Deep Bone sounded hurt. That's kosher news, that is. It'd worry certain people if you put that in your paper.'
'Yes, they'd worry that I'd gone mad! You've got to tell me something better than that! Can you give me a description?'
Deep Bone went silent for a while, and when the voice spoke again it sounded uncertain. 'You mean, what he looked like?' it said.
'Well, yes!'
'Ah... well, it dunt work like that with dogs, see? What w-- what your average dog does, basic'ly, is look up. People are mostly just a wall with-a pair of nostril holes at the top, is my point.'
'Not a lot of help, then,' said William. 'Sorry we can't do busin--'
'What he smells like, now, that's somethin' else,' said the voice of Deep Bone, hurriedly.
'All right, tell me what he smells like.'
'Do I see a pile of cash in front of me? I don't think so.'
'Well, Mr Bone, I'm not even going to think about getting that kind of money together until I've got some proof that you really know something.'
'All right,' said the voice from the shadows after a while. 'You know there's a Committee to Unelect the Patrician? Now that's news.'
'What's new about that? People have plotted to get rid of him for years.'
There was another pause.
'Y'know,' said Deep Bone, 'it'd save a lot of trouble if you just gave me the money and I told you everything.'
'So far you haven't told me anything. Tell me everything, and then I'll pay you, if it's the truth.'
'Oh, yes, pull one of the others, it's got bells on!'
Then it looks like we can't do business,' said William, putting his notebook away.
'Wait, wait... this'll do. You ask Vimes what Vetinari did just before the attack.'
'Why, what did he do?'
'See if you can find out.'
That's not a lot to go on.'
There was no reply. William thought he heard a shuffling noise.
'Hello?'
He waited a moment and then very carefully stepped forward.
In the gloom a few horses turned to look at him. Of an invisible informant there was no sign.
A lot of thoughts jostled for space in his mind as he headed out into the daylight, but surprisingly enough it was a small and theoretically unimportant one that kept oozing into centre stage. What kind of expression was 'pull one of the others, it's got bells on'? Now, 'pull the other one, it's got bells on', he'd heard of - it stemmed from the days of a crueller than usual ruler in Ankh-Morpork who had had any Morris dancers ritually tortured. But 'one of the others'... where was the sense in that?
Then it struck him.
Deep Bone must be a foreigner. It made sense. It was like the way Otto spoke perfectly good Morporkian but hadn't got the hang of colloquialisms.
He made a note of this.
He smelled the smoke at the same time as he heard the pottery clatter of golem feet. Four of the clay people thudded past him, carrying a long ladder. Without thinking he fell in behind, automatically turning to a new page in his notebook.