was swaggering toward them now, with the apprehensive Captain Murderer fussing along behind him.
Vimes strolled up to the blacksmith, who seemed no worse for his impromptu voyage. “Come on, sir, Murderer will pay you whatever it takes to keep the lieutenant happy, and keep his own boat. Chalk it up to experience, eh?”
“There’s still that bloody first mate,” said the blacksmith. “The rest of the crew were civil enough but he’s a bullying bastard!”
“Well,” said Vimes, “here he is and so are you, it’s man-to-man, and I’ll stay here to see fair play. It’s an interesting day here. We’re trying a different kind of law, one that’s quick and doesn’t have to trouble any lawyers. So go on, he knows what you want, and so do you, Mr. Jefferson.”
Other crewmen were congregating at this end of the beach. Vimes looked from face to face, all showing the working man’s intuition that a good bit of healthy violence might cheerfully be expected, and read the unspoken language. The first mate did look like a man who made a lot of use of his fists and his temper, and so, Vimes thought, there would probably be many among the crew who would like to see him given a little lesson—or even a great big one. He beckoned both the men toward him.
“Gentlemen, this is a grudge match; you both know the score
. If I see a knife may the gods help him who holds it. There is to be no murder here, saving you of course, captain, and in front of you all I give my word that I’ll stop the fight when I deem that one man has definitely had enough. Gentlemen, over to you.” And with this he stood back smartly.
Neither man moved, but Jefferson said, “Do you know the Marquis of Fantailer Rules devised for the proper conduct for a bout of fisticuffs?”
The first mate’s smile was evil. He said, “Yus, I do!”
Vimes didn’t see, not actually see with his own eyes, what happened next, surely no one could, but it was agreed later that Jefferson had spun around in a blur and laid the sailor flat. The sound of his heavy body thumping down on the sand was all that broke the silence.
After one second, Jefferson, massaging some blood back into his fist, looked down at the fallen giant and said, “I don’t.” He turned and looked at Vimes. “You know? He deliberately pissed on the goblins in the hold. Bastard.”
Vimes tensed in case the fallen man had chums without a sense of humor, but in fact there was laughter. After all, a big man had gone down heavy right enough, bang to rights, and that was a definite result in anybody’s money. “Well done, Mr. Jefferson, a fair fight if ever I saw one. Perhaps these gentlemen will take the first mate back to his ship for a lie-down.”
Vimes delivered this as an instruction, which was instantly obeyed as one, but he added, “If that’s all right by you, Captain Murderer? Good. And now I think that you and I’ll go, in an entirely friendly way, along with the lieutenant here, to the Quirm Watch headquarters, where there will be a little matter of affidavits to sign.”
“I expect you will want to be leaving with some haste, commander,” said the lieutenant as they strolled along the Rue de Wakening.
“Well, yes,” said Vimes. “I’m supposed to be on holiday. I’ll pick up young Feeney from the infirmary and find some way of getting back to the Hall.”
The lieutenant looked surprised. “And you don’t want to get back on the heels of the murderer as soon as possible, sir?”
“Him? I’ll see him soon enough, I have no doubt about that, but, you see, even he is not exactly the end of things. Do you play snooker down here?”
“Well, I haven’t learned to play, but I understand the game, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Then you’ll know that the ultimate aim of the game is to sink the black, although you’ll hit all the other colors during the course of a frame, and you’ll bash the red ones again and again, sometimes making use of them to further your strategy. Well, I know where to find the black, and black can’t run. The others? The captain has helpfully given us names and descriptions. If you wish to arrest them yourselves, for aiding and abetting the practice of trafficking sapient creatures for profit, then I leave that honor to the Quirm constabulary.”
Vimes grinned. “As for me, after I have the affidavits I intend to go straight back to see my wife and little boy, who I have shamefully, no, desperately neglected over the past few days, and do you know what? Just as soon as I’ve got there, I’m going to bring them back down here! My wife will enjoy the fresh air, and Young Sam will just love the elephants, oh, won’t he just!”
The lieutenant brightened up. “May I suggest, then, that after dinner you take the overnight boat? It will be the Black-Eyed Susan, quite speedy, like her namesake, according to popular legend. She’s due to go upriver in, let me see, three quarters of an hour. She’s very fast, doesn’t take much in the way of cargo so they gear her up high. You’ll be home in the morning, how about that? Just time to get yourself smartened up, and if you like the idea then I will get one of the men to go and find the Susan’s captain and make certain she doesn’t leave without you.”
Vimes smiled. “What’s the weather forecast?”
“Clear skies, commander, and Old Treachery is as flat as a mill pond, scoured of every snag and boulder for the rest of the season. It’s plain sailing from now on.”
“Good evening, your grace!” The voice was somewhat familiar and Vimes saw, sauntering down the boulevard, what at first seemed liked a man wearing a huge cummerbund until further swift forensic inspection showed that it was the hermit from the Hall. His beard was remarkably clean and wrapped around his body, as were two young ladies of the giggling persuasion.
Vimes peered at him. “Stump? What are you doing down here?”
This caused further giggling.
“I’m on holiday, commander! Yes, indeed! Every man should have a holiday, sir!”
Vimes didn’t know what to say and so patted the man on the shoulder and said, “Knock yourself out, Mr. Stump, and don’t forget the nourishing herbs.”
“I think I’m going to need them, commander…”
Say what you like, the food in the Quirm Watch House canteen was pretty damn good, even if they did use a shade too much avec, thought Vimes; avec on everything.
Vimes, well fed and cleaned up and with some very important paperwork stuffed down the inside of his freshly laundered and immaculately ironed shirt, walked with Chief Constable Upshot down the quayside toward the Black-Eyed Susan. The lieutenant and two of the guards accompanied him to his cabin, where the dwarf butler demonstrated to him the cleanliness of the bed and the crispness of the sheets.
“Honored to have you sleeping in them, commander. You will find that the Susan gives a very smooth ride, although she can sometimes bounce around a little, very much like her namesake, but least said, soonest mended. And, of course, there is a berth next door for officer Feeney. You gentlemen might like to see the Susan get under way, perhaps?”
They did. The Susan had two oxen, just like the Wonderful Fanny, but with no heavy cargo and only about ten passengers she was the express of Old Treachery. Her paddle wheels, highly geared indeed, left a line of white water all down the valley behind her.
“What happens now, commander?” said Feeney, leaning on the rail as they watched Quirm disappearing in the wake behind them. “I mean, what are we going to do next?”
Vimes was smoking a cigar with great pleasure. Somehow this seemed the time and the place. Snuff was all very well, but a good cigar had time and wisdom and personality. He would be unhappy to see this one go.
“I don’t need to do anything now,” he said, turning to look at the sunset. And I don’t often see sunsets these days either, he thought. Mostly I see midnights; and I don’t need to chase Stratford, either. I know him like I know myself. He mentally paused, momentarily shocked at the implication.
Aloud he continued, “You saw those two Quirmian officers get on the boat, didn’t you? I arranged that. They will, of course, make certain that we have an undisturbed voyage. The crew have also been told that there may be some attempt by a murderer to board the boat. According to the lieutenant, Captain Harbinger can vouch for all of his crew as having sailed with him loyally for many years. Personally, of course, I’ll make certain the door to my berth is locked, and I’d suggest you do the same thing, Feeney.
“Greed is at the center of this, greed and hellish poisons. They’re both killers and greed is the worst, by a long way. You know, usually when I’m talking to young officers such as yourself I say that in a certain type of case, you should always follow the money, you should ask ‘Who stands to lose? Who stands to gain?’ ” Vimes regretfully tossed the butt of his cigar into the water. “But sometimes you should follow the arrogance…You should look for those who can’t believe that the law would ever catch them, who believe that they act out of a right that the rest of us do not have. The job of the officer of the law is to let them know that they are wrong!”
The sun was setting. “I do believe, Commander Vimes, that you have something in you that would turn the wheels of this boat all by itself if a man could but harness it!” said Feeney admiringly. “And I remember reading somewhere that you would arrest the gods for doing it wrong.”
Vimes shook his head. “I’m sure I never said anything of the sort! But law is order and o
rder is law and it must be the highest thing. The world runs on it, the heavens run on it and without order, lad, one second cannot follow another.”
He could feel himself swaying. Lack of sleep can poison the mind, drive it in strange directions. Vimes felt Feeney’s hand on his shoulder. “I’ll help you along to your cabin, commander. It’s been a very long day.”
Vimes didn’t remember getting undressed and into bed, or rather into bunk, but he clearly had done so and, according to the little bits of white foam on the cabin’s tiny washbasin, he had cleaned his teeth as well. He had slept the sleep of the dead except for the bit where bits fall off and you crumble into dust, and all he could recall was cool blackness and, rising now to the surface, a certainty, as if a message had been left in the blackness to await the return of thought. He is after you, Blackboard Monitor Vimes. You know this because you recognize what was in his eyes. You know that type. They want to die from the day they are born, but something twists and so they kill instead. He will find you, and so will I. I hope the three of us meet in darkness.
As the message drained away Vimes stared at the opposite wall, in which the door now opened, after a cursory knock, to reveal the steward bearing that which is guaranteed to frighten away all nightmares, to wit, a cup of hot tea.*
“No need to get up, commander,” came the cheerful greeting of the steward, as he carefully placed the cup of tea in a little indentation that some foresighted person had designed into the tiny cabin so that said teacup would not slide around. “The captain would like to inform you that we’ll be docking in about twenty minutes, although of course you’ll be welcome to stay aboard and finish your breakfast while we clean the scuppers and take on fresh oxen and, of course, pick up mail and fodder and a few more passengers. In the galley, I have today…” and here the steward enthusiastically rattled off a menu of belly-stuffing proportions, concluding triumphantly with, “a bacon sandwich!”