Chapter 9: The scent of a woman
Captain Carrot stood to attention in front of Vimes' desk. The commander looked at his reflection in the captain's breastplate and wiped off a drop of tomato sauce from the corner of his mouth.
"I have compiled the list, sir. There are not many women in the city with connections to the Agatean Empire."
Vimes received the sheet of paper and scanned it. There was the mistress of the Agatean Ambassador, the wives of six merchants involved in trade with Bes Pelargic, the mistress of one of them, two sisters of another, the mother of a semi-famous explorer and one of the language teachers at the Assassin's Guild, who had led a field trip to the Counterweight Continent the previous year. Vimes returned the paper to Carrot. It shouldn't take Sergeant Angua long to check up on a dozen suspects.
It didn't take Sergeant Angua long. She set off with the list in her pocket and a polite smile on her lips. "Good afternoon, I am Sergeant Angua, City Watch, this is a routine investigation..." Her human nose was quite sufficient. There was no need to Change, if the scent had been strong enough for John Silver to notice. She made sure she got close enough to each lady to inhale her personal fragrance.
By the afternoon of the second day, she left the small house in Esoteric Street where the explorer resided. The call had been as futile as the others. She had visited houses, mansions and flats and had registered a stunning variety of smells. Roses, parsley, washing powder, cinnamon, hydrangea, incontinent cat, ink, silk, lavender, roast chicken, cloves, hyacinth, tea, coriander, shoe polish, sealing wax ... They had all filled her nostrils with dazzling swirls of colour. But no lilies. It was almost astonishing how the ladies all seemed to favour other flowers.
Angua made her way across the Water Bridge and towards Runecaster Way to see the last person on her list, the mistress of a spice merchant. If she didn't find what she was looking for here, she would have to return empty-handed. Commander Vimes would not be pleased. He wouldn't exactly go spare, but he'd make it clear that he was so, so put upon. Angua sighed. There was nothing she could do about that.
She crossed Mort Lake and continued along Water Street. Opposite the Bath House a woman passed her and she suddenly caught a whiff of the scent she had been rooting for. There was no mistaking the sweet and heavy, golden purple smell of lilies. Angua spun round and looked at the woman's back. She was a tall woman. A very tall woman.
"Excuse me, madam!"
oOoOo
Being a meteorologist on the be Trobi islands would be so boring that it would reduce the average brain to cream cheese within a fortnight, which is why the be Trobi people, not given to cruelty, didn't bother with weather forecasts. The sun shone anyway.
It shone on the mountains and the beaches, on the villages and the groves of palm trees. And it shone on a little hut close to the shore, where Havelock Vetinari sat in a basket chair on the veranda while Angelina Vetinari, nee Winter busied herself about the brick stove, which was set a few yards away from the building. 1) It was just before lunch time.
Mealtimes on be Trobi were often challenging for the Vetinaris. The kindly islanders provided them daily with an eclectic assortment of raw ingredients, but it was up to them to turn these into something not only edible, but palatable. They were taking it in turns to make the meals. Neither of them had ever cooked before and their approaches reflected their respective mindsets. Angelina treated cooking as a form of alchemy. She mixed things together and hoped for a favourable reaction. Vetinari treated it as politics, coaxing rivalling and diverging elements into doing what suited his purposes. To Angelina's chagrin, he was more successful than she was. His Mango and Jellyfish Kedgeree had been a triumph, while her Grilled Rainbow Fish with Banana Sauce was Best Not Talked About. Still, she insisted in doing her share of the cooking, convinced that she would eventually find a way to tackle fish.
Vetinari was perusing a copy of the Ankh-Morpork Times that had found its way to be Trobi via Bes Pelargic. Taihameme had brought it into their hut like a trophy. It was two months old. Angelina had flinched when she had seen the headline. RUST ON NEW STAMP. Vetinari hadn't batted an eyelid. He had made his way through the first three pages without any signs of emotion. However, suddenly he frowned.
"Listen to this, Angelina:
RUBBER GUILD BOUNCES BACK
The Guild of Rubber Manufacturers welcomed Lord Rust's decision to lift the ban on Hershebean raw rubber. The move came yesterday after a guild council meeting discussed the impact of the price of rubber products on specific businesses.
Guild leader Xavier Snaigilla (53) applauded the verdict of the Acting Patrician. 'The constraints imposed by Lord Vetinari over the last two years have been stifling for our business. There was never any evidence that Hershebean rubber caused harm to the public, and the expense of importing raw rubber from be Trobi has driven up the prices for rubber products unnecessarily. We are delighted that this unreasonable restriction has been dropped and have already contacted our business partners in Hersheba.'
Mrs Rosie Palm of the Guild of Seamstresses also welcomed the move."
"So that's why the ship didn't come!"
"Indeed. And it won't be worth waiting for another. Rubber is the only thing be Trobi has ever exported to Ankh-Morpork."
"So we are stuck? But we must get away!" cried Angelina. "And we must make sure that the ban is reinstated, or the rubber pest will start all over again."
"I'm afraid there is nothing we can do about that at the moment. But we are not stuck. I will go to Uyoiyahuoi again at the earliest opportunity and find us a ship. We'll have to go home by a different route, via Klatch or Bes Pelargic."
Angelina put the steaming plates on the table. Vetinari folded up the paper and seized his fork. They ate in silence for a few minutes. Angelina tried to spit out the fish bones as discreetly as possible. Eating whole fish didn't come naturally to her. Filleting, however, even less so. Most fish looked tattered enough after she had gutted them. If fish bones insisted on being easier to remove after cooking, then Nature obviously meant it to be that way. Who was Woman to argue with Nature?
"So Lord Rust has your job now," began Angelina as soon as she had conquered her fish. "Is that very bad?"
"It is. I only hope Vimes has punched him."
"You mean 'hasn't.' "
"I mean exactly what I say."
They sat for a while in silence, listening to the roar of the surf. Vetinari picked up the paper again and began to do the crossword.
"When do you think we'll be able to leave?" asked Angelina.
"In a week or so, I hope."
"Oh, good!"
"You are so pleased? Won't you be sad to leave your new friends?"
"Oh, well, it's never nice to say good-bye. But somehow - well, they are very good people, of course, and we owe our lives to them and all that, but really, on the whole..."
She chewed her lip and played with a strand of hair. Vetinari just waited.
"On the whole, I am not sure how good they really are. I mean, truly, at heart. They are kind, they are cheerful, they are generous. But it's easy to be generous if you have plenty of everything, and to be kind and cheerful if you have no worries in the world. I do wonder how good they would be if they were ever really pushed? I'm not so sure if they possess the goodness that comes from renouncing badness."
"You think their goodness would be of a higher moral value if it were the result of weathered hardship and self-denial?"
"More to be trusted anyway."
Vetinari laughed.
"I didn't think that was funny," said Angelina.
"Neither did I. I was only reminded of a little speech I once gave to the worthy commander. He is always striving to sort the good people from the bad, so I told him there were no good people, only bad people on opposite sides. He protested, of course, but I insisted that all I ever saw from my window was a great sea of evil."
"Really?"
"Yes. Vimes is depressingly easy to wind up."
"So that's not what you truly believe?"
"Sweeping generalization - does that sound like me? No, it is as you say. One cannot tell with people until they are put to the test."
"Yes."
"Then, of course, one knows that they are evil."
Angelina looked at Vetinari with suspicion. He wasn't exactly grinning, but she didn't want him to think she was as gullible as Commander Vimes. Without another word, she disappeared into the hut and emerged after a while with her rolled up towel.
"You can do the dishes," she said.
"You are going away."
"Yes, I'm going for a little dive with Kamauri and the others."
"I wish you wouldn't do that."
"Why not? The girls may not be paragons of morality, but they're not going to do me any harm."
"There are other creatures that might. Sharks, jellyfish, sea trolls. I would have a more pleasant day if I knew you kept out of their way. Besides, you are not supposed to go into the water straight after a meal."
Angelina laughed.
"Listen to yourself, Havelock Vetinari! The most stoic man in the Sto Plains, excuse the pun, and here you are clucking like a hen over her chicks. You're worse than my mother!"
"I am only being sensible."
"And I'm old enough to look after myself, don't you worry!"
She blew him a kiss and ran down towards the beach. Vetinari shook his head and returned his attention to the crossword. It was maybe just as well he didn't know that by now Angelina was diving with a knife between her teeth.
1) The be Trobi people were really keen on fire safety. They didn't even allow heated arguments inside public buildings.
oOoOo
It was well before dawn, but Goldy Jorgensson was on early shift and therefore Mrs Scunners had risen in the small hours to set the table, brew coffee and fry eggs for her favourite boarder. Mrs Scunners approved of the neat habits and steady manners of the dwarf, not to mention the prompt payment of the weekly rent. She also appreciated a boarder who had basic skills in plumbing and carpentry and was willing to put them to use for free. Most of all though, she simply liked Miss Jorgensson for her cheerful nature.
However, right now the breakfast smells were the only cheerful thing in the room. The two candles were no match for the December darkness, and the fire was too small to drive away the cold and damp. Goldy felt depressed. A little cloud of gloom had been building up over her head for quite some time now. When Angelina had returned to Ankh-Morpork, Goldy had hoped that their sisterhood of three would be restored to all its former comfort. Marriage or not, three friends would always find a way to be together. Or so she had thought. She had been in for a disappointment. Not only had Angelina disappeared from the face of the Disc, but Tvoolia was so engrossed with Henry that she hardly had any time for her remaining friend. The other boarder, Limette, had been suitably described by Henry as grumpy and pickle-faced and was doing nothing to raise Goldy's spirits.
As if all that wasn't bad enough, just a few weeks ago Goldy had Found Out. After two years of guarded conversations and circumspect looks, she had eventually decided that it was time for her to make a definite move. She had waited for an opportunity to get Lucky Haettenschweiler alone and had suggested a walk in Hyde Park after work. Her heart had been beating enough to make her beard tremble. Lucky had agreed, and Goldy had spent the remainder of her shift almost sick with excitement. At five o'clock they had set out together. They had barely reached the grassy haven of the park, when Lucky began: "There is something I really feel I should tell you, Goldy…" And for a few seconds, Goldy's heart had been soaring like an albatross, only to crash land when Lucky had explained how she considered Goldy a very good friend, respected her greatly etc. She! SHE! Among all of Goldy's feelings of dejection and shock and heartbreak, the most prominent one had been anger. Anger to have been led on for two years, anger that Lucky had not told her ages ago, before Goldy had built up her hopes and gambled away her heart in daydreams that took up almost every waking moment 2).
It was a calamity of cosmic dimensions, as far as Goldy was concerned. Unrequited love would have been delightful in comparison. Unrequited love would have allowed her to continue coveting the object of her dreams, to continue hoping for a change of heart. Because hearts, experience teaches us, can be changed, but the other thing…
And now this. This was the last straw. The Patrician had imposed a new Exceptional Tax, which only applied to any citizen more than six-and-a-half or less than four-and-a-half feet tall. It was very deliberately not called a Troll and Dwarf Tax, but everybody knew that that's just what it was. Goldy was more than mildly miffed. With great satisfaction had she been adding to her little hoard of coins every week, and now there would be an end to that. No friends, no lover, no savings - what point was there in staying in the city? Mrs Scunner's fried eggs weren't a big enough incentive. Goldy placed the cutlery neatly on her empty plate and trudged off to work. She was beginning to consider the benefits of returning to Copperhead.
2) Apart from when she was thinking about her savings. Or her work. Obviously. Coming to think about it, she might have been considerably less upset about the whole affair, had she not been hanging out so much with these romantically inclined human females.
oOoOo
As usual, Vetinari had been right and it only took a week or so before he returned from Uyoiyahuoi with the news that he had found a suitable ship. A galleon bound for Al Khali was to set sail within three days. Angelina was ecstatic and began packing straight away. She had spent a lot of time sewing, and since the be Trobi women were as generous with their fabric as with everything else, she now possessed more clothes than ever before in her life. Admittedly, these clothes would not be of much use in the climates she had previously spent her life in and was hoping to return to, and to make even half as many clothes suitable for the cooler climates the fabric would hardly have sufficed. However, since she had nothing else, she packed her bi-skin-knees and hip wraps with care and devotion. That evening, when they sat on their veranda after a dinner of Calamari Without Coconut Fritters, she beamed at Vetinari as if he was a knight in shining armour just appeared to save her from a vile dragon.
"I am so glad we are leaving! I can't wait to get home and let my poor parents know that I'm all right. I won't even mind being at sea again."
"I'm sure you won't," replied Vetinari. "However, there is the small problem that we have no money. A Klatchian ship won't take us for free by virtue of me being Lord Vetinari. I am afraid your rings and the watch will have to do as payment."
"I think not," said Angelina and cupped her hand around the watch.
"Angelina, I understand that you are attached to them, and I am sorry, but we have nothing else. In fact, we'll be lucky if the captain will be satisfied with so little."
She smiled at him wistfully.
"Pearls are quite valuable, aren't they? Especially when they are strange colours? Don't give me the eyebrow! Wait a minute."
She disappeared into the hut and came back a minute later with a small woven raffia pouch, which she dropped into Vetinari's lap. He opened it and poured the content into his palm. Intrigued, he looked at the pile of some forty pearls of different sizes and shapes. About two thirds of them were creamy white, the others were black or silvery grey, and two were an iridescent blue.
"Good heavens, Angelina, this is a small fortune. How did you come by them?"
"Kamauri showed me how to find them."
"You have been diving for pearls?"
"Yes."
"There are rather a lot!"
"I found one or two most days. It is actually fairly easy. The oyster beds are in very shallow waters around here, only eight or nine feet, and of course I am a singer."
"And that is useful because…?"
"Diaphragm control. Plenty of puff, you see?"
He looked again at the gleaming pile in his hand.
"Blue pearls? I admit that I do not have your connections in jewellery, but am I correct in assuming that they are exceptionally unusual?"
A smug grin appeared on Angelina's face.
"They are fairly rare here and virtually unheard of anywhere else. 3) It was just fluke that I found two. The be Trobi never sell them. Kamauri told me that every pearl diver keeps the blue pearls as a lucky charm. They all have their little treasure pile stashed away somewhere."
"Would they mind if you took these away?"
"I don't think so. I found them, they're mine. I dare say they will be priceless to a Klatchian."
Vetinari smiled.
"You are a resourceful woman, Lady Vetinari. Well, I am glad you came by them the regular way. If you were starting to cry tears that turn into pearls, I might have to drown you."
3) Angelina was quite mistaken about that. Blue pearls are found in abundance on the small planet of Gyndolum, where the native Hastfagls use them as book marks.
oOoOo
Vimes walked home with a brisker pace than usual. Anger was no stranger to him, but his current fury could have melted rocks. 4) Finding out that Vetinari had not become the victim of a political intrigue and that the culprit was a jilted ex-lover had been bad enough. Of course he had secretly hoped that Rust would turn out to be at the bottom of it, but when Dame Gina Dulci had been arrested with all the ensuing drama that almost jeopardized the secrecy which Vimes considered appropriate in this case, she had left no doubt that her motivations were entirely private. Crime of passion! He spat onto the street.
But now things had got even worse. He should have seen it coming. Rust had pardoned her, he had bloody pardoned her! Because, so the new Patrician's elucidation went, there was good reason to believe that the storm would have shipwrecked them even without any interference and that it was ultimately Vetinari's own fault for taking such a risk. Secondly, said Rust, Madam Dulci should be granted clemency in view of her outstanding services to the Arts. Silver and Shafto were jailed under charges of gross negligence. Rust had seen no reason to be lenient with them. After all, they had only been in it for the money and had never made headlines with astonishing vocal accomplishments. Apparently Rust thought that the singer's obsession with Vetinari constituted some kind of higher motive. Before he knew it, Vimes had chewed up almost his entire cigar. He tossed the butt away. It was still his city, but more than ever it resembled a seamstress.
He had reached the Brass Bridge and suddenly he knew what he had to do. It would hurt, but when had that ever stopped him? There was a danger that he would suffer some kind of mental breakdown if he didn't hit somebody, and soon. He clenched his fist and punched one of the hippo statues square in the face.
4) Real rocks, of course. Vimes was no enthusiastic subscriber to political correctness, but he never offended where he didn't need to.