Lewton made his way up the bloodstained stairs and entred the Watch House. His eye caught that of Nobby at the reception desk. He didn't seem to be working, but his ears were emitting rather acrid smoke. Of course, what with most of Nobby's cigarettes being dog-ends from the streets of Ankh-Morpork, and the city's most prevalent smokers, the wizards, being in the habit of forming dog-ends together into new roll-ups, half of what he was smoking had probably been smoked continuously for the last ten years and the rest was dog turds.

"Hello, Lewton." said Nobby as the P.I. entered. None of the other watchmen seemed to be around, which was probably a good thing for Lewton. Vimes had probably told them all to treat him as dangerous serial killer who could strike again any second.

"Evening, Nobby," said Lewton. "Any idea where Vimes is?"

"Old Stoneface's in his office. But you're not going up there, are you? I know you two haven't been on the best of terms, and he's very overworked right now, and he thinks you're the killer. I don't think it'd be a wise idea."

"Nobby, you wouldn't know a wise idea if it dressed up as Vetinari andperformed an erotic tap dance of the seven robes on your desk."

Lewton immediately headed for the stairs, while Nobby frowned and eventually said, "Fair enough." He didn't know the Pseudopolis Yard watch house; they hadn't moved into it until after Lewton had been discharged from the force. But he could smell Vimes.

He opened the door to the office without knocking and found Vimes half-hidden behind the old-growth forest of paperwork looming out of his desk.

"Come to give yourself up?" asked Vimes. The look he was giving Lewton wasn't just pointed. It was fanged.

"Good evening, Commander," said Lewton, ignoring that comment for the moment.

"It was passable," Vimes admitted, "But then you showed up. What are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to talk with an old friend about the good old days."

"Well, Nobby's downstairs. Don't let the door decapitate you on the way out. I'd hate for there not to be any left for me when we finally get you for these murders."

"Why do you still bear a grudge against me, Vimes?"

"You know why, Lewton," he replied, pronnouncing the name the same way he might say 'nobility', or the way others might say 'suspicious gutter-smelling brown lump in my distressed pudding.'

"What, Because I took a bribe? Just that once? You never held it against Fred or Nobby, and I know you knew about them."

"That was different. The odd cream cake from a baker, a dollar or two from an unlicensed thief not to hand him over to the Thieves' Guild, knowing what they'd do to him... that's differentto what you did."

Theymatched scowls for a moment. "It wouldn't have anything to do with the desperate comforts of two drunk and lonely men? I remembered it the other day - I saw a certain slogan and remembered whose buttocks exactly that was tattooed on, and how I knew."

Vimes had closed his eyes. Lewton knew the feeling - both of them, for various reasons, had tried to put that part of their life behind them. Vimes, perhaps, had had more success than him. Now, in such short a time, seeing Ilsa, remembering that and remembering this - it was like the reopening of a half-healed wound. "I promise you," said Vimes, "I fired you because you took a bribe from Lord Rust. He killed people, Lewton."

After a pause, Vimes opened his eyes. "How about, when you leave today, I'll try and forget that I ever met you. You're just a suspect in a case."

"Right." said Lewton, unconvinced. He glanced around the room. The curtains were closed, and the only light came from the candles on the desk. Almost on impulse, he leaned forward and kissed Vimes.

Vimes just stood there. Just stood there, not moving away but not joining in. But Lewton could see in his eyes some kind of feeling. He was very good at being impassive. Lewton, meanwhile, just felt that familiar ache as if a troll was clenching his chest in one fist, a feeling he associated with the piano blues and Ilsa and the Song and Samael and cheap whiskey and Vimes. Suddenly, Vimes' eyes shot wide open. Lewton could remember the fire, remember the feeling as it scorched through every blood vessel, awakening he beast. He ended it, and something rather like a smile crept onto his face.

"Vimes." he said, "I know you'll always have a grudge against me, no matter what you say. But you may find that, from now on, you're a whole different person."

At that, Lewton practically laughed, as he left the room without another word, left the watch house, stood on the bloodstained steps, grinned madly at the moon... and howled.