In the quiet darkness of the Oblong Office, the Patrician of Ankh-Morpork glanced at three worried faces over his fingertips.
"I assure you, my lord, that we have no idea what happened to the wretched thing" said the president of the Guild of Historians. "You recall, of course, that it was taken from the Museum in the Year of the Surprised Duck and stored in the palace ever since."
"Not quite" said the Patrician. The expressions of his guests, which were already turning hopeful, froze again. "It has, in fact, been moved to the palace, but after the whole dragon business all that remained of the palace treasury has been transported back to the Museum."
The head of the Guild of Historians glanced nervously at the director of Ankh-Morpork Museum, who cleared his throat.
"Well, this resolves it" he said, a little too quickly. "It must have been destroyed by the dragon, since we haven't found it in our records."
"Indeed?" Vetinari selected a document from the neat pile on his desk. "I have here an excerpt from The Artefacts of Ankh, where an immensely interesting essay on the nature of this very object has been written, by, I am pleased to inform you, yourself."
The director threw a frightened glance at the single piece of paper. "It states, among other things," Vetinari continued, calmly scrutinising the document, "that the artefact, which you had in your possession and therefore could examine at leisure, has proven to be indestructible in the face of your and your colleagues' most... creative efforts."
"I, ah... Well, not entirely indestructible... Dragon fire would surely..." the curator stammered. The chief historian came to his aid mercifully.
"Naturally, any research would not include experiments with dragon fire, least of all Draco Nobilis" he said, hoping to remove any doubts by a show of his competence. "Swamp dragons can sometimes be used for this purpose, only if lady Ramkin doesn't find out, of course, ahaha, but..."
The Patrician waved him to silence. "Nevertheless, gentlemen, the Device has not been destroyed, it has been stolen. From the Museum." He turned to the third man, who has remained silent so far. "I know you are aware of this, or I am sure you would not have come here in the company of Mr. Slant."
Ankh-Morpork's most famous, or most notorious, lawyer returned the stare blankly. "My position here is strictly advisory, your lordship" he said. „And I would like to point out that you seem to know much more about the matter than these gentlemen."
"It certainly appears so."
"In that case" continued Slant, whose patience was not going to be disturbed by a mere double-edged remark, "I advise you let these gentlemen return to their duties. Unless you find them responsible, and intend to prefer charges, my lord?"
"I'd prefer the truth, Mr Slant." Vetinari stared at the assembled men once more. "However, I see an absence of a lie shall have to do in this case. Very well, gentlemen, thank you."
He turned to his papers. The men milled about uncertainly, as people did when cut off by Vetinari in his signature manner.
Finally they departed, leaving the Patrician alone in the dark office, with a single pool of light provided by the candlestick on his desk. For a long moment, the only sound in the room was the scribbling of Vetinari's quill pen. Then, without raising his head, he spoke.
"Do sit down, Miss Addler. In a chair, perhaps?"
There was just the faintest of sounds as a figure dropped from the rafters and approached the desk. It was completely shrouded in some nondescript clothing, hooded and cloaked ; little more than a moving shadow. Its voice, coming from the depths of the hood, sounded like a whisper even though the person was not, in fact, whispering.
"I know I made no sound. And you couldn't have smelled anything with Slant here!"
Vetinari finished his writing and neatly shuffled the paper away. He put the pen in its inkwell and raised his eyes at the figure.
"Quite so, Miss Addler. I have, however, entrusted you with the task of guarding Mr Slant, and since he was here, naturally, so were you. You have stayed behind, so I assume there is something you might want to tell me."
Oh gods, she thought, he's raising his eyebrows at me again. He's sitting there calmly, his palms joined at the fingertips, and he knows he's already breached all my defences, so all he has to do now is raise his eyebrows at me. The bastard.
She pulled herself together, or at least tried to give the impression of doing so. "Nothing definite" she said, pushing her hood back. Dark blonde hair caught the candlelight. "He's been meeting some of our suspects, but nothing proves he's had anything to do with it. He is being very cautious, however. Are you sure it was not the dwarfs?"
"I doubt it. The Dark Dwarfs know that our city is not safe for them any longer. Besides, they have already staged one robbery at the Museum, and it was in a different style altogether."
"Yes, well, they know we know that, don't they..."
Vetinari looked at her for a moment longer than was strictly necessary. "Indeed. Anything else, Miss Addler?"
"As I said, not much." She unfastened the cloak and took her gloves off, noticing he ignored this completely. "Money withdrawn from official accounts only, no outrageous amounts of course, some jewels acquired here and there... It can mean something, but it might not."
Damn you, she thought, I'm undressing here and you're turning your back? All right, taking off a cloak and gloves is not very erotic in itself, but she was equipped with some deadly stuff and he knew it... Meaning daggers and throwing knives, of course, she added hurriedly.
And he's turning his back on me again, while we both know nobody's aware I'm here or even that I exist. And that I could put a blade in his wretched cold heart right now if I wanted to.
Damn! He just knows I don't want to, doesn't he...
"I see." Vetinari's voice cut through her anger. „Thank you, Miss Addler, you may retire." And now he's going to turn his attention to the paperwork, she thought. He always does that, switching me on and off like some clockwork toy. It really makes me livid, and he knows that, too. She stood up, a little faster than she meant.
"So you don't want me tonight?" she asked, before she could stop herself. Damn you, you could at least raise that damn eyebrow now, you bastard!
"Your most fastidious scrutiny has given us very little. I'm afraid other arrangements have to be made. So," he looked up and suddenly, his calm stare was piercing her right through, "I believe I do not, in fact, want you tonight, Miss Addler."
She swallowed, feeling like a butterfly must feel under a pin and a magnifying glass. Damn you, Vetinari! She cleared her throat, gathered her things and left as unheeded as she had arrived.
When talking to almost anyone else, he'd dismiss them with "don't let me detain you". He never said that to her, because, firstly, he was in fact already detaining her, and secondly, he damn well knew she would have let him.
Author's note
I still can't believe I did this. Writing Discworld fanfiction at all seems borderline sacrilegious to me, but inserting a new character? Ye gods...
I have this story all planned, but so far I've lacked the courage to write it. Please review and help me make the decision - whichever you find appropriate.