Chapter 3
Angelina Winter spent the following weeks working conscientiously and systematically on her assignment. She explored the affected area, interviewed residents, collected samples of soil, air, water and plants. And she spent long hours analyzing her samples in her office. This was a spacious room on the ground floor of the palace, adjacent to the palace kitchens and close to the back exit that led out into the coach yard. Office was a presumptuous term for the room that became soon cluttered with jars, tubs, boxes, all manners of alchemist's equipment, books and folders full of paperwork and every now and then was filled with the rich and mellow sound of Miss Winter singing to herself. One day on coming down the back stairs Vetinari found to his surprise the cooks and kitchen maids lined up along the wall listening at the door to Miss Winter's office. When they perceived his approach, they scurried back into the kitchens. He paused briefly in the now empty corridor, discerning the fragments of song. Presently, he made a mental note to speak to Drumknott about this and went out to board his carriage.
----
My dear Cassandra,
Thank you for your letter. I very much enjoyed your account of the guild meeting. That Mr Yuletwite seems to be quite an original. Very funny what you said to him about the financial report! Did he realize you had seen the second copy? I bet people were very impressed with your astute deductions. Papa will be proud of you, I dare say!
Things are going rather well here. I am making good progress with my work and have a few ideas now as to what might be the culprit. Unfortunately this city is so rife with pollution that it is hard to tell which of the many poisons I am finding is to blame for this particular problem. So I am doing a bit of detective work. First I drew up a map of the spread of the affected areas and how they are situated in relation to the major industries. Then I went to visit as many households as I could manage and found out that the illness first began about seven months ago. So now I have to check the factories to see what changes they have made around that time. Mr Drumknott is very helpful and lets me see all sorts of relevant documents. He is really a very obliging young man.
Last week I had a rather unsettling experience. One of the families I visited had a mute little girl in a wheelchair; she must have been about seven or eight. She held out her hand to me and smiled, and I almost burst into tears because she reminded me so much of dear Penny. Her name is Marigold. She has two older brothers, who have made her a little book of leather pages, and on each page they have drawn some pictures. Marigold points to the pictures to tell them what she would like to eat or play or other such things. I wish we had thought of something clever like that for Penny! Sadly, Marigold is of very delicate health and is getting worse now with the "rubber pest", as people call it. I hope I will be able to help her in that respect soon.
I have had two work lunches with Lord Vetinari, who wanted to check up on my progress, but since there wasn't much to tell yet in the way of results, we just talked about other things and had a fairly pleasant time. He is a rather interesting man and seemingly very clever. Gives this impression of very superior equanimity and control, but is at the same time deeply concerned about the city and also quite proud of it, I believe. Henry says he is incurably unpopular and rules the city by fear, but Henry has only met Lord Vetinari once and that was at an Assassins' Guild party. Apparently Lord Vetinari is an assassin himself and is said to be the cleverest student they ever had. I can easily imagine it.
I am becoming quite good friends with Tvoolia Hingh, to the annoyance of Mrs Scunners, who seems paranoid that her boarders will gang up on her, poor woman. A new girl moved in yesterday, well, when I say girl, she is actually a dwarf. Her name is Goldy Jorgensson, and she works as a typesetter for the newspaper. You can imagine that I was a bit surprised, since I had never seen a dwarf in a skirt before. Apparently female dwarf emancipation is a big issue in Ankh-Morpork. Fancy that.
On Octeday I went up to the university to see their Johnson organ and – please don't think I have gone mad, this is just Ankh-Morpork – there was an orang-utan playing Grutson's Pepita in G. He turned round and winked at me. Tvoolia told me later that he is employed there as a librarian. The uncanny thing is that I felt I knew him. This city is so strange, I would be completely lost if it wasn't for Henry and Tvoolia.
Mydear Cassandra, look after yourself and I hope you are doing good business.
Love from
Lina
----
Angelina continued her investigations in situ. Just so that no one, not even herself, could say it had been a foregone conclusion, she had visited several other factories, before she turned her attention to the rubber manufacturers. None of her other calls had wielded any results, so now was the time to find out if popular opinion was right.
"Good morning, Miss!" a ratty-looking street vendor addressed her. "This is your lucky day. I have a fantastic bargain here on genuine Klatchian amulets, guaranteed to protect you against the rubber pest. Two dollars, and that's cutting my own throat. Made from genuine Klatchian Roc feathers, keeps your lungs nice and clear..."
"I wouldn't depend on it, sir, "said Angelina and walked on.
After turning round a corner, she stopped and glanced at her list. A vaguely female looking troll watched her from an open window on the other side of the lane. The rubber factories were clustered around a dingy area at the end of the street. Angelina picked one of the seven names on her list at random and set off to Mr Snaigilla's Rubber Works. The factory was surrounded by an eight foot wall into which was set a wrought iron gate with a porter's cabin beside it.
"Good morning," Angelina greeted the porter, "My name is Winter, I am doing an environmental audit for the city. Could I please see somebody who is in charge here?"
The porter sized her up, which was quickly done. He was one of those people who liked to make a little power go a long way.
"Well, I'm the one who is in charge of the gate, doll," he snarled.
"Yes, that is fairly obvious," replied Angelina calmly. "However, I would like to speak to Mr Snaigilla or one of the overseers."
"What if I don't care who you want to speak to, doll?"
"Then you would be very remiss in fulfilling your duties."
"Getting smart on me, are you?"
"I have made a polite request, I think it deserves a polite answer."
"Well, you ain't getting one, and that's that. It's my lunchtime now. Enjoy the day, doll."
He left the porter's cabin and strolled off across the factory yard.
Angelina peered through the gate and watched him disappear. She saw a couple of men unloading a cart some twenty yards away.
"Excuse me!" she called.
One of the men looked round to her and sauntered over to the gate.
"What's up, hen? Can't let any strangers in, orders from the boss."
"Well, in that case, would you be so good as to inform your boss that the environmental health officer would like to speak to him?"
He looked her down and further down, then he grinned.
"What's it worth to you, hen?"
The frown wrinkled Angelina's nose. She looked aside and counted to ten under her breath. Then she leaned forward and said very quietly:
"I do not bribe people. I work for Lord Vetinari on an assignment that his lordship takes very seriously. It would be much to your advantage to do what I ask you nicely, because otherwise people might become involved who are slightly less polite than I am."
He threw up his hands defensively.
"Calm it, hen, no need to be like that. I'll see if Mr Snaigilla is around."
"Thank you so much," hissed Angelina.
Waiting in front of the gate did not improve Angelina's mood. She tapped her foot and turned this way and that with her arms folded, which might have had more impact had she been significantly smaller and of a bluish hue. She noticed that further down the street the troll woman was still watching.
After about ten minutes, another man came walking across the yard towards the gate. He was bald and portly with wisps of blonde hair sticking out of his ears.
"I'm Snaigilla. What do you want?" he grunted.
"My name is Winter, I am the environmental health officer and I wish to inspect your premises."
"Nobody's going to snoop around my factory, least of all a snooty little miss who threatens my staff."
Angelina silently added "snooty little miss" to the collection of titles she had received that morning. She wished she was a lot younger so she could have a temper tantrum.
"Your staff," she replied icily, "have displayed some unwarranted rudeness to me, as, I might add, have you. I, on the other hand, have merely pointed out the possible consequences of trying to extricate a bribe from a city official. I strongly recommend that you open the gate for me now and cooperate."
"No can do, miss. Try your luck elsewhere," he said and walked away.
Two hours later Angelina marched back up the street, defeated. Six other gates had remained firmly shut in her face, six variations on the theme of "Get lost" had been performed for her in different keys of insolence. She nodded in passing to the troll woman, who was now busily cleaning her windows, and made for the palace, where she went straight to Mr Drumknott.
----
It was Octeday. On the summit of the Tump, Tvoolia Hingh was leaning back against the walls of the ancient ruin. She stretched out her long legs in front of her and smoothed down her glossy black hair.
"You know, you're right," she said, "it does smell a lot better up here."
Tvoolia was a tall, handsome woman in her twenties. She liked to wear long sweeping skirts of flamboyant materials, like the pink and green striped satin that was currently spreading on the grass around her. Looking down on her own plain navy dress, Angelina reflected briefly what an odd contrast they must present to the casual observer.
"The city is a disgrace," she replied. She scanned the prospect at their feet. There was the relative idyll of prosperous Ankh with an ample number of trees dotted around, but beyond the river there was nothing but a shambles of black, grey and brown, in which only the University grounds and the palace gardens stood out. Rimwards, dark clouds of smoke swirled across the rooftops. As for the river itself...
"Do you think you will be able to clear it up?"
"I? No. I am just recording the data. I do hope, of course, that his lordship is going to take to heart any advice I will be giving."
"They say he doesn't have a heart," remarked Tvoolia.
"I shall target his brain, then. He's got plenty of that."
They watched silently as a large, impressive looking woman walked past on the path just below them. She was carrying a baby and spoke to it in the happy, chatty tone of mothers everywhere.
"Look, Sam, that's our house down there. Your Daddy might be home when we get back. And see up there, the lovely ladies sitting and enjoying a bit of autumn sun. Give a little wave, Sam!"
The baby was clearly too young to wave, so the woman took one of his tiny hands and shook it about in their general direction. Tvoolia and Angelina waved back good-naturedly. The mother continued her self-absorbed conversation with the infant and slowly walked out of sight. Angelina bit her lip. The woman had looked well over forty. Maybe it wasn't too late yet. She tried to push the thought aside.
"It sure would be nice," Tvoolia picked up the conversation again, "if you could see to it that the air gets a bit cleaner. I'm a country girl. I've never quite got used to the city stench."
Angelina hugged her knees and pulled her feet under her dress.
"Why did you come here?" she asked, quietly, in case it was an unwelcome question.
Tvoolia shrugged.
"Jealousy, I suppose. I was an only child until the age of twelve. Mum and Dad's treasured princess and all that. Then my mother had triplets. Polly, Peggy and Patty. Can you imagine? Our whole lives were turned upside down, and I was suddenly cast in the role of assistant mum. No more special treats for me. My parents simply doted on these three squirming babies, and I was supposed to grow up almost from one day to the next. It didn't get better as they got older, either. By the time they were seven, they were the most spoiled brats you can imagine, expecting everybody around them to dance to their tune. I couldn't stand it anymore. So I came here. My only real skill was sewing, and through the recommendation of a cousin I found a job. It turned out to be a good job and that's where I have been ever since."
Angelina sighed and briefly pressed Tvoolia's hand.
"Poor Tvoolia. It must be so sad to have three sisters and not be friends with them."
"Well, it's not too bad. I found that I can make friends more easily in Ankh-Morpork than back home. Oh, look, there's Goldy coming."
The dwarf was trudging up the path, waving to the two women she discerned above her. After a few minutes she reached the summit.
"Hello, girls," she panted and pulled out a newspaper from inside her jacket. She handed it to Angelina.
"I thought this might be of interest to your investigation."
Angelina took the paper and perused the page that Goldy had indicated. Then she folded it up with an irritated gesture.
"This is nonsense," she exclaimed, "Who writes this stuff?"
Goldy, who had sat down on the grass, had meanwhile caught her breath.
"Not one of our people," she said. "A man came in at lunchtime and paid double the money for the whole advertisement page. So we decided to let all the wedding announcements and once-in-a-life-time-offers wait till tomorrow and put in the text he gave us. We had just started printing, when Mr de Worde came in. He was very cross when he heard about it and insisted that we took it out again. He said it was biased, and that he would personally take the money back. Trouble is, we didn't get the man's name, so he doesn't know where to take it back to. "
She picked up a blade of grass and began to twist it between her fingers.
"That was at the end of my shift, so I don't know what they'll eventually do. But I took a copy of the paper for you to see, in case it won't get printed in the end."
"Thanks, Goldy, I'm glad you did. Your Mr de Worde it quite right, this account is not only biased but downright false. Whatever it is the trolls use to fry their brains, it will not affect human lungs. I am looking for an airborne substance."
All three glanced at the trails of smoke down in the city.
"The rubber factories after all?" asked Tvoolia.
"Just because a lot of people think that, doesn't mean that it must be wrong. They wouldn't let me in on Saturday, none of them, which seems to indicate that they have at least a sneaking suspicion they might be at fault. I'm going down again tomorrow with a note from Lord Vetinari saying that I'm doing an official environmental audit and they have to let me in."
"Be careful," said Goldy. "If there are people with money involved, then they'll be able to hire more than just a page in the newspaper."
Angelina shrugged.
"How exactly would I be careful? It's not as if I could take an axe with me or something."
"Why not? That's what I would do," said Goldy.
"Because unlike you I would probably amputate one of my own toes with it."
"I could give you lessons..." began Goldy.
"Thanks, but I'd rather remain unarmed," said Angelina firmly.
They sat silently for a while, taking in the sight of Ankh-Morpork in all its splendour and despair.
"Let's go home," said Tvoolia eventually, "It's getting cold."
"Yes, I'm beginning to feel the chill, too. Goldy, please show me the way to that baker's shop again, will you?" said Angelina while she brushed dirt off her dress. "The figgins there were delicious."
Talking of pasties, the three assorted females made their way back down into the filthy city.
----
On Monday morning Angelina set off directly from home towards the Slaughterhouse District.
Her hand repeatedly slipped into her bag to check for the reassuring presence of Lord Vetinari's note. It was an impressive looking piece of paper, with the Ankh-Morpork crest and the V seal on black wax. She had every confidence in it.
When she turned into the street that led to the rubber factories, she wondered why it was so deserted. The other day quite a number of people had been going about their business. Today only the troll woman stared morosely out of her window. Angelina gave her another friendly nod and walked by.
She was about a hundred yards away from the gates to Mr Snaigilla's factory, when two men stepped out of an alley and barred her way. Their looks said it all. No amount of political correctness would have been able to call them anything but thugs. One of them carried a non-descript piece of iron pipe. Angelina dropped her bag. Screaming would be of no use. She was a reasonably good runner, she wondered if she could make it to the troll woman's house. She turned around, only to find a third man waiting behind her. In a split second she calculated the number of life saving options and found them to be zero. Then she saw how the man's eyes widened and she heard some commotion behind her: a thud, a groan, a rustle. The thug in front of her did not wait for the operations of whatever justice was being dealt out; he took himself off in a hurry.
Cautiously she looked around. The two other men were lying on the ground with a decidedly incapacitated appearance. Next to them stood a slender young man with a thin face and short brown curls. He was dressed completely in black.
"Miss Winter? Are you all right?"
"Who are you?" she gasped.
The young man smiled and made the mere suggestion of a bow.
"My name is Constantin. I am your body guard. Lord Vetinari anticipated an incident like this and took precautions accordingly."
"Oh." It took a while for this to sink in.
"Oh," she repeated. "Well, I thank you very much. I was beginning to get rather scared."
"Quite understandably." He picked up her bag and handed it to her. "If you are not too shaken, Miss Winter, I suggest that you persist in your mission. I think it might be best if I accompany you today. Accompany you visibly, that is."
The porter sneered when he saw her approaching.
"Have ye brought a little friend, doll? Won't do you much good, believe me."
Angelina pulled the document out of her bag and held it up in front of him.
"This is a letter from the Patrician. Can you read? Open the gate for me, please."
The porter grinned smugly.
"You have a piece of paper, doll, I have a key."
Then the grin froze on his face. The tip of a blade was pressing disagreeably against his throat.
"Say sorry to the lady," said Constantin pleasantly. "And give that key to me."
Two minutes later Mr Snaigilla looked up in surprise.
"You? How the hell did you get...?"
"Mister Snaigilla! What a pleasure," cooed Angelina sweetly.
----
"Mr Drumknott?"
"How can I help you, Miss Winter?"
"Do we have an incident log?"
The clerk suddenly looked worried.
"Errr...should we have one, Miss Winter?"
"Under the current circumstances I would appreciate it."
Drumknott glanced towards the fireplace.
"We have some very fine pine logs here, Miss Winter, but I do not know how... err... incidental they are."
Miss Winter laughed.
"I mean a book, Mr Drumknott. A book to write in things that happen."
"What kind of things, Miss Winter? I hope you haven't been assaulted again?"
"No no. But I believe things like attempts to bribe Ankh-Morpork's environmental health officer in order to get her to suppress certain results of her investigation ought to be recorded somewhere."
"Oh, that kind of thing. Yes, we have such a book. I call it the Trouble Book."
"Ah, that's a suitable name. Yes, I believe there will be trouble about this."
----
My dear Cassandra,
what a time I've had! After that ridiculous business with none of the rubber manufacturers letting me onto the premises, I went back there on Monday morning with an official letter from his lordship, which I believed would sort the problem. Looking back now, it maybe wouldn't have, but as it turned out I didn't have to depend on it.
It is appalling what kind of bullies live in this city. I was actually waylaid by three really threatening thugs, and I don't think it is a great mystery who set them on me. Believe me, I would not have known how to cope with them, but fortunately a rather charming young assassin took care of them for me. Because, amazing as this may be, his lordship has given me these secret bodyguards, who have been watching my every step for weeks. As you can easily imagine, that was not at all an idea which appealed to me, though of course under the circumstances I was very glad of it. Well, I had some serious words with his lordship about my privacy and all that and also about wasting the city's resources, and eventually he at least agreed that Constantin and his colleagues would only shadow me during my work hours.
But I have gone ahead of my story. The really useful thing about Constantin that day was the fact that you don't need to argue when you've got an assassin with you. I inspected three factories that day and four on the next, and nobody dared to give me any cheek. So I have all the samples I need now and a fairly clear idea of what I am going to find.
I didn't get much of a chance to do serious work today, though, because before I even left the house in the morning I had to deal with the greatest insolence yet. A man came to Mrs Scunners', sat in the lounge bold as brass when I came down for breakfast and "confidentially" offered me 1000 dollars in return for me "misplacing" my samples and analyzing another set that he would provide. So I said to him: "Let me be rightly understood. This transaction, to which you have the presumption to aspire, can never take place. I am an officer of the city and I will not be bribed." I said it so loudly that Mrs Scunners popped her head through the door, and that scared him away.
I must say, this episode upset me more than all the other trouble, and with one thing or another I was actually late getting to the palace, where I reported the whole incident to Mr Drumknott. Not much later Lord Vetinari came and asked me various questions, and when he noticed how agitated I was he said I should take the rest of the day off and he would see to it that nobody would bother me again. So this is me back in my room now. I will play some music to calm myself down. Hope you are well, regards to Joaquin.
Lots of Love
Lina
PS: I haven't forgotten about your questions regarding the opera, but am not in the mood to answer them today. Will write about that some other time.
L.