The problem with best-laid plans is that reality often didn't bother to turn up to the planning meeting and had an agenda entirely its own. In this case, whilst Ponder Stibbons was busy taking pictures of a red-tailed cat, employees of the Times were high-tailing it to the far end of Treacle Mine Road where there were reports of a house having had a rather deadly make-over.

Dulling had tried, by all the Gods he had tried, to fight the book but it was simply too powerful. Part of the power was his very own strength, the harder he resisted the more the book could draw from him. It was broad daylight when he found himself outside 14, Treacle Mine Rd, heavy tome under one arm. He was compelled to knock on the door. Each knock felt like a nail being driven into his heart. He heard footsteps and presently an elderly gentleman opened the door a crack, a chain across preventing it from going any further. He eyeballed Dulling who was trembling and covered with a cold sweat.

"I tole those bleedin' hawkers I don't want none 'o their encyclyopeedyahs. I can't even bloody read for chuff's sakes. What's the point in writing fings down when yer can just say stuff eh?"

Dulling stood his ground, swaying slightly.

"Well go on then, bugger off wi' yer!"

Unfortunately that was when the senior citizen got his first and only reading lesson. Who says you can't teach an old sod new tricks?

###

Not long after that the Watch arrived at the crime scene although it was already crawling with reporters.

"I don't think we're going to need the clock," Vimes barked at Stibbons, frustrated that they were once again too late and one colourful step closer to oblivion. "Right, you vultures," he addressed the press, "clear out so we can get on with our jobs eh?"

"Not doing it that well at the moment though are you?" a reporter from the Ankh-Morpork Inquirer, one of the rivals to the Times, yelled from the back of the throng.

"Perhaps you'd like to discuss the matter further down at the station?" Vimes replied scathingly, "Because if any of you remain any longer than the next thirty seconds I'll have you all for breach of the peace."

Nobby and Fred meaningfully jangled their cuffs and the crowd started to take their leave.

The terraced house appeared to be made of night sky, an indigo stripe had shot from pavement to rooftop, blowing the door off its hinges, mercifully killing the single occupant instantly.

As more of the Watch arrived they and the team of Wizards were at least very efficient at tidying up. Whilst disappointed
Ponder was not downhearted, "We know at least that we can find the location by using the Pictsie. That part worked. We should waste no time in finding the next location and then placing the clock."

Vimes had to agree and thirty minutes later they were fitting a clock to the wall at the centre of Chrononhotonthologos Street. There were no major problems* and the second part of the plan also appeared to work. In the pictures the street was clear at seven forty five pm tomorrow night, then at seven forty seven it was entirely violet.

*Apart from the difficulty pronouncing the street name.

###

Otto arrived at the shop just as it was closing, carrying a new fold-down kitchen table. "I brought zer table, if you don't mind makink zer dinner," he teased.

Later when they sat together to eat he had something rather important to tell her, "Lily, zer Vatch know vot has happened to Mr Dullink."

She put down her fork, "Where is he? Is he alright?"

Otto sighed, there was no good way to say it, "He is viz zer book. Like Dazzle voz."

Tears sprang into Lily's eyes, "The book is making him kill all those people?" She put her hand to her mouth and began to cry, great big sobs. Otto knelt by her side and pulled her to him.

"He is fightink it. He varned people remember? He is still our Mr Dullink, perhaps zere is a chance?" but in his heart of hearts he felt they had lost him.

As Lily dried her tears and sniffled, a look of resolve settled on her features, "We need more than a chance, Otto. We need a racing certainty and we're going to make it happen. Call the goblins. Team Pictsie has work to do."