Chapter Three



This is rubbish. I know; I can't write convincing Vetinari; I had to do this dreadful chapter so I could get on to the interesting part of the story; it'll probably end up very long; you don't have to read it, but don't say I didn't warn you...



Vetinari and Vimes belong to Pterry; Drumknott is his as well; I'm not sure who owns Elkiah Mownde - he's a blatant crib from Dickens, though I have changed the name and catchphrase! Apologies.



Vetinari looked out of his window to see the figure of the Commander of the Watch wandering dazedly about the square. *Oh, dear...* he thought, something that rarely passed his lips, *I seem to have gone too far. Perhaps it was a mistake.*



But after all, it had been Vimes who had asked. Not that it hadn't been pleasant, but it was not something he particularly wished to repeat. He was perfectly happy without personal relationships. They only got in the way of his true thirst - his thirst for control.



There was a knock on the door.



"Come," he said languidly, expecting Drumknott; his mind busy with plans to repair the Duke of Ankh.



"Good morning, sir,"said a rather oleaginous voice, and Vetinari looked up in slight annoyance.



"And you might be...?"



The stooped figure raised its grimy cloth cap, and the Patrician had a horrid glimpse of lank strands of black hair combed over a bald patch. "Elikah Mownde, sir," he said, "I'm afraid I took the liberty, though I should 'ope I'd always be found quite lowly, sir, as I should be, I'm afraid I took the liberty of telling your clerk I was expected."



The Patrician glared at him. The greasy little mannikin seemed quite impervious, although a jug of water that happened to be in the direct firing line froze solid. "You are not expected, Mr Mownde, and neither are you required. The door is behind you. It opens if you turn the handle."



"Oh, I'm ever so lowly, but I can't 'elp thinking if I was to tell you what I seen, you wouldn't be taking that tone with me. Shall I tell you what I seen, when I was looking up at where they said the great Patrician always worked? Shall I say who I seen through the window, and who they was 'olding, and what they was a-doing of? But you already know, don't you, cos who was it? Why, who'd believe that? But I say there's plenty of people what'd believe that, and some of them would be right 'orrified, if you gets my meaning."



Vetinari weighed up his options. They were depressingly few. The unctuous voice had said just what he had known. *Hades,* he thought.