What he'd thought were carved stone busts were faces, made of wax. And Moist knew how and when they were made, too.
They were death masks.
'My predecessors,' said Vetinari, strolling down the line. 'Not a complete collection, of course. In some cases the head could not be found or was, as you might say, in a rather untidy state.'
There was a silence. Foolishly, Moist filled it.
'It must be strange, having them look down on you every day,' he managed.
'Oh, do you think so? I have to say I've rather looked down on them. Gross men, for the most part, greedy, venal and clumsy. Cunning can do duty for thought up to a point, and then you die. Most of them died rich, fat and terrified. They left the city the worse for their incumbency and the better for their death. But now the city works, Mr Lipwig. We progress. We would not do so if the ruler was the kind of man who would kill elderly ladies, do you understand?'
'I never said - '
'I know exactly what you never said. You refrained from saying it very loudly.' Vetinari raised an eyebrow. 'I am extremely angry, Mr Lipwig.'
'But I've been dropped right in it!'
'Not by me,' said Vetinari. 'I can assure you that if I had, as your ill-assumed street patois has it, "dropped you in it" you would fully understand all meanings of "drop" and have an unenviable knowledge of "it".'
'You know what I mean!'
'Dear me, is this the real Moist von Lipwig speaking, or is it just the man looking forward to his very nearly gold chain? Topsy Lavish knew she was going and simply changed her will. I salute her for it. The staff will accept you more easily, too. And she's done you a great favour.'
'Favour? I was shot at!'
'That was just the Assassins' Guild dropping you a note to say they are watching you.'
'There were two shots!'
'Possibly for emphasis?' said Vetinari, sitting down on a velvet-covered chair.
'Look, banking is supposed to be dull! Numbers, pensions, a job for life!'
'For life possibly, but apparently not for long,' said Vetinari, clearly enjoying this.
'Can't you do something?'
'About Cosmo Lavish? Why should I? Offering to buy a dog is not illegal.'
'But the whole family is - How did you know that? I didn't tell you!'
Vetinari waved a hand dismissively. 'Know the man, know the method. I know Cosmo. In this sort of situation he will not resort to force if money will work. He can be very personable when he wants to be.'
'But I've heard about the rest of them. They sound a pretty poisonous bunch.'
'I couldn't possibly comment. However, Topsy has helped you there. The Assassins' Guild won't take out a second contract on you. Conflict of interests, you see. I suppose technically they could accept a contract on the chairman, but I doubt if they will.
Killing a lap-dog? It would not look good on anyone's resume.'
'I didn't sign up to deal with something like this!'
'No, Mr Lipwig, you signed up to die,' snapped Vetinari, his voice suddenly as cold and deadly as a falling icicle. 'You signed up to be justly hanged by the neck until dead for crimes against the city, against the public good, against the trust of man for man. And you were resurrected, because the city required you to be. This is about the city, Mr Lipwig. It is always about the city. You know, of course, that I have plans?'
'It was in the Times. The Undertaking. You want to build roads and drains and streets under the city. There's some dwarf machine we've got hold of, called a Device. And the dwarfs can make waterproof tunnels. The Artificers' Guild are very excited about it all.'
'I gather by your sombre tones that you are not?'
Moist gave a shrug. Engines of any sort had never interested him. 'I don't think much about it one way or the other.'