Vimes let it go at that. The man in question had just laid out three watchmen with a club, which Detritus had broken in one hand before selecting the suitably tactful wall.
"See you tomorrow, then. Best dress armour, remember. Send Angua now, please."
"She"s not here, sir."
"Blast. Put out some messages for her, will you?"
Igor lurched through the castle corridors, dragging one foot after the other in the approved fashion.
He was Igor, son of Igor, nephew of several Igors, brother of Igors and cousin of more Igors than he could remember without checking up in his diary. Igors did not change a winning formula.
And, as a clan, Igors liked working for vampires. Vampires kept regular hours, were generally polite to their servants and, an important extra, didn"t require much work in the bedmaking and cookery department, and tended to have cool, roomy cellars where an Igor could pursue his true calling. This more than made up for those occasions when you had to sweep up their ashes.
He entered Lady Margolotta"s crypt and knocked politely on the coffin lid. It moved aside a fraction.
"Yes?"
"Thorry to wake you in the middle of the afternoon, your ladythip, but you did thay - "
"All right. And - ?"
"It"s going to be Vimeth, ladythip."
A dainty hand came out of the partly opened coffin and punched the air.
"Yes!"
"Meth, ladythip."
"Vell, vell. Samuel Vimes. Poor devil. Do the doggies know?"
Igor nodded. "The Baron"th Igor wath altho collecting a methage, ladythip."
"And the dwarfs?"
"It ith an official appointment, ladythip. Everyone knowth. Hith Grathe the Duke of Ankh, Thir Thamuel Vimeth, Commander of the Ankh-Morpork Thity Watch."
"Then the midden has hit the windmill, Igor."
"Very well put, ladythip. No one liketh a thort thower of thit."
"I imagine, Igor, that he"ll leave them behind."
Let us consider a castle from the point of view of its furniture.
This one has chairs, yes, but they don"t look very lived in. There is a huge sofa near the fire, and that is ragged with use, but other furnishings look as if they"re there merely for show.
There is a long oak table, well polished and looking curiously unused for such an old piece of furniture. Possibly the reason for this is that. on the floor around it are a large number of white earthenware bowls.
One of them has "Father" written on it.
The Baroness Serafine von Uberwald slammed shut Twurp"s Peerage, irritably.
"The man is a... a nothing," she said. "A paper man. A man of straw. An insult."
"The name Vimes goes back a long time," said Wolfgang von Uberwald, who was doing one-handed press-ups in front of the fire.
"So does the name Smith. What of it?"