Moist ran downstairs and Lord Vetinari was indeed sitting in the Blind Letter Office[2] with his boots on a desk, a sheaf of letters in his hand and a smile on his face.
'Ah, Lipwig,' he said, waving the grubby envelopes. 'Wonderful stuff! Better than the crossword! I like this one: "Duzbuns Hopsit pfarmerrsc". I've put the correct address underneath.' He passed the letter over to Moist.
He had written: K. Whistler, Baker, 3 Pigsty Hill.
'There are three bakeries in the city that could be said to be opposite a pharmacy,' said Vetinari, 'but Whistler does those rather good curly buns that regrettably look as though a dog has just done his business on your plate and somehow managed to add a blob of icing.'
'Well done, sir,' said Moist weakly.
At the other end of the room Frank and Dave, who spent their time deciphering the illegible, misspelled, misdirected or simply insane mail that sleeted through the Blind Letter Office every day, were watching Vetinari in shock and awe. In the corner, Drumknott appeared to be brewing tea.
'I think it is just a matter of getting into the mind of the writer,' Vetinari went on, looking at a letter covered with grubby fingerprints and what looked like the remains of someone's breakfast. He added: 'In some cases, I imagine, there is a lot of room.'
'Frank and Dave manage to sort out five out of every six,' said Moist.
'They are veritable magicians,' said Vetinari. He turned to the men, who smiled nervously and backed away, leaving the smiles hanging awkwardly in the air, as protection. He added: 'But I think it is time for their tea break?'
The two looked at Drumknott, who was pouring tea into two cups.
'Somewhere else?' Vetinari suggested.
No express delivery had ever moved faster than Frank and Dave. When the door had shut behind them, Vetinari went on: 'You have looked round the bank? Your conclusions?'
'I think I'd rather stick my thumb in a mincing machine than get involved with the Lavish family,' said Moist. 'Oh, I could probably do things with it, and the Mint needs a good shaking. But the bank needs to be run by someone who understands banks.'
'People who understand banks got it into the position it is in now,' said Vetinari. 'And I did not become ruler of Ankh-Morpork by understanding the city. Like banking, the city is depressingly easy to understand. I have remained ruler by getting the city to understand me.'
'I understood you, sir, when you said something about angels, remember? Well, it worked. I am a reformed character and I will act like one.'
'Even as far as the gold-ish chain?' said Vetinari, as Drumknott handed him a cup of tea.
'Damn right!'
'Mrs Lavish was very impressed with you.'
'She said I was an out-and-out crook!'
'High praise indeed, coming from Topsy,' said Vetinari. He sighed. 'Well, I can't force such a reformed person as you to - ' He paused as Drumknott leaned down to whisper in his ear, and then continued: ' - well, clearly I can force you, but on this occasion I don't think I will. Drumknott, take this down, please. "I, Moist von Lipwig, wish to make it clear that I have no desire or intention to run or be involved in the running of any bank in Ankh-Morpork, preferring instead to devote my energies to the further improvement of the Post Office and the clacks system." Leave a space for Mr Lipwig's signature and the date. And then - '
'Look, why is this necessary - ' Moist began.
' - continue: "I, Havelock Vetinari, etc., confirm that I have indeed discussed the future of the Ankh-Morpork banking system with Mr Lipwig and fully accept his express wish to continue his fine work at the Post Office, freely and without hindrance or penalty." Space for signature, etc. Thank you, Drumknott.'
'What is all that about?' said Moist, bewildered.
'The Times seems to think I intend to nationalize the Royal Bank,' said Vetinari.
'Nationalize?' said Moist.
'Steal,' Vetinari translated. 'I don't know how these rumours get about.'
'I suppose even tyrants have enemies?' said Moist.
'Well put as usual, Mr Lipwig,' said Vetinari, giving him a sharp look. 'Give him the memorandum to sign, Drumknott.'
Drumknott did so, taking care to retrieve the pencil afterwards with a rather smug look. Then Vetinari stood up and brushed off his robe.
'I well recall our interesting conversation about angels, Mr Lipwig, and I recall telling you that you only get one,' he said, a little stiffly. 'Do bear that in mind.'