The MGC returns? C15+5
"I really think we'll be wrapping this up soon" Joan Sanderson-Reeves remarked to her fellow investigative Assassins.
"And now, I think, we come to the tricky bit." said Alice Band, still trying to shut the image of herself having to dance with Mr Boggis of the Thieves' Guild out of her head.
"We all do have to do distasteful things for the good of the Guild, cherie!" Madame Emmanuelle Lapoignard les Deux-Épées reassured her.
This time they were meeting in Emmanuelle's rooms: Joan was adamant she wasn't having any of those filthy black cigarettes in her personal space, thank you very much, and Alice also felt hospitality had its limits. Alice loked around her, wondering how one small suite of rooms could simultaneously exhibit both the very best and the very worst of Quirmian style. And as for that bed…
Well, Emmanuelle should know about distasteful. The way she had avenged an insult against Johanna and a student called Ruth N'Kweze, neither of whom had been in a position to retaliate, had been ruthless, callous, stylish, and in the best traditions of the Guild. It had also meant a certain amount of looking up and thinking of Quirm whilst in the arms of a bastard who had nothing to commend himself, except for the fact he was good-looking and well-built, in a brutal sort of way….
"And don't look at me like that, Alice. I managed to delay him and hold his attention long enough to distract his attention from Boggis's thugs. Then when they arrived, zut alors, I slipped away with my personal honour only mildly tarnished."
"Hussy." Joan murmured, but with a hint of praise and admiration.
"You know me, Joan, I can huss for Quirm!"
"You do. Frequently. But the point is, from now on we can expect no co-operation from the Watch, as they will want to conclude this arrest themselves. So how do we get in there first, and ensure Davinia Bellamy is arrested by the Guild, as Lord Downey requested?"
Elsewhere in Ankh-Morpork, André Loudweather, Detective-Inspector of the Cable Street Particulars, was having a similar sort of conversation with Commander Vimes and Sergeant Angua.
"Well-founded rumour has it that Downey's collecting candidates for another of his Mature Students classes." Vimes said, rolling the cigar to the other side of his mouth as he'd seen Harry King do a thousand times. He caught it neatly as it fell out, wondering how King managed the trick of talking and smoking at the same time.
"We know he's already bagged that librarian from Pseudopolis. You know, the one with a pretty direct zero tolerance attitude towards borrowers who return books late and damaged, or use bacon rashers as bookmarks."
"It was only one borrower, sir. And she had been having a hard day." Angua said, in mitigation.
"Whatever" said Vimes. "It's not in my jurisdiction, anyway, so I can afford to concede him that one. And the art teacher from that girls' finishing school in Überwald. The one who lost it and suggested to a particularly annoying brat that a good way to get a point on your brush is to suck the bristles. Pity nobody warned the pupil that Ubu White is highly poisonous."
Vimes glowered at his officers.
"Anyway, the point is. Remember the last time Downey did this, a few years ago? I'm not concerned about what Alice Band did, it was a long way outside this city and she was arguably cleaning up a situation that should have been dealt with long before, if Überwald had any law worth a spit… sorry, Angua. And the Smith-Rhodes girl was fighting in a war in her own country and did what she felt she had to. But those other two took the piss. The… Marriage Guidance Counsellor…"
"The original one, sir" André said, helpfully.
Vimes glared at him.
"Miss Sanderson-Reeves. And the Black Widow, so-called. Between them, thirty-two killings, in my own bloody city. And we were so bloody near collaring both, but the bloody Assassins contrived to get in first. That hurt!"
Angua and André stayed diplomatically silent.
"I met the Black Widow last night, at that party at that bloody man's." Vimes said. "I didn't want to go, but Sybil insisted, she said we should look in at a neighbour's, be sociable, it was only good manners, and she felt so sorry for the wife. Up to her old tricks again, like the way we believe she inhumed three or four of her kills. I don't care much for the bloody idiot she mesmerised into going outside with her, but getting him into a false state of security so Boggis's thugs could work him over and damn near break every bone in his body. Her modus operandi in a nutshell!"
"Thieves' Guild business, sir." Angua reminded him "Despite frequent reminders and very strong recommendations he should do so, Mr DeBeers had refused to buy Thieves' Guild insurance. They had the right to take him for all he had. Besides, our investigations have disclosed that on his first night in the city, only the intervention of a bodyguard from the Assassins' Guild, Miss Smith-Rhodes, in fact, prevented the Thieves from, er, doing him over good and proper on that occasion. Miss Smith-Rhodes was put under personal danger and threat to her life, and quite understandably wasn't pleased about it, and it caused a minor breakdown in working relations between the Assassins and the Thieves. I believe Miss Band and Madame Deux-Épées used last night as an opportunity to restore good working relations between the Guilds, as well as to take revenge on Mr DeBeers for endangering their friend. I also understand mr DeBeers had been verbally provocative to the Thieves on the prior occasion, and they used the opportunity last night to advise him that politeness costs nothing. Sir."
"He makes friends easily, doesn't he? And that business with the black girl, when he demanded I arrest her and return her to the Embassy as an illegal emigrant. If there's one thing I hate, it's people telling me my job. Thankfully, Sybil gave me the excuse I needed to dismiss it and let the girl go."
Vimes nodded.
"The deBeers case. We'll call it attempted suicide and close the book. I'll brief Ambassador van der Graaf later on. No objections? Good. We'll get back onto the important thing now.
"How do we stop the bloody Assassins wrong-footing us now? Possession is nine-tenths of the law, as you know, and I want this Bellamy woman in my cell with a watertight case before we go to Vetinari."
Lord Vetinari read the latest reports and looked more thoughtful than usual.
"Drumknott, please ensure a conference room is held open for our use for the remainder of this week. I think the corner suite on the third floor, with unrivalled views as far as the Opera House and Pseudopolis Yard through its turnwise windows, and of Filigree Street and the Assassins' Guild through its Rimward windows. "
"Very good, sir" said the Patrician's personal secretary "Shall I prepare invitations to Commander Vimes and his staff, and to Lord Downey and the Assassins' Guild investigators?"
"Hold them close to you, Drumknott, in readiness to go out at a moment's notice. I fear we are soon going to run into a demarcation dispute and I will be called upon to arbitrate".
Damietta Langworthy-Eccles woke up the following morning, stiff and painful. She had asked to retain the services of those two bright and intelligent young maids from last night: Keeble had been happy to oblige. The black girl, the one who had been embarrassed by that oafish Howondalandian, and the clever knowledgeable young girl from Dimwell.
As they cleaned and tended to her injuries – both of them seemed to have uncommon first-aid and nursing skills – she mused, with sorrow, that some poor woman was going to end up married to that bullying abrasive colonial. As sure as she could be, she knew that another battered wife was waiting in the wings for DeBeers, and the whole miserable story was going to repeat itself. At least, by the account, the street thugs who had set upon him had dealt some conclusive but non-lethal injury (she knew Thieves were bound not to kill, or the Assassins' Guild would take a severe interest). That should keep him down for a while, although she felt sorry for the staff at the Lady Sybil.
"Ruth, did you really run away from the Embassy?" she asked, gently. "You can trust me!"
Ruth N'Kweze, who in reality was a younger daughter of the Paramount Chief of Kwa'Zululand, shook her head with a smile.
"No, madam." she said "I and my family are free Howondalandians! I have of my own free will worked for a White Howondalandian lady who is generous to her employees and who has never called me a nigger or a kaffir. I believe that is where the gentleman remembered seeing me, and that is how the confusion arose last night."
Damietta nodded.
"And had Commander Vimes chosen to send you to the Embassy last night?"
Ruth smiled.
"Whilst Lady Sybil was privately checking my arms for the slavery-tattoo, she asked how good a runner I was. She assured me that her husband would choose a Watchman such as Sergeant Colon to escort me to the Embassy. If a young girl of my age cannot outrun a fat old man in his fifties, something is wrong with the world."
The three of them laughed together.
Damietta said
"You're very good at this, Sharon Where did you learn to look after injuries like that?"
Rather than draw attention to the Assassins' School's training in first aid and field medicine, Sharon said
"Being a lady's maid is only a job for now, madam. Doctor Lawn trains nurses at the Lady Sybil, and I want to learn, but you have to be sixteen to apply, I take whatever courses I can, so as to be able to show him I can do it when the time comes."
"Well, if you ever need a reference" said Damietta.
They helped her dress, and confirmation reached them that the Master was still in bed snoring with no inclination to rise
Mrs Langworthy-Eccles reached a decision.
"I need to go into town." she said. "Sharon, will you escort me? I'll call a coach."
As they left, one of the gargoyles on the front of the house jerkily angled its neck to follow them. It made a mental note
Lady of the house leaves in cab. Accompanied by student Assassin identified as Higgins, S. 10:20 am.
This would be communicated to the Yard and the Palace as part of the surveillance log. Sharon would also debrief this to Joan Sanderson-Reeves, along with other interesting information, later in the day.
The cab's first call was to the Royal Bank. Sharon accepted the instruction to "wait here", and she did this, noting the time and the duration of wait, for twelve minutes. Finally, Mrs Langworthy-Eccles returned, still tucking something into her handbag. Sharon recognised the ornate cross-hatching and gilding on a high-value banker's bond, but showed no reaction.
And then they crossed town again, alighting at a florists' on Pelicool Steps. Sharon caught the flash of glass in the sun from a building on the opposite side of the river. She wondered if it was a telescope, or an iconograph with a long-distance macro lens.
As Damietta entered the shop, she caught the flash again.
Davinia Bellamy recognised a possible client the moment she walked in. The downcast beaten look, the makeup applied heavily to hide the bruising, the fact she walked with obvious pain. This aroused her interest. But all those things could be faked, she reminded herself. This could still be an agent provocateur set up by the Guild or the Watch.
It was a god time, though: she had sent her assistant off on an errand to a far part of the city, and the girl would not be back for a while yet. They were alone in the shop.
"May I help you, mrs…?" she prompted
"Mrs Damietta Langworthy-Eccles." came the reply Davinia remembered the newspaper account. She was now 90% certain she had a genuine special client. The urge to conclude a deadheading surged up unbidden. This was going to be a live one. Just a couple of security questions.
They discussed flowers for ten minutes, then Davinia took the liberty of resting her hand on what she judged to be a particularly badly bruised arm. She watched her customer wince, and put on a very sympathetic, attentive, face.
"I thought so. Would you like to talk about it?" she invited. "I've got some very good coffee brewing."
Davinia turned the shop sign from "open" to closed", and prepared two cups. And Damietta told her everything.
And… you heard from your lady's maid that I might be able to assist." she prompted
"A very clever young girl from Dimwell. She's in the cab outside."
"Please bring her in".
Sharon Higgins, like Ruth N'Kweze before her, took in the shop in great detail whilst pretending to observe little. As she had been briefed, she told the cover story that her aunt, whom she named as one of Davinia's earlier customers, had found marital satisfaction after visiting Davinia.
Davinia Bellamy nodded. This all fitted. But a previous customer who was getting indiscreet.. not good.
"And let's say I did. Your aunt doesn't just go around telling everybody, does she?"
"No, ma'am. I overheard a conversation she had with my mother, thinking nobody else was listening. You know how it is, you talk freely and in confidence to your sisters, or who else can you talk to?"
Davinia nodded again, reassured. The story fitted.
"Thank you, Sharon. I need to conclude business with your employer. You may leave."
"Yes, ma'am" Sharon said submissively, and returned to the cab.
As the two women talked inside the shop, and a banker's draft made out for three thousand dollars changed hands as a downpayment, from a listening post several hundred yards away, Detective Constable Lychee Chang allowed a big grin to spread across his face
Bingo. He hurriedly scribbled down the last shorthand account of the conversation he had overheard.
Detective Constable Lychee Chang was a lapsed monk from Enlightment Country who had suddenly had a reverse vocation, a sudden flash of darkness that had made him renounce his vows and seek confusion and darkness in the big city.
Trained by the Listening Monks to focus on and pick out a single conversation happening several hundred yards away, the wily Captain Carrot had realised what an asset he could be and had signed him up to the Watch. Expressly, to the Particulars. The cost of a sound-proof set of rooms for him to live in, as life in the city was something of an aural ordeal when he wasn't working, had been met by Commander Vimes without a tremor.
As the coach sped away back to Speedwell Lane on the other side of the river, several reports were already converging on Pseudopolis Yard.
The end-game, at least for the Watch, was in sight.
"We've got her!" Joan said, exultantly. "We've bloody well got her!"
Joan had discreetly met the two student Assassins in Hide Park during their lunch-break and debriefed them. What she heard had sent her back to the Guild in a fast cab to confer with Alice, Lord Downey and the QCIC investigators.
"We've got to work fast." Alice urged. "I don't know if you've noticed, Joan, but all our Watch contacts are suddenly unavailable. I saw Sally for a few minutes. She was reluctant to talk, but she hinted that co-operation's over and Vimes is cutting us out of the loop. He wants a quick Watch arrest."
"And we cannot let that happen" Downey said, firmly. "This woman has skills. She has style. She has talent. And you would be the first to tell me the School needs more women teachers. I have, as it happens, got two exciting prospects lined up for you. This third would be the icing on the cake, especially since we have no dedicated botany teacher. Miss Smith-Rhodes has got some very exciting ideas about the future direction of our Natural History department, but she would be he first to admit we cannot proceed without a dedicated botanist of the correct, ah, vocational inclination. How can we be sure of this woman?"
"Sir, even if the Watch get her first, we can appeal to Lord Vetinari?" Alice said.
Downey frowned.
"That is leaving too much to chance. Vetinari might well indulge the Watch, and let them have a day in the sun and a hanging to attend"
"Well, wasn't the deciding factor with me that I aroused too much public sympathy?" Joan inquired. "That the women of this city might storm the Tanty and free me on the scaffold? You might remind him of that."
Downey considered.
You may be sure I will. But to forestall opposition I really need her as a… temporary guest… of this Guild. Bring her in, ladies."
"We have two days" Joan mused. "If she's been paid a deposit, she'll make the move tomorrow or the day after. If we can nab her on the doorstep with a bouquet of killer flowers, we have her."
"I am not sure, under law and Guild charter, if student Assassins are legally able to bring about a detention." Said Mr Brown. "Oh, they are capable young people indeed and I have no doubt at all. But will it stick, legally? We must have some fully licenced Assassins in the vicinity to make the detention stick."
"That's us, then!" Joan said, cheerfully. "Me, Alice, and Emmanuelle. Johanna's going to be sick she's missed out in this, she's contributed so much!"
They worked out a plan. An elderly retired Assassin lived on Speedwell Lane, within sight of the Langworthy-Eccles estate. He would be asked to put up with the inconvenience of the three lady Assassins using his home as an observation point. The moment Davinia Bellamy arrived bearing flowers, they would move out, overpower her, and return her to the OP. The student Assasins inserted into deep cover at the house would secure he evidence, and hopefully by the time the Watch turned out, it would be a done deal.
But as General Tacticus had once famously remarked, no battle plan survives first contact with the enemy.
Alice sipped her tea appreciatively, as she sat by the window watching the front of the Langworthy-Eccles house. Old Jeremiah Grinstead (Cobra House) had been more than happy to host them, making gallant remarks like "Teachers at the School never looked like this in my day!" and telling them long-winded anecdotes about student life seventy years before. Joan and Emmanuelle, off watching duty, listened appreciatively, Emmanuelle philosophically remarking that it was brightening up life for le pauvre vieux.
The poor old man, pathetically pleased he could still make a contribution to the active profession in his late eighties, was physically frail, but mentally sharp, asking astute questions about the new generation of lady Assassins and their aptitude for the profession, and insisting his domestic retainers press drinks and refreshments on the ladies. They drank sparingly, not wanting to be compromised by biology at a critical moment, but it was Emmanuelle's fate to be at the privy when Alice shouted
"She's here!"
"Ah! Merde alors!" came an answering frustrated shriek.
"Follow on when you're ready!" shouted Joan, as she ran after Alice. The two women ran into the road across to their target.
Davinia Bellamy took a cab right to the door of the Langworthy-Eccles home with a bundle of flowers, their blooms very carefully wrapped in see-through cellophane paper.
"This won't take a moment" she assured the driver, as she got out. The exultant feeling of concluding a deadheading surged and sang through her. She felt suddenly very alive and aware of he vivid quality of colour and even the finest sound. She could swear she could hear… running feet?
She frowned, and sought to conclude the delivery.
The door unexpectedly opened to her. She was blinded by an iconograph flash near her face. Other hands took the flowers from her and sought to grab her, but somehow she evaded them and stumbled back into the cab.
This wasn't meant to happen! An inner voice screamed, as she leapt up into the cab, more by luck than judgement. Instinctively, she kicked out at arms that were trying to grab her legs. She heard a faint "oof…", a male voice, and a body crashed to the gravel. The tug at her legs ceased. Bujt he running feet were now crunching on a gravel path. She swung her legs in and slammed the cab door shut, locking it and calling an address to the driver, who instinctively picked up speed.
She could hear an authoritive female voice calling
Davinia Bellamy! Stop right where you are. You are under arrest!
But the cabbie put on a gallop and was son out in the open road. Fighting to regain vision through a series of actinic flashes, Davinia heard the driver call down
"I ain't doing nothing illegal, ma'am! 'Least, not without a big bonus!"
"You'll get it. You can say I held a crossbow to your head, or something."
Was that a thump, as of something hitting the back of the cab hard? Davinia didn't stop to pursue its significance She knew it was all lost now, and her heart pounded. She also recalled she'd instinctively given the cab driver her home address.
Ruth very gingerly pushed the flowers blooms-down into a large bin, as she'd been briefed. Trying not to breathe, she covered it with a tablecloth
Stepping back, she took a grateful long shuddering breath.
"Ah. My flowers Give them to me, please."
Mrs Langworthy-Eccles.
Ruth shook her head.
"I can't allow you to do that, ma'am. I'm sorry. I really can't."
Ruth would have been ready for any reaction, up to and including physical violence.
Shuddering, defeated, broken, sobbing tears were not what she'd expected. She went to comfort her erstwhile employer.
"Overconfidence, Mr Webbley!" Student assassin Richard Webbley, doubled up in pain after a very well-aimed kick in the groin, looked up through painful tears at Alice Band as she passed him on her way to the house.
"Buy the farm, lad." Joan Sanderson-Reeves said, kindly, as she passed. "By the look of you, you've already got a couple of achers".
They went into the house and showed their Guild badges.
"Assassins' Guild investigation." Said Alice "Nobody, but nobody, touch those flowers! Miss N'kweze here and Miss Higgins will see to it that nobody goes near those flowers. This is an attempted murder scene…ah, Sergeant Littlebottom!"
The first Watch patrol had arrived, alerted by the gargoyle. They must have had an observation post here too, Alice reflected. Only we got here first!
"Thanks for securing the area, Alice" Cheery said. "You can leave it to us now."
"Gladly!" Alice said. She pointed at a footman she didn't recognise as an undercover student.
"You!" she said. "Get us a coach. Now." The footman ran off, recognising Assassin black and the harmonics of a teacher's voice.
Richard Webbley hobbled in.
Ma'am, just after she kicked me while I was trying to detain her, I heard the address she gave the cabbie.."
"Whisper it to me, then!" Joan barked, not wanting the Watch to overhear. She nodded, hearing a coach pull up to the front of house.
"Ours, I think. And I know exactly where she's gone to ground!"
"Miss N'Kweze, Miss Higgins. Mr Webbley. Help the Watch with their inquiries. And thank you!." Alice called, as they ran to the coach.
"Bash on, driver!" Joan cried, as it sped off.
Emmanuelle growled with frustration, realising she was a long way behind her two colleagues. She smiled at he old man as she ran out in the street towards their target.
Suddenly, a licenced cab came galloping out. Emmanuelle had a hint of mousy blonde hair and glasses. She tensed. This could only be attempted once. As the cab passed her, she coiled and leapt, her superbly honed athlete's body responding to the challenge. Then she was climbing to a secure position on the back of the cab, travelling Hubwards with it as it speeded through the city.
She noted it was coming to a stop.
14 Spa Lane. Just off Hope Springs. The Bellamys' home address. She will make her last stand here.
Emmanuelle waited while Davinia paid the cab driver, by the simple expedient of emptying her purse into his hands. He tipped his hat to her and began to canter off. She dropped from the back of the cab and carefully followed Davinia Bellamy to the house.
Now the sensible thing to do is to watch and wait. But what if the people who will assuredly follow and get here first are the Watch? Lord Downey will not be pleased. Eh bien. A girl must do…
Intent on concluding the arrest solo, Emmanuelle crept into the Bellamys' front garden, noting how well-tended it was. She noted the front door was invitingly open.
"Mrs Bellamy?" she said "This is the Assassins' Guild. You should be so kind as to give yourself up…oooof!"
Emmanuelle fell forwards, thinking "Oveconfidence, ma petite. A desperate woman, defending her home…"
And then unconsciousness.
Davinia Bellamy threw down the remains of the flowerpot she had just used to hit the woman over the head with. She reflected the Assassin was not going to be pleased when she woke up. She removed Emmanuelle's sword-belt and threw it aside, feeling no desire to pick up weapons she didn't know how to use.
The girl was breathing regularly and blood oozed from a cut on her scalp. She didn't have long before the girl woke up. Grabbing her arms and half-dragging her, Davinia took her round to the back of the house, knowing where she could use her life as a bargaining counter.
"Follow that bloody coach!" Sam Vimes yelled at the Ramkin family driver. One of the Watchmen accompanying Cheery, who was quick on the uptake and realised the Assassins had no intention of trading information, had sprinted off across Kingsway, risking life and limb to the traffic, to alert Vimes, who was using Ramkin Manor as a command-post.
He had blurted out a report to Vimes, who had hustled him and three other Watchmen into a Ramkin coach with orders to the driver to intercept a coach-load of Assassins, travelling Hubwards up Seven Sleepers' Road to Pallant Street.
"We're being followed, m'dear. Watch. Sam Vimes is up on the driver's seat and doesn't look too pleased at all. Positively stone-faced, I'd say."
"Hmm. Wonder if he's worked it out yet?" asked Alice.
Davinia finished her final preparations and sat, ashen-faced and with beating heart, where she could watch the approach routes into the garden. She hoped they wouldn't make too great a mess or trample on any young growth when they attacked. Behind her, the now securely tied Assassin groaned into wakefulness.
One way or another, it will soon be over, she reflected.
"Tip the driver, Alice. Noblesse oblige, and all that!" Joan requested.
Alice found a dollar, which was gratefully accepted. Then, with all caution, she followed Joan into the garden.
Joan suddenly stopped and picked something up from the grass. It was instantly recognisable: Emmanuelle's cherished sword-belt. Both women drew breath. She wouldn't abandon this willingly. Their friend was in trouble.
They moved on, watching for trouble, Anyone who could lay out Emmanuelle in a fight, a woman with many inhumations to her name, was going to be a tough proposition. Tougher than they had suspected.
And then they found her.
"Lost them, sir!" the Ramkin driver reported. Vimes scowled. Although the press of traffic on the city's roads made it hard to follow, let alone catch up with, or overtake.
"Ok, then. Let's try police intuition here. I've read all the reports. This is a woman who prides herself on being a home-maker and mum to a family. She's in deep trouble. I notice from the general direction we're taking that we're close to her home address. I'm betting that's where she'd run to when the ability to think clearly has gone. Fourteen Spa Lane. In your own time, driver."
"Yes, sir!"
The coach cantered off again. They paused only to stop and question the driver of a familiar-looking coach that was travelling Rimwards down Pallant Street. Faced with arrest, the driver confessed that yes, guv, them two women Assassins dropped off at a house on Spa Lane. Well, what could I do, they're bloody Assassins, aren't they…"
"Don't come any closer!" a shrill voice yelled at Joan and Alice. "I've got your friend. She's safe, for now."
"Glad to hear it" said Joan, affably. "Because you would not even begin to know what sort of trouble you get into for killing an Assassin!"
Joan and Alice walked cautiously forward. They saw Davinia Bellamy, hair and glasses askew, sitting in front of an open hot-house, surrounded by plant-pots Behind them they heard other people running into the garden.
"The game's up, Bellamy!" they heard Vimes roaring.
Joan half-turned her head.
"Be careful, Commander!" she called. "You don't know what those plants are, and she's got a hostage! She's armed and incredibly dangerous!"
Alice heard a large dog growling, a noise that began somewhere in the low bowel-troubling sonic and ascended into a world of threat. Then a large golden-haired wolf accelerated forward. Davinia Bellamy barely hesitated before selecting a plant-pot and throwing it, accurately. It shattered a foot or two in front of the wolf, scattering green foliage everywhere. The effect on Angua was instantaneous. She howled, stopped dead, and turned tail, staggering back towards the Watchmen.
"That was wolfsbane!" Davinia shrieked. "And I've got plenty more. Garlic too, for your vampire! Stand back!"
Alice and Joan looked at each other.
"She's a born Assassin." Joan whispered "What an asset!"
"And that's assault on a Watch member!" said Vimes, triumphantly. "I've got you on that, if nothing else."
"Really, commander? I saw a wolf! Where was her badge?"
"And she's learning to think under pressure." Alice whispered back, appreciatively.
Davinia looked at them.
"Where's the other one?" she demanded. "The redhead? From what I read, the four of you are inseperable friends."
"I wouldn't go that far…" Alice began "And anyway, she's…." Joan kicked her ankle, urgently.
"She's nearer than you think, m'dear."
They took the opportunity to take another couple of steps forwards, as Davinia suspiciously turned round, as if expecting Johanna Smith-Rhodes to emerge from hiding behind her.
"No further!" Davinia demanded, picking up another plant and making as if to throw it.
The two women were almost in range now. One last lunge forwards…
And then something emerged from within the hothouse. Tangles and lengths of green tendrilled creeper hung from her arms and body, some of it festooned with suckers and hooks. Her once-stylish black clothing was torn and hung from her body, and blood oozed from wounds to her arms and hands as well as a large broken bruise to her forehead. Emmanuelle was not having a good day.
The she stepped forward and pinioned Davinia's arms to her body, loudly saying
"Be so good as to cease fighting, s'il tu plait. I am not an unreasonable woman and I do not hold a grudge, happily for you. But I arrest you, in the name of the Guild of Assassins. C'est fini, cherie!"
Joan stepped forwards. There was only one form of words to speak, and she was empowered by Downey to speak it.
"I believe you have an appointment with the Master of the Guild, m'dear. In the circumstances, if we could borrow a pair of handcuffs from the Watch…"
"Now hold on!" Vimes protested. "That's our prisoner! And in any case I've got her for assault on Sergeant Angua!"
A patch of deeper darkness detached itself from a shadow among the apple trees at the edge of the garden.
"I do find a stroll in a well-tended garden is so rejuvenating" said the Patrician. "I do hope it will not be allowed to go to rack and ruin. That would be a shame. You have some prime examples of magnolia grandiflora here, Doctor Bellamy. So hard to grow in our unforgiving Hubwards climate, but a sweet reminder of Genua to all who know that city. You are to be congratulated."
Vetinari turned benevolently to the pursuers.
" I rather anticipated a demarcation dispute of his nature." He said So I have made arrangements for a hearing at the Palace to consider who gets to decide Doctor Bellamy's future. In the meantime, I also anticipated the, ah, denouement would happen here, so I gained access to this garden to stand back and observe results."
"You were here?" Emmanuelle demanded, affronted and angered. "You were here all along? When she knocked me out, stole my swords – oh thank you, Alice, ma très chere amie! Then she tied me to one of her flesh-eating monsters in the hothouse and bade me sit very still for fear of being eaten? And you did nothing to assist?"
The Patrician raised a mollifying hand.
"My dear Madame Deux-Épées!" he said "Formerly known as The Black Widow, I believe. You malign me. Please ask yourself why the otherwise efficient Doctor Bellamy left a pair of secateurs just within reach of your right hand, so that you were able to use your skills and resources as a Licenced Assassin, and cut yourself free? She would not make an error like that. And if not she, then who? I like to give everyone a fair chance, and I do abhor needless and wasteful death."
Emmanuelle fell silent. The Patrician smiled.
"To the palace, I think. Lord Downey will have received my request for his attendance by now."