Pratchett, Terry - Discworld 39 - Snuff by Pratchett Terry

Author:Pratchett, Terry [Pratchett, Terry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780062011848
Publisher: HarperCollins US
Published: 2011-09-14T04:00:00+00:00

In the cool depths of his cellar, Mr. Jiminy the publican was preparing for the evening rush when he heard a sound in the darkness among the barrels. He dismissed it as being yet another rat until a hand was clamped over his mouth.

“Excuse me, sir, I have reason to believe that you can help me with my inquiries.” The man struggled, but Vimes knew every trick when it came to apprehending a suspect. He hissed, “You know who I am, sir, and I know what you are. We’re both coppers and we’ve been around the houses. You said that the barman sees everything, hears everything and says nothing, and I’m a fair man, Mr. Jiminy, but I’m investigating a murder. A murder, sir, the capital crime, and maybe something much, much worse. So excuse me if I take the view that those who aren’t behind me are standing in my way, with all that that entails.”

Jiminy was running out of breath now, and squirming feebly. “Oh, too much of the booze and too little walking the beat, I fancy,” said Vimes. “Now, I would not ask a man to break the barman’s solemn oath, so when I take my hand away, we’ll sit down peacefully and play a little game of charades. I’m letting go …now.”

The barman wheezed a curse, and added, “You didn’t need to do that, commander. I’ve got a bad chest, you know!”

“Not as bad as it might otherwise be, Mr. Jiminy. And now a word on the subject of being too clever.”

The publican glared as Vimes went on, “I’m strictly a copper. I don’t kill people unless they’re trying to kill me. You may be aware of my batman, Mr. Willikins. You saw him the other day. Regrettably he’s more direct, and also extremely loyal. A few years ago, to save my family, he killed an armed dwarf with a common ice knife. And he has other talents: among them, I have to say, is that he can iron a shirt as crisply as any man I know. And, as I say, very loyal indeed. C’mon, Jiminy. I’m a copper and you’re a copper. You’re still a copper whatever you say—the stain never leaves you. You know what I can do and I know what you can do and you’re smart enough to choose the right side.”

“All right, you don’t need to rub it in,” Jiminy grumbled. “We both know about the ins and outs.” His voice was suddenly and almost theatrically helpful as he crooned, “How may I help you, officer, just like the good citizen that I am?”

Vimes carefully pulled out of his coat the little pot. It was indeed about the size of a snuffbox. The incongruity was not lost on Vimes: in one pocket he held the glorious gem, quite likely the repository of goblin snot, and in the other he had his own small snuffbox. How hilarious would it be if he’d mixed them up?

Jiminy certainly reacted when he saw it, although he probably thought he hadn’t.

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