'All we're owed, plus another fifty thousand.'
'But you haven't found the dog.'
'Nor have the Watch. And they've got a werewolf. Everyone's looking for the dog. The dog's gone. But that doesn't matter. This little box matters.'
'That is very little in the way of evidence
'Really? You asking us about the dog? Talking about killers? I reckon that Vimes character will niggle away at something like that. He doesn't sound like the sort to let things go.' Mr Pin smiled humourlessly. 'You've got stuff on us but, well, between you and me,' he leaned closer, 'some of the things we've done might be considered, well, tantamount to crimes--'
'All them --ing murders, for a start,' said Mr Tulip, nodding.
'Which, since we are criminals, could be called typical behaviour. Whereas,' Pin went on, 'you're a respectable citizen. Doesn't look good, respectable citizens getting involved in this sort of thing. People talk.'
'To save... misunderstandings,' said Mr Slant, 'I will do you a draft of--'
'Jewels,' said Mr Pin.
'We like jewels,' said Mr Tulip.
'You have made copies of that... thing?' said Slant.
'I'm not saying anything,' said Mr Pin, who hadn't and didn't even know how. But he took the view that Mr Slant was in no position to be other than cautious, and it looked as though Mr Slant thought so too.
'I wonder if I can trust you?' said Mr Slant, as if to himself.
'Well, you see, it's like this,' said Mr Pin, as patiently as he could. His head was feeling worse. 'If news got around that we'd shopped a client, that wouldn't be good. People would say, you can't trust a person of that kind of ilk. They do not know how to behave. But if the people we deal with heard we'd scragged a client because the client had not played fair, then they would say to themselves, these are businessmen. They are businesslike. They do business
He stopped and looked at the shadows in the corner of the room.
'And?' said Mr Slant.
'And... and... the hell with this,' said Mr Pin, blinking and shaking his head. 'Give us the jewels, Slant, or Mr Tulip'll do the asking, understand? We're getting out of here, with your damn dwarfs and vampires and trolls and dead men walking. This city gives me the creeps! So give me the diamonds! Right now!'
'Very well,' said Mr Slant. 'And the imp?'
'It goes with us. We get caught, it gets caught. We die mysteriously, then... some people find out about things. When we are safely away... you're in no position to argue, Slant.' Mr Pin shuddered. 1 am not having a good day!'
Mr Slant pulled open a desk drawer and tossed three small velvet bags on to the leather top. Mr Pin mopped his brow with a handkerchief.
'Take a look at 'em, Mr Tulip.'
There was a pause while both men watched Mr Tulip pour the gems into one enormous palm. He scrutinized several through an eyeglass. He sniffed at them. He gingerly licked one or two.
Then he picked four out of the heap and tossed them back to the lawyer.
'You think I'm some kind of a --ing idiot?' he said.
'Don't even think of arguing,' said Mr Pin.
'Perhaps the jewellers made a mistake,' said Mr Slant.
'Yeah?' said Mr Pin. His hand darted into his jacket again, but this time came out holding a weapon.
Mr Slant looked into the muzzle of a spring-gonne. It was technically and legally a crossbow, in that human strength compressed the spring, but it had been reduced by patient technology to a point where it was more or less a pipe with a handle and a trigger. Anyone caught with one by the Assassins' Guild, it was rumoured, would find its ability to be hidden on the human body tested to extremes; any city watch that found one used against them would see to it that the offender's feet did not touch the ground but instead swung gently as the breeze pushed them around.
There must have been a switch in this desk, too. A door flew open and two men burst in, one armed with two long knives, one with a crossbow.
It was quite horrible, what Mr Tulip did to them.