I bet you are, Vimes thought. I have to obey rules. `Why should you care who kills a dwarf?' he said.

`Mister Vimes! I am a honest citizen! It my public duty to care!' Chrysoprase watched Vimes's face to see how this was playing, and grinned. `All this stoopid Koom Valley t'ing is bad for business. People are gettin' edgy, pokin' around, askin' questions. I am sittin' dere gettin' nervous. An' den I hear my of friend Mister Vimes is on der case and I am thinkin, that Mister Vimes, he may be very insensitive to the nu-unces of troll culture some times, but der man is straight as a arrow and dere are on him no flies. He will see where dis so-called troll left his club behind an' he is laughin' his head off, it is so see-through like glass! Some dwarf did it an' want to make der trolls look bad, Kew Eee Dee.' He sat back.

`What club?' said Vimes quietly.

`What's dat?'

`I haven't mentioned a club. There was nothing in the paper about a troll club.'

`Dear Mister Vimes, dat's what der lawn ornaments is sayin',' said Chrysoprase.

`And dwarfs talk to you, do they?' said Vimes.

The troll looked thoughtfully at the roof, and blew out more smoke. `Eventually,' he said. `But dat's jus' detail. Jus' between you an' me, here an' now. We unnerstan' dese t'ings. It is clear as anyt'ing dat der crazy dwarfs had a fight, or der of dwarf died o' bein' alive too long, or-'

`-or you asked him a few questions?'

`No callin' for dat, Mister Vimes. Dat club is nothin' but a red dried swimmin' t'ing. Der dwarfs put it dere.

`Or a troll did the murder, dropped his club and ran,' said Vimes. `Or he was clever, and thought: no one would believe a troll would be so stupid as to leave his club so if I do leave it, the dwarfs will get the blame.'

`Hey, good job it so cold in here or I wouldn't be followin' you!' laughed Chrysoprase. `But den I ask, a troll gets into a nest o' dem lousy deep-downers and lays out jus' one? No way, Jose, eh? He'd whack as many of 'em as he could, thud, thud!'

He looked at Vimes's puzzlement and sighed.

`See, any troll gettin' in dere, he'd be a mad troll to start with. You know how der kids are all wound up? People bin feeding dem that honour an' glory an' destiny stuff, that coprolite rots your brain faster'n Slab, faster even than Slide. From what I am hearin, the dwarf got knocked off for-rensic, all slick an' quiet. We don't do dat, Mister Vimes. You played der game, you know it. Get a troll in der middle o' a load of dwarfs, he is like a fox in der....em fings wi' wings, layin' dem egg fings . .

`Fox in a henhouse?'

`Dat's der- You know, fur, big ears-'

`Bunny?'

`Right! Bash one dwarf an' sneak out? No troll'd stop at one, Mister Vimes. It's like you people an' peanuts. Der game got dat right.'

`What's this game?'

`You never played Thud?' Chrysoprase looked surprised.

`Oh, that. I don't play games,' said Vimes. `And on the subject of Slab, you do run the biggest pipeline. Just between you and me, here and now.'

'Nah, I'm out o' dat whole t'ing,' said Chrysoprase, waving his cigar dismissively. `You could say I am seein' der error o' my ways. From now on it's clean livin' straight down der middle. Property an' financial services, dat is der way forward.'

`Glad to hear it.'

`Besides, der kids are movin' in,' Chrysoprase went on. 'Sediment'ry trash. And dey cuts Slab wi' bad sulphides an' cooks it up wi' ferric chloride an' crap like dat. You thought Slab was bad? You wait till you see Slide. Slab makes a troll go an' sit down to watch all der pretty colours, be no trouble to no one, nice and quiet. But Slide make him feel like him der biggest, strongest troll in der worl', don't need sleep, don't need food. After a few weeks, don't need life. Dat ain't for me.'

`Yes, why kill your customers?' said Vimes.

`Low blow, Mister Vimes, low blow. Nah, der new kids, half der time dey on Slide theyselves. Too much fightin', too much of no respec'.' He narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. `I know names an' places:

`It's your duty as a good citizen to tell me, then,' said Vimes. Ye gods, what does he think I am? But I want those names. Slide sounds nasty. Right now we need battle-crazy trolls like we need a hole in the head, which we'll probably end up getting.

`Can't tell you. Dat der problem,' said Chrysoprase. `This ain't der time. You know what's happenin' out dere. If der stupid dwarfs want to fight we'll need every troll. Dat's what I sayin'. I tellin' my people, give Vimes a chance. Be good citizens, not rockin' around der boat. People still listenin' to me an' my ... associates. But not for much longer. I hope you on der case, Mister Vimes?'

`Captain Carrot is investigating right now,' said Vimes.

Chrysoprase's eyes narrowed again. `Carrot Ironfoundersson?' he said. `Der big dwarf? He a lovely boy, bright as a button, but to trolls dat won't look so good, I tell you flat.'

`It doesn't look that good to dwarfs, if it comes to that,' said Vimes. `But it's my Watch. I'll not be told who I put on what case.'

`You trust him?' said Chrysoprase.

`Yes!'

`Okay, he a finker, he shiny. But ... Ironfoundersson? Dwarf name. Dat a problem right dere. But der name Vimes ... Dat name means a lot. Can't be bribed, he once arrested the Patrician, not der sharpest knife in the drawer but honest like anyt'ing and he don't stop diggin'.' Chrysoprase caught Vimes's expression. `Dat's what dey say. I wishin' Vimes was on dis case, 'cos him like me, bareknuckle boy, he get at der truth soon enough. And to him I say: no troll did dat t'ing, not like dat.

Forget that he's talking street troll, Vimes told himself. That's just to seem like a good ol troll. This is Chrysoprase. He beat out most of the old-style mobsters, who were pretty sharp players themselves, and he holds off the Thieves' Guild with one hand. And that's without sitting in a pile of snow. You know he's right. But ... not the sharpest knife in the drawer? Thank you so very much!

But Captain Carrot was shiny, was he? Vimes's mind always looked for connections, and came up with: `Who is Mr Shine?'

Chrysoprase was absolutely still, the only motion the greenish smoke spiralling up from the cigar. Then, when he spoke, his air was uncharacteristically jovial.

`Him? Oh, a story for kids. Kinda like a troll legend from der faroff days o' long ahead,' he said. [1]

`Like a folk hero?'

`Yeah, that kinda t'ing. Kinda silly t'ing people talk about when times is tricky. Just a willie der wisp, not real. Dis is modern times.'

[1] Troll lore says that living creatures actually move backwards through time. It's complicated.

And that seemed to be that.

Vimes stood up. `All right, I've heard what you say,' he said. `And now I've got a Watch to run.'

Chrysoprase puffed his cigar and flicked the ash into the frost, where it sizzled. `You goin' back to der Watch House by way o' Turn Again Lane?' he said.

`No, that's well out of-' Vimes stopped. There had been a hint of suggestion in the troll's voice.

`Give my regard to der of lady at next door to der cake shop,' said the troll.

`Er, I will, will I?' said Vimes, nonplussed. `Sergeant!'

The door at the far end opened with a bang and Detritus ran in, crossbow at the ready. Vimes, aware that one of the troll's few faults was an inability to understand all the implications of the term `safety catch, fought down a dreadful urge to dive for the ground.

`Time's comin' when we all got to know where we standin',' mused Chrysoprase, as if talking to the audience of ghostly pork. `An' who is standin' next to us.'

As Vimes headed for the door the troll added: `Give der coat to your lady, Mister Vimes. Wi' my compliments.'