many officers would have noticed how deeply that arrow went into the floor?'
'That's unfortunately true.'
'And he spotted Igor's second thumb, and hardly anyone else has noticed the swimming potatoes.'
'Igor hasn't got rid of them yet?'
'Noi sir. He believes that instant fish and chips are only a generation away.'
Vimes sighed. 'All right, sergeant. Forget the potatoes. What are the odds?'
'Sir?'
'I know what goes on in the duty room. They wouldn't be watchmen if someone wasn't running a book.'
'On Mr de Worde?'
'Yes.'
'Well... six'll get you ten that he'll be dead by next Monday, sir.'
'You might just spread the word that I don't like that sort of thing, will you?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Find out who's running the book, and when you have found out that it is Nobby, take it off him.'
'Right, sir. And Mr de Worde?'
Vimes stared at the ceiling. 'How many officers are watching him?' he said.
'Two.'
'Nobby's usually good at judging odds. Think that'll be enough?'
'No.'
'Me neither. But we're stretched. He's going to have to learn the hard way. And the trouble with the hard way is you only get one lesson.'
Mr Tulip emerged from the alleyway where he had just negotiated the purchase of a very small packet of what would shortly prove to be rat poison cut with powdered washing crystals.
He found Mr Pin reading a large piece of paper. 'What's that?' he said.
"Trouble, I expect,' said Mr Pin, folding it up and putting it in his pocket. 'Yes, indeed.'
This city is getting on my --ing nerves,' said Mr Tulip, as they continued down the street. 'I got a --ing headache. And my leg hurts,'
'So? It bit me, too. You made a big mistake with that dog,' 'Are you saying I shouldn't've shot at it?' 'No, I'm saying you shouldn't've missed. It got away,' 'It's only a dog,' Mr Tulip grumbled. 'What's such a problem about a dog? It's not like it's a reliable --ing witness. They never told us about no --ing dog,' His ankle was beginning to get that hot, dark sensation that suggested that someone hadn't been brushing their teeth lately. 'You just try carrying a guy with a --ing dog snapping at your legs! And how come the --ing zombie never told us the guy was so --ing fasti If he hadn't been staring at the geek he'd have --ing gotmel'
Mr Pin shrugged. But he'd made a note of that. Mr Slant had failed to tell the New Firm quite a lot of things, and one of them was that Vetinari moved like a snake.
This was going to cost the lawyer a lot of money. Mr Pin had nearly got cut.
But he was proud of stabbing the clerk and shoving Charlie out on the landing to babble to the stupid servants. That hadn't been in the script. That was the kind of service you got from the New Firm. He snapped his fingers as he walked. Yeah! They could react, they could extemporize, they could get creative... 'Excuse me, gentlemen?'
A figure had stepped out of the alleyway ahead of them, a knife in each hand.
'Thieves' Guild,' it said. 'Excuse me? This is an official robbery,' To the surprise of the thief, Mr Pin and Mr Tulip seemed neither shocked nor frightened, despite the size of the knives. Instead they looked like a pair of lepidopterists who'd stumbled across an entirely new kind of butterfly and found it trying to wave a tiny little net.