'Is this one of those private dwarf things, captain?'

'Yes, sir—'

'Well, this is Ankh-Morpork, captain, not some mine in the mountains, and it's my job to keep the peace, and this, captain, doesn't look like it. What're people going to say about rioting in the streets?'

'They'll say it's another day in the life of the big city, sir,' said Carrot woodenly.

'Yes, I suppose they would, at that. However—' Vimes picked up a groaning dwarf. 'Who did this?' he demanded. 'I'm not in the mood for being messed around. Come on, I want a name!'

'Agi Hammerthief,' muttered the dwarf, struggling.

'All right,' said Vimes, letting him go. 'Write that down, Carrot.'

'No, sir,' said Carrot.

'Excuse me?'

'There is no Agi Hammerthief in the city, sir.'

'You know every dwarf?'

'A lot of them, sir. But Agi Hammerthief is only found down mines, sir. He's a sort of mischievous spirit, sir. For example, "Put it where Agi puts the coal," sir, means—'

'Yes, I can guess,' said Vimes. 'You're telling me that that dwarf just said this riot was started by Sweet Fanny Adams?' The dwarf had disappeared smartly around a corner.

'More or less, sir. Excuse me a moment, sir.' Carrot stepped across the street, pulling two white-painted paddles out of his belt. 'I'll just get a line of sight on a tower,' he said. 'I'd better send a clacks.'

'Why?'

'Well, we've kept the Patrician waiting, sir, so it'd be good manners to let him know we're late.'

Vimes pulled out his watch and stared at it. It was turning out to be one of those days... the sort that you got every day.

It is in the nature of the universe that the person who always keeps you waiting ten minutes will, on the day you are ten minutes tardy, have been ready ten minutes early and will make a point of not mentioning this.

'Sorry we're late, sir,' said Vimes as they entered the Oblong Office.

'Oh, are you late?' said Lord Vetinari, looking up from his paperwork. 'I really hadn't noticed. Nothing serious, I trust.'

'The Fools' Guild caught fire, sir,' said Carrot.

'Many casualties?'

'No, sir.'

'Well, that is a blessing,' said Lord Vetinari carefully. He put down his pen.

'Now... what do we have to discuss... ?' He pulled another document towards him and read it swiftly.

'Ah... I see that the new traffic division is having the desired effect.' He indicated a large pile of paper. 'I am getting any amount of complaints from the Carters' and Drovers' Guild. Well done. Do pass on my thanks to Sergeant Colon and his team.'

'I will, sir.'

'I see in one day they clamped seventeen carts, ten horses, eighteen oxen and one duck.'

'It was parked illegally, sir.'

'Indeed. However, a strange pattern seems to emerge.'

'Sir?'

'Many of the carters say that they were not in fact parked but had merely halted while an extremely old and extremely ugly lady crossed the road extremely slowly.'

'That's their story, sir.'

'They know she was an old lady by her constant litany on the lines of "Oh deary me, my poor old feet," and similar expressions.'

'Certainly sounds like an old lady to me, sir,' said Vimes, his face wooden.

'Quite so. What is rather strange is that several of them then report seeing the old lady subsequently legging it away along an alley rather fast. I'd discount this, of course, were it not for the fact that the lady has apparently been seen crossing another street, very slowly, some distance away shortly afterwards. Something of a mystery, Vimes.'

Vimes put his hand over his eyes. 'It's one I intend to solve quite quickly, sir.'

The Patrician nodded and made a short note on the list in front of him.

As he went to move it aside he uncovered a much grubbier, much-folded scrap of paper. He picked up two letter knives and, using them fastidiously, unfolded the paper and inched it across the desk towards Vimes.

'Do you know anything about this?' he said.

Vimes read, in large, round, crayoned letters:

DeEr Cur, The CruEL t to HOMLIss DoGs In thIs CITY Is A DIssGrays,

WaT arE The WaTCH Do Ing A BouT ITZ

SiNeD The LeAK AgyANsct CrUle T To DoGs.'

'Not a thing,' he said.

'My clerks say that one like it is pushed under the door most nights,' said the Patrician. 'Apparently no one is seen.'

'Do you want me to investigate?' said Vimes. 'It shouldn't be hard to find someone in this city who dribbles when he writes and spells even worse than Carrot.'

'Thank you, sir,' said Carrot.

'None of the guards report noticing anyone,' said the Patrician. 'Is there any group in Ankh-Morpork particularly interested in the welfare of dogs?'

'I doubt it, sir.'

'Then I shall ignore it pro tem,' said Vetinari. He let the soggy letter splash into the wastepaper basket.

'On to more pressing matters,' he said briskly. 'Now, then... What do you know about Bonk?'

Vimes stared.

There was a polite cough from Carrot. 'The river or the town, sir?' he said.

The Patrician smiled. 'Ah, captain, you have long ago ceased to surprise me. Yes, I was referring to the town.'

'It's one of the major towns in Uberwald, sir,' said Carrot. 'Exports: precious metals, leather, timber and of course fat from the deep fat mines at Schmaltzberg—'

'There's a place called Bonk?' said Vimes, still marvelling at the speed with which they'd got here from a damp letter about dogs.

'Strictly speaking, sir, it's more correctly pronounced Beyonk,' said Carrot.

'Even so—'

'And in Beyonk, sir, "Morpork" sounds exactly like their word for an item of ladies' underwear,' said Carrot. 'There's only so many syllables in the world, when you think about it.'

'How do you know all this stuff, Carrot?'

'Oh, you pick it up, sir. Here and there.'

'Really? So exactly which item of—'

'Something extremely important will be taking place there in a few weeks,' said Lord Vetinari. 'Something which, I have to add, is vital to the future prosperity of Ankh-Morpork.'

'The crowning of the Low King,' said Carrot.

Vimes stared from him to the Patrician, and back again.

'Is there some kind of circular that goes around which doesn't get as far as me?' he said.

'The dwarf community has been talking about little else for months, sir.'

'Really?' said Vimes. 'You mean the riots? Those fights every night in the dwarf bars?'

'Captain Carrot is correct, Vimes. It will be a grand occasion, attended by representatives of many governments. And from various Uberwald principalities, of course, because the Low King only rules those areas of Uberwald that are below ground. His favour is valuable. Borogravia and Genua will be there, without a doubt, and probably even Klatch.'

'Klatch? But they're even further from Uberwald than we are! What are they bothering to go for?'

He paused for a moment and then added: 'Hah. I'm being stupid. Where's the money?'

'I beg your pardon, commander?'

'That's what my old sergeant used to say when he was puzzled, sir. Find out where the money is and you've got it half solved.'

Vetinari stood up and walked over to the big window, with his back to them.

'A large country, Uberwald,' he said, apparently addressing the glass. 'Dark. Mysterious. Ancient...'

'Huge untapped reserves of coal and iron ore,' said Carrot. 'And fat, of course. The best candles, lamp oils and soap come ultimately from the Schmaltzberg deposits.'

'Why? We've got our own slaughterhouse, haven't we?'

'Ankh-Morpork uses a great many candles, sir.'

'It certainly doesn't use much soap,' said Vimes.