Vimes spotted a tearful young woman in the main group and advanced carefully. 'Er... are you Mildred Easy?' he said.
She nodded. 'Who are you?' She took in the cut of his coat and added, 'sir?'
Was that old Mrs Easy who used to do dressmaking?' said Vimes, taking her gently aside.
That's right
'And the... smaller coffin?'
'That was our William¨C'
The girl looked as if she were about to cry again.
'Can we have a talk?' said Vimes. There are some things I hope you can tell me.'
He hated the way his mind worked. A proper human being would have shown respect and quietly walked away. But, as he'd stood among the chilly stones, a horrible apprehension had stolen over him that almost all the answers were in place now, if only he could work out the questions.
She looked around at the other mourners. They had reached the gate and were staring back curiously at the two of them.
'Er ... I know this isn't the right time,' said Vimes. 'But, when the kids play hopscotch in the street, what's the rhyme they sing? Salt, mustard, vinegar, pepper? , isn't it?'
She stared at his worried grin. That's a skipping rhyme,' she said coldly. 'When they play hopscotch they sing Billy Skunkins is a brass stud . Who are you?'
'I'm Commander Vimes of the Watch,' said Vimes. So ... Willy Scuggins would live on in the street, in disguise and in a fashion... And old Stoneface was just some guy on a bonfire...
Then her tears came.
'It's all right, it's all right,' said Vimes, as soothingly as he could. 'I was brought up in Cockbill Street, that's why I ... I mean I'm... I'm not here on ... I'm not out to ... look, I know you took food home from the palace. That's all right by me. I'm not here to ... oh, damn, would you like my handkerchief? I think your one's full.'
'Everyone does it!'
'Yes, I know.'
'Anyway, cook never says nothing ... She began to sob again.
'Yes, yes.'
'Everyone takes a few things,' said Mildred Easy. 'It's not like stealing.'
It is, thought Vimes treacherously. But I don't give a damn.
And now... he'd got a grip on the long copper rod and was climbing into a high place while the thunder muttered around him. The, er, the last food you sto - were given,' he said. 'What was it?'
'Just some blancmange and some, you know, that sort of jam made out of meat...'
'Pate?'
'Yes. I thought it would be a little treat...
Vimes nodded. Rich, mushy food. The sort you'd give to a baby who was peaky and to a granny who hadn't got any teeth.
Well, he was on the roof now, the clouds were black and threatening, and he might as well wave the lightning conductor. Time to ask...
The wrong question, as it proved.
Tell me,' he said, 'what did Mrs Easy die of?' ;You know it, sir?'
'Should do. I was born in that street,' said Vimes. 'It's down below the Shades. Easy... Easy... Yes ,...ow I remember. There was a Mrs Easy down the road. Skinny woman. Did a lot of sewing. Big family. Well, we were all big families, it was the only way to keep warm...'