Feet of Clay (Discworld 19) - Page 151

'We're missing something here, Littlebottom,' he said.

'Yes, sir.'

'Let's look at the facts. If you want to poison someone slowly you've either got to give them small doses all the time - or, at least, every day. We've covered everything the Patrician does. It can't be the air in the room. You and I have been in there every day. It's not the food, we're pretty sure of that. Is something stinging him? Can you poison a wasp? What we need - '

''scuse me, sir.'

Vimes turned.

'Detritus? I thought you were off-duty?'

'I got dem to give me der address of dat maid called Easy like you said,' said Detritus, stoically. 'I went up dere and dere was people all lookin' in.'

'What d'you mean?'

'Neighbours and dat. Cryin' women all round der door. An' I remember what you said about dat dipplo word - '

'Diplomacy,' said Vimes.

'Yeah. Not shoutin' at people an' dat. I fought, dis look a delicate situation. Also, dey was throwin' stuff at me. So I came back here. I writ down der address. An' now I'm goin' home.' He saluted, rocked slightly from the force of the blow to the side of his head, and departed.

'Thanks, Detritus,' said Vimes. He looked at the paper written in the troll's big round hand.

'ist Floor Back, 27 Cockbill Street,' he said. 'Good grief!' ;I told you not to do that, didn't I?' Stronginthearm shouted above the din.

The golem held up its slate.

YES.

'You've gone and done all your holy day stuff? You were away too long!'

SORROW.

'Well, now you're back with us, go and take over on Number Three hammer and send Mr Vincent up to my office, right?'

YES.

Stronginthearm climbed the stairs to his office. He turned at the top to look back across the red-lit foundry floor. He saw Dibbuk walk over to the hammer and hold up a slate for the foreman. He saw Vincent the foreman walk away. He saw Dibbuk take the sword-blank that was being shaped and hold it in place for a few blows, then hurl it aside.

Stronginthearm hurried back down the steps.

When he was half-way down Dibbuk had laid his head on the anvil.

When Stronginthearm reached the bottom the hammer struck for the first time.

When he was half-way across the ash-crusted floor, other workers scurrying after him, the hammer struck for the second time.

As he reached Dibbuk the hammer struck for the third time.

The glow faded in the golem's eyes. A crack appeared across the impassive face.

The hammer went back up for the fourth time -

'Duck!' screamed Stronginthearm -

- and then there was nothing but pottery.

When the thunder had died away, the foundry master got to his feet and brushed himself off. Dust and wreckage were strewn across the floor. The hammer had jumped its bearings and was lying by the anvil in a heap of golem shards.

Tags: Terry Pratchett Discworld Fantasy
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