Chapter 13 - An Unfolding of Events

"Havelock, I insist that you have that watchman release my gold!" Lord Rust mustered all the injured dignity he could muster which was, considering his age and conceit, rather a large amount, and placed his hands on the edge of Vetinari's desk. The Patrician for his part merely raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at the hands in question, until Rust finally removed them and began pacing, still muttering, "It's scandalous. For over a week, he has kept it locked in his cells, as if my gold itself were some sort of miscreant, claiming it is part of a 'crime scene'." Rust stopped and again fixed his watery glare on Vetinari before allowing the hint of a smug smile to show through. "What will it be next, eh? Will that buffoon arrest the residence on King's Way as well?" He chuckled inwardly at his own fathomless[1] humor.

Vetinari frowned a moment. "Indeed. All matters considered, my Lord Rust, I do not recommend you suggest that to Commander Vimes." Vetinari picked up an apparently blank piece of paper from his desk and seemed pointedly interested in it, while noting with some satisfaction a slight increase in foam at the corner of Rust's mouth at the mere mention of Vimes' name. "And I especially do not suggest mentioning the idea within range of Captain Carrot's hearing." He set the paper back on his desk. "The Captain tends to have a somewhat linear manner of thinking. You are aware that early in his career, he actually attempted to arrest a brick wall for assault[2]?"

Lord Rust shook his head. "I don't have time for silliness, Havelock. Nor will I be distracted. I demand the return of my gold!"

"You… demand." Vetinari sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers in front of his mouth. Seconds stretched into aeons as Rust began to realize, with the pace and inevitability of an iceberg drifting into a suddenly uncomfortably warm ocean, that he might have overstepped somewhat. Clearing his throat, he continued in a quieter voice. "Well… it is my gold, Havelock. Surely he can't keep it forever."

"Of course not, My Lord. It is, of course, inevitable that the gold eventually be placed in your possession, especially considering the prior claimant appears to no longer be among the living. Ah, Drumknott."

Rust would have sworn that Vetinari spoke the name before the door opened and the secretary in question entered the room. Gliding softly and quietly to the Patrician's side, in the manner of all hypercompetent assistants the universe over, he placed a rather thick folder on Vetinari's desk and quietly whispered a few words in his ear.

"Ah. Thank you Drumknott." Vetinari smiled. Had there been a cat in the room and an unexplained absence of canaries, you would have seen a very similar expression on the feline's face. "It appears, my Lord Rust, that in this one particular, the situation is suddenly much less clear."

Rust stiffened. "Impossible Havelock. The residence is my property and has been for some time. The flagstones are mine as well, installed by tradesmen that I hired. And as you say, the prior pretender-"

"Ah, but you see, it appears that there is another credible claimant, after all. I have only now received word from Commander Vimes," Rust's mouth worked for a moment, and Vetinari noted the foam production seemed to ramp up slightly, "that the late Lady LeJean has been discovered to be, in fact, not."

Rust's hands spasmed. "Not? Not what?"

"Not late, it appears. He opened the folder in front of him, scanning over the scrawled and frankly illegible handwriting on the top sheet. "It seems Lady LeJean visited Pseudopolis Yard only today, and personally inspected what she still considers her property. The gold I assume, not the flagstone which is, I am sure, still indisputably yours."

Rust rocked backward as if struck. "This… this…" he turned and staggered slightly in a circuit about the room, muttering again and cranking the spittle production up to eleven, before halting in front of the desk again. "This is a travesty!" Vetinari leaned to the side slightly, smoothly avoiding a slight spray of saliva in the process. Drumknott, however was not quite so lucky. "A… a miscarriage! A… A…"

"An insult upon your person, My Lord?" Vetinari arched an eyebrow as he supplied helpfully.

"Yes! That as well! No! It's worse than that. It is an insult upon reason!"

"Well then. I would suggest you lodge a protest with Commander Vimes." Rust began turning colors. Good lord, was the man going to suffer a stroke? Vetinari turned back to his paperwork. "I'm sure it would be to your advantage to do so, without delay."

Rust, apparently not taking the hint, or past caring, remained standing. "You will be hearing from Slant, Havelock. Mark my words."

Vetinari sighed without looking up. "With what, pray?"

"What? What?"

Raising his head, Vetinari fixed Rust with a blank look. "With what should I mark them?"

Rust was beyond subtlety, even moreso than usual. He merely stood still, adding to the increasing salival-foam content of the room, looking both confused and angry.

"Lord Rust, we are, to my regret, a city of laws." He frowned, then qualified the statement. "At least on balance, with the remainder of our functionality appearing to run on some form of inertial sloth. I cannot simply wave my hands and release the gold into your custody." Drumknott again leaned over Vetinari's shoulder and whispered briefly. "Ah. It appears in fact that I could. But it would, I'm sure you would agree, set a dangerous precedent."

This calmed Rust slightly. Power he understood, but choosing not to exercise it was a talent he found himself too old to learn. "Bah. In what way?"

"For one, it is probably a violation of some fundamental law of government for gold to move from its own custody, albeit temporary, to that of a citizen without a significant amount of legal wrangling. Most likely, we would all be sued for insufficientia locupletare gildam attornatos.[3] For another, I look forward to watching events unfold, just as I look forward to the space you currently occupy becoming immediately vacant."

Rust stood for a few seconds, trying to wrap his mind around a meeting that had not gone at all according to plan. "But…"

"That was goodbye, Lord Rust. I would not wish to detain you."

As the door closed behind Rust and Drumknott, Vetinari stood and walked to the window. Events would, he was sure, unfold rather more quickly now. Especially when Vimes received the instructions, sent less than an hour before, to escort Lady LeJean to the Palace for some… consultations.

Vetinari smiled. Very interesting, indeed, especially considering the folder on his desk. A folder which contained, in part, information on every noble family in Genua… which included an absolute lack of anyone by the name of LeJean, Lady or otherwise.

[1] Or perhaps bottomless is a better word? Lacking in bottom? Sad really, isn't it?

[2] To be fair, the wall had in fact dropped a large number of bricks on one of his fellow watchmen. It was only after determining that then-constable Detritus had in fact punched the wall first that Carrot was convinced it might have been self-defense.

[3] Roughly translated, cheating the Guild of Attorneys out of a very lucrative contract by giving in too easily.