Elisabeth had given Neil the idea he needed to complete his plan. The work with the Easy man had fallen through: even Neil had been unable to penetrate his thick skull. He didn't trust the girl to do it. He was not so dimwitted that he believed she was entirely convinced. Besides, if she slipped up he would be left alone. That would be intolerable. He would have to do it himself.

The girl wouldn't like it, but what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her. He only needed her to arrange some of the basics.

"Elisabeth," he called.

"Yes, Father?" Each footstep followed closely after the previous one. Neil was pleased with the attention.

"Elisabeth, I need to visit the palace to arrange some business matters. How soon will you have transport for me?"

"Father, it's not wise to visit the palace so soon after that-" Elisabeth paused. "That accident."

"Don't pussyfoot around it, girl. The Patrician was murdered."

"That's even more reason to stay away, Father. The world may be a better place without the Patrician, but involving yourself personally is foolish."

"My dear Elisabeth, do you really believe that it would not be suspicious if I refused to work at the palace? I will not have much to do with the murder, but I must do this job." For good measure he added, "It's not that I have a particular desire to know any more about the affair, but I have very little choice." If she were to divine that he was lying, let her catch him there, rather than where it mattered.

There was a pause before Elisabeth answered, "Very well, Father. I'll have a carriage ready for you within the hour. Do you want me to help pack your case?"

"No, I'll do that," Neil said grumpily. She mustn't know what he was planning to take with him. Besides, he was perfectly capable of doing it himself.

"You can't leave the room unguarded," Vimes said. "Anyone might get in there."

"I do not see your problem, Commander," Downey said. "Our investigation committee has ascertained that an unfortunate accident occurred. The scene is being cleared and redecoration is already commencing. We can't afford to waste time on such an unnecessary formality." Before Vimes could respond, he added, "The guild heads have dismissed accusations against one individual on the grounds that only circumstantial evidence was available. However, if that individual were to continue to act in a suspicious manner, we would be forced to resume our investigations."

Vimes stiffened. "I see. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do." He turned and walked away briskly. On the way back to Pseudopolis Yard, Vimes shuffled puzzle pieces around in his mind.

The bottle of turnwise wine was locked in his desk drawer. There had been traces of alcohol in the blood samples, or in some of them. Somebody had been bribing young Frank Easy. The imp in the Disorganiser was still going on about its recurring event. Jenkins must think he was a fool to send that bottle of wine.

When Vimes reached the Watch House, he had made his decisions.

"I have been commissioned to work on a delicate imp installation in the main palace office," Neil said to the man at the palace gate. "I will need someone to escort me to the site." He was pleased that his voice remained steady despite his nerves. It wasn't that he was afraid: logic dictated that he must succeed. Vetinari had been murdered. The murderer had not been at the scene. Therefore he must have operated from a distance. The flow of the logic was soothing. This murderer had not been working from a distance in space, but a distance in time. The turnwise wine would send the consequences of his actions into the past. He could not fail: Vetinari had been murdered.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I'm placing you under arrest." The fear the logic had suppressed flowed through his body. He must try not to show it.

"You can't arrest me. I haven't done anything illegal." His voice was still steady. They wouldn't be able to stop him. Vetinari had already died. Somebody had to kill him.

"You are arrested on a charge of bribery, Mr Jenkins. You have the right to remain silent." It wasn't possible, Neil reminded himself. Although the young man clearly thought it was.

"But I haven't killed Vetinari yet," Jenkins said. "You can't arrest me." He winced at the shake in his voice. His voice didn't matter, though. They could not arrest him until he had killed Vetinari, because Vetinari must have a murderer.

"I'm not arresting you for murder, Mr Jenkins." (1) The boy must have imagined that he was stupid. Neil would not be patronised. He was the man who would be remembered for purging the city of a tyrant.

"Don't you see? It's too late to change it now." If the boy understood he wouldn't try to fight the inevitable. "I have to kill him. The path of history has already been set." Dramatically, Neil pulled the wine from his bag and drank deeply. "I'm unstoppable now. The Patrician must be killed."

"Sir?" The man at the gate must have returned. "I think you're drunk. Maybe you should go home."

"How dare you patronise me? It is ordained that I will kill the Patrician. The wine has temporally displaced the effects of my actions and now the action must be fulfilled. It cannot be avoided. Vetinari must die." He briefly thought that he might indeed seem drunk, but his fury fuelled his purpose. He stepped forward warily, fairly certain that he was moving toward the gate. A moment later he felt warm hands closing around his wrists.

"You have been placed under arrest by an officer of the Watch, Mr Jenkins. Resisting arrest is a criminal offence." Neil's hands were nearly as cold as the handcuffs he felt. Perhaps it was not the lack of heat that made him flinch.

"What is causing this hold up?" It was Selachii's voice. It reminded Neil that the young man was mistaken in thinking the arrest could be successful. Vetinari's murder must go on.

"Lord Selachii," he said, "it appears that I am wanted at the Watch House, but I urgently need to see to the installation in your – the palace – offices first." He was pleased that the intentional slip had sounded so natural, but reminded himself that his success was inevitable. It should not surprise him that things worked his way.

"Well, I don't see the problem," Selachii said. "Captain, release him. He'll come with you once he's finished, I'm sure."

Three consecutive thuds marked what Neil assumed to be Selachii's guards leaving his carriage. As he felt the captain's hands on the handcuffs, Neil began to relax.

1 Jenkins knew this, and Carrot knew that Jenkins knew this, and Jenkins knew that Carrot knew that he knew this. Possibly Carrot also knew that Jenkins knew that he knew that Jenkins knew this. (2)

2 This fact was later used to support the theory that understanding your enemy is not nearly so useful as being stronger, richer or better connected than he.

A/N: Beta read by Virtuella.