'A Convoluted Riddle...'
The sudden, intense silence came pounding into the ears of Sam Vimes, recently appointed Commander of the Ankh-Morpork City Watch. He frowned as he cocked his ear towards his half-open door, vaguely wondering where the usual hubbub of the open office downstairs had gone.
"Fred!" he called down. "Is there something I should know about?"
There was a pause as Sgt Colon ponderously climbed the stairs to Vimes's office. "Yes sir, I was just about to inform you sir, of this strange and mysterious note what has just arrived by carrier pigeon, sir. We've been puzzling over it sir, and we can't make head or tail of it, let alone a boat, hat, chrysanthemum, or other amusing shape, sir."
Vimes extended a hand and received a folded piece of paper which had probably been perfectly clean before having been passed from hand to grubby mitt among the relief downstairs. Curious, he opened it, and noticed that the edge felt as if it had been stuck down previously. A smaller piece fell out of the fold. It read: 'Dear Sir, I believe that this may be of assistance in connection with certain felonious events that occurred two nights ago. Sincerely, a concerned citizen.'
The larger note, however, was much more baffling.
* * *
Cpl C. W. St-J. Nobbs stirred the depths of his coffee mug with a grimy, dirt-encrusted finger. The rest of the relief watched in fascinated horror, probably wondering if someone would have to send for a doctor soon, after the coffee had been drunk.
"So," Nobby said laconically, "I reckon that note's a waste of our time. Why should we have to follow up a so-called lead like that, when we don't even know what it's talking about, let alone what it's saying? Just a practical joke, I shouldn't wonder. Some nutter with too much time on his hands."
"It was a very well-written note, Nobby," said Lance-Constable Stronginthearm.
"Well-written? Don't tell me you even understood the half of it!"
"Well, that's what I mean. That's how you can tell something's well- written, usually. I go to the Dysk theatre a few times a year to see the plays, and blowed if I understand what all them fancy speeches are about. I know it's good writing though, I don't have to understand it."
"I didn't understand it," volunteered Detritus from the corner. This was largely ignored by the assembled group. They fell gloomily to silence again, interrupted only by the sound of a woman at the front desk arguing with the dwarf on duty that she had plainly seen a grown man turn into a cat, and demanding to know what the Watch was going to do about it.
"Are you sure it wasn't a wolf, madam? We do get the odd story about men turning into wolves, but that's more usual, seeing as how there's a growing number of werewolves in the city. I could understand if--"
"It was a cat, I tell you! A great big tomcat, with one eye, giving me the most... offensive look! I pay my taxes, you know--"
The dwarf sighed. "Could I have a description please, madam...
* * *
Captain Carrot carefully laid down the note on Vimes's desk, with a thoughtful look in his eye. "Very... enigmatic, sir." "Thank you, Captain, for that astute observation. Any ideas?"
"A couple, sir. However, I'm not at all sure at this stage. Perhaps Constable Angua could... uh, employ her special talents in the direction of this note?"
"You mean, see what she can smell on it?"
Carrot shuffled his feet, slightly uncomfortably. "Yes, sir. It may help to direct our investigations towards whoever wrote it."
"Fine, fine. I'll leave you to handle it, shall I?" Vimes turned back to his paperwork, guiltily aware of the colossal mountains of it that were in perpetual danger of slipping off his desk and possibly burying him if he didn't get out quickly enough.
Carrot walked out of the room, taking another look at the strangely cryptic note. It read:
Drab as a fool, aloof as a bard. In a regal rage ran I. Was it a cat I saw? Too bad, I hid a boot.
No lemons, no melon. Never odd or even. I saw desserts, no lemons, no melon. Distressed was I. Desserts, I stressed!
* * *
Angua slipped her clothes back on while Carrot waited politely, averting his eyes. "I did smell something strange on that note. The edges seemed as if they'd been smeared with... well, with snails." She gave him an embarrassed look. "Only it wasn't quite snails. It was slightly darker toned than that." "Interesting. Anything else?"
"Yes - the overlying scent was of Klatchemite. Can you think of anyone who would use that?"
A suggestion of a satisfied smile flitted over Carrot's features as he stared pensively at the wall. "I said, can you thi-"
"Thank you, Constable. You have, I hope, solved the case. At least, of who wrote this riddle. And now we can find out what on Disc it's all about."
* * *
A shadow fell across the Patrician, and he looked up from the documents in his hand. "Ah, Commander. And Captain Carrot too, I see. How good of you both to join me in the Palace Gardens. How are you both finding your new positions in the Watch?"
"Oh, fine, thanks," said Vimes, a grimace hovering momentarily over his face as he recalled how he had achieved his new rank. "My paperwork's much more interesting now. However sir, you will be pleased to know that I relish the challenge."
"Delighted, Commander. Are you perhaps seeking a revision of the wages of the much enlarged Watch?"
"No sir. There is someone who we wish to see in connection with an investigation." "I see. And whom do you wish to see?"
"A prisoner of yours, I think."
There was a slight pause. "Indeed?" said Vetinari, his expression becoming fixed.
"A special prisoner, sir," said Carrot, his open, honest face a meticulous study of candour. "I believe he has been receiving your hospitality since he left the Alchemists' Guild some years ago. We understand that he has some information about a crime."
The Patrician directed a piercing glance at Carrot and then at Vimes, and, evidently coming to a decision, nodded. "Very well. Follow me."
* * *
"Mr da Quirm," Vimes growled, "I'd be very much obliged if you would just tell me now what this is all about, before I arrest you for wasting valuable Watch time and resources. Do you know you've had the entire Watch house perplexed about this?"
"Dear me, I'm very sorry," said Leonard, anxiously. "I thought you were a clever lot in the Watch - I assumed that you'd be able to solve the little puzzle quite quickly. I apologise for my misconceptions." "That's not really the issue here," said Vimes, trying not to notice, out of the corner of his eye, the Patrician's quickly concealed smile. "Why was it riddled in the first place? And how come you didn't sign it?"
"But I did sign it, Commander. Not with my name," he added, as Vimes started to protest, "but I wrote each line backwards. Surely you know that I write a lot of my notes backwards? I would have thought that would make it as clear as a signature."
"You wrote it backwards? But it's still readable - I thought that backwards writing couldn't be read properly?"
"Well, you see-" started Leonard, before Carrot interrupted him, grinning:
"Sir, Mr da Quirm still wanted the note to look intelligible - perhaps so that it didn't get taken for rubbish?"
"That's right," smiled Leonard, nodding.
"If you examine the note, sir, you'll see that each line reads the same backwards as it does forwards. That's what gave me the idea in the first place that Mr da Quirm wrote it. Also, it seemed to be tainted with Klatchemite, now, no one in their right mind would eat that, Mr Dibbler won't even put it on his sausages. So it had to be someone experimenting with inks. That confirmed it."
"Splendid!" cried Leonard. "I was using Klatchemite to achieve a particular shade of black, and also to deter dogs from eating the note. With my new ink, thousands of school children will have their homework spared from destruction! Lord Vetinari, may I congratulate you on your choice of captain for the Watch?"
"All very well," said Vimes, uncomfortably aware that as the senior officer, it should have been him taking giant leaps of logic that way, "but what does it actually mean?"
Leonard sighed. "Two nights ago I'm afraid I saw a theft taking place. Unofficial, I fancy. The man was richly dressed - hence 'drab as a fool', since the current king of Lancre used to be a fool. I realise that this may have been a little obscure, so I added the word 'regal' in the next line to give another clue. 'Aloof as a bard' simply meant that the man was being careless, not taking much notice of his surroundings."
"And did you see a cat?" enquired Vimes caustically, referring to the third line of the inventor's riddle. Leonard hesitated. "I think so. It was hard to tell - that is why there is an element of doubt expressed in the riddle. However, I believe I saw the man change into a large cat as he made off down an alley. Perhaps I should have made that clearer-" he began, then stopped as Vimes shot him a glance of irritation. "The lemons and melon, through their colour, symbolised the gold of the jewellery that was taken. 'Never odd or even' reflected that crime in this city is neither fair or, alas, unusual." "Don't I know it," mumbled Vimes, not quite loudly enough for Vetinari to hear.
"The word 'desserts' was, I'm afraid, a bit of a pun on 'deserter' - what with the man running off rather rapidly after the event. And the last line was merely there to emphasise the importance of the 'deserter' to the whole situation. I'm sorry to have caused you so much trouble over this, gentlemen, but as I said, I'm surprised that you needed my assis-"
"Thank you, Mr da Quirm-" started Vimes angrily, until Carrot interjected.
"I beg your pardon, Mr da Quirm, but I'm still unclear as to where this crime took place."
Leonard paused, frozen to the spot. "Where it took place?"
"Yes - which jeweller's was the man stealing from?"
The inventor stood stock still for a moment, and then gently subsided onto a chair. His face was a plethora of anxiety. "Where..."
The watchmen waited for a few moments, until it was apparent that Leonard wasn't going to move in the near future. Lord Vetinari peered at him, and then gestured in the direction of the door.
"In all the excitement, I'm afraid, it seems that Mr da Quirm has unhappily forgotten any details not mentioned in the note. However, I'm sure you fine officers of the law can work out where the incident occurred. Good day, gentlemen."
The sudden, intense silence came pounding into the ears of Sam Vimes, recently appointed Commander of the Ankh-Morpork City Watch. He frowned as he cocked his ear towards his half-open door, vaguely wondering where the usual hubbub of the open office downstairs had gone.
"Fred!" he called down. "Is there something I should know about?"
There was a pause as Sgt Colon ponderously climbed the stairs to Vimes's office. "Yes sir, I was just about to inform you sir, of this strange and mysterious note what has just arrived by carrier pigeon, sir. We've been puzzling over it sir, and we can't make head or tail of it, let alone a boat, hat, chrysanthemum, or other amusing shape, sir."
Vimes extended a hand and received a folded piece of paper which had probably been perfectly clean before having been passed from hand to grubby mitt among the relief downstairs. Curious, he opened it, and noticed that the edge felt as if it had been stuck down previously. A smaller piece fell out of the fold. It read: 'Dear Sir, I believe that this may be of assistance in connection with certain felonious events that occurred two nights ago. Sincerely, a concerned citizen.'
The larger note, however, was much more baffling.
* * *
Cpl C. W. St-J. Nobbs stirred the depths of his coffee mug with a grimy, dirt-encrusted finger. The rest of the relief watched in fascinated horror, probably wondering if someone would have to send for a doctor soon, after the coffee had been drunk.
"So," Nobby said laconically, "I reckon that note's a waste of our time. Why should we have to follow up a so-called lead like that, when we don't even know what it's talking about, let alone what it's saying? Just a practical joke, I shouldn't wonder. Some nutter with too much time on his hands."
"It was a very well-written note, Nobby," said Lance-Constable Stronginthearm.
"Well-written? Don't tell me you even understood the half of it!"
"Well, that's what I mean. That's how you can tell something's well- written, usually. I go to the Dysk theatre a few times a year to see the plays, and blowed if I understand what all them fancy speeches are about. I know it's good writing though, I don't have to understand it."
"I didn't understand it," volunteered Detritus from the corner. This was largely ignored by the assembled group. They fell gloomily to silence again, interrupted only by the sound of a woman at the front desk arguing with the dwarf on duty that she had plainly seen a grown man turn into a cat, and demanding to know what the Watch was going to do about it.
"Are you sure it wasn't a wolf, madam? We do get the odd story about men turning into wolves, but that's more usual, seeing as how there's a growing number of werewolves in the city. I could understand if--"
"It was a cat, I tell you! A great big tomcat, with one eye, giving me the most... offensive look! I pay my taxes, you know--"
The dwarf sighed. "Could I have a description please, madam...
* * *
Captain Carrot carefully laid down the note on Vimes's desk, with a thoughtful look in his eye. "Very... enigmatic, sir." "Thank you, Captain, for that astute observation. Any ideas?"
"A couple, sir. However, I'm not at all sure at this stage. Perhaps Constable Angua could... uh, employ her special talents in the direction of this note?"
"You mean, see what she can smell on it?"
Carrot shuffled his feet, slightly uncomfortably. "Yes, sir. It may help to direct our investigations towards whoever wrote it."
"Fine, fine. I'll leave you to handle it, shall I?" Vimes turned back to his paperwork, guiltily aware of the colossal mountains of it that were in perpetual danger of slipping off his desk and possibly burying him if he didn't get out quickly enough.
Carrot walked out of the room, taking another look at the strangely cryptic note. It read:
Drab as a fool, aloof as a bard. In a regal rage ran I. Was it a cat I saw? Too bad, I hid a boot.
No lemons, no melon. Never odd or even. I saw desserts, no lemons, no melon. Distressed was I. Desserts, I stressed!
* * *
Angua slipped her clothes back on while Carrot waited politely, averting his eyes. "I did smell something strange on that note. The edges seemed as if they'd been smeared with... well, with snails." She gave him an embarrassed look. "Only it wasn't quite snails. It was slightly darker toned than that." "Interesting. Anything else?"
"Yes - the overlying scent was of Klatchemite. Can you think of anyone who would use that?"
A suggestion of a satisfied smile flitted over Carrot's features as he stared pensively at the wall. "I said, can you thi-"
"Thank you, Constable. You have, I hope, solved the case. At least, of who wrote this riddle. And now we can find out what on Disc it's all about."
* * *
A shadow fell across the Patrician, and he looked up from the documents in his hand. "Ah, Commander. And Captain Carrot too, I see. How good of you both to join me in the Palace Gardens. How are you both finding your new positions in the Watch?"
"Oh, fine, thanks," said Vimes, a grimace hovering momentarily over his face as he recalled how he had achieved his new rank. "My paperwork's much more interesting now. However sir, you will be pleased to know that I relish the challenge."
"Delighted, Commander. Are you perhaps seeking a revision of the wages of the much enlarged Watch?"
"No sir. There is someone who we wish to see in connection with an investigation." "I see. And whom do you wish to see?"
"A prisoner of yours, I think."
There was a slight pause. "Indeed?" said Vetinari, his expression becoming fixed.
"A special prisoner, sir," said Carrot, his open, honest face a meticulous study of candour. "I believe he has been receiving your hospitality since he left the Alchemists' Guild some years ago. We understand that he has some information about a crime."
The Patrician directed a piercing glance at Carrot and then at Vimes, and, evidently coming to a decision, nodded. "Very well. Follow me."
* * *
"Mr da Quirm," Vimes growled, "I'd be very much obliged if you would just tell me now what this is all about, before I arrest you for wasting valuable Watch time and resources. Do you know you've had the entire Watch house perplexed about this?"
"Dear me, I'm very sorry," said Leonard, anxiously. "I thought you were a clever lot in the Watch - I assumed that you'd be able to solve the little puzzle quite quickly. I apologise for my misconceptions." "That's not really the issue here," said Vimes, trying not to notice, out of the corner of his eye, the Patrician's quickly concealed smile. "Why was it riddled in the first place? And how come you didn't sign it?"
"But I did sign it, Commander. Not with my name," he added, as Vimes started to protest, "but I wrote each line backwards. Surely you know that I write a lot of my notes backwards? I would have thought that would make it as clear as a signature."
"You wrote it backwards? But it's still readable - I thought that backwards writing couldn't be read properly?"
"Well, you see-" started Leonard, before Carrot interrupted him, grinning:
"Sir, Mr da Quirm still wanted the note to look intelligible - perhaps so that it didn't get taken for rubbish?"
"That's right," smiled Leonard, nodding.
"If you examine the note, sir, you'll see that each line reads the same backwards as it does forwards. That's what gave me the idea in the first place that Mr da Quirm wrote it. Also, it seemed to be tainted with Klatchemite, now, no one in their right mind would eat that, Mr Dibbler won't even put it on his sausages. So it had to be someone experimenting with inks. That confirmed it."
"Splendid!" cried Leonard. "I was using Klatchemite to achieve a particular shade of black, and also to deter dogs from eating the note. With my new ink, thousands of school children will have their homework spared from destruction! Lord Vetinari, may I congratulate you on your choice of captain for the Watch?"
"All very well," said Vimes, uncomfortably aware that as the senior officer, it should have been him taking giant leaps of logic that way, "but what does it actually mean?"
Leonard sighed. "Two nights ago I'm afraid I saw a theft taking place. Unofficial, I fancy. The man was richly dressed - hence 'drab as a fool', since the current king of Lancre used to be a fool. I realise that this may have been a little obscure, so I added the word 'regal' in the next line to give another clue. 'Aloof as a bard' simply meant that the man was being careless, not taking much notice of his surroundings."
"And did you see a cat?" enquired Vimes caustically, referring to the third line of the inventor's riddle. Leonard hesitated. "I think so. It was hard to tell - that is why there is an element of doubt expressed in the riddle. However, I believe I saw the man change into a large cat as he made off down an alley. Perhaps I should have made that clearer-" he began, then stopped as Vimes shot him a glance of irritation. "The lemons and melon, through their colour, symbolised the gold of the jewellery that was taken. 'Never odd or even' reflected that crime in this city is neither fair or, alas, unusual." "Don't I know it," mumbled Vimes, not quite loudly enough for Vetinari to hear.
"The word 'desserts' was, I'm afraid, a bit of a pun on 'deserter' - what with the man running off rather rapidly after the event. And the last line was merely there to emphasise the importance of the 'deserter' to the whole situation. I'm sorry to have caused you so much trouble over this, gentlemen, but as I said, I'm surprised that you needed my assis-"
"Thank you, Mr da Quirm-" started Vimes angrily, until Carrot interjected.
"I beg your pardon, Mr da Quirm, but I'm still unclear as to where this crime took place."
Leonard paused, frozen to the spot. "Where it took place?"
"Yes - which jeweller's was the man stealing from?"
The inventor stood stock still for a moment, and then gently subsided onto a chair. His face was a plethora of anxiety. "Where..."
The watchmen waited for a few moments, until it was apparent that Leonard wasn't going to move in the near future. Lord Vetinari peered at him, and then gestured in the direction of the door.
"In all the excitement, I'm afraid, it seems that Mr da Quirm has unhappily forgotten any details not mentioned in the note. However, I'm sure you fine officers of the law can work out where the incident occurred. Good day, gentlemen."