Vimes looked around him. He walked a few aimless, exasperated steps. He spread his arms wide and then flopped them down by his sides.
'How should I know?' he said. 'Warn people, I guess. We'd better get over to the Patrician's palace. And then…'
There were footsteps in the fog. Vimes stiffened, put his finger to his lips and pulled Carrot into the shelter of a doorway.
A figure loomed out of the billows.
Another one of 'em, thought Vimes. Well, there's no law about wearing long black robes and deep cowls. There could be dozens of perfectly innocent reasons why this person is wearing long black robes and a deep cowl and standing in front of a melted-down house at dawn.
Perhaps I should ask him to name just one.
He stepped out.
'Excuse me, sir…' he began.
The cowl swung around. There was a hiss of indrawn breath.
'I just wonder if you would mind…After him, lance-constable!… ''
The figure had a good start. It scuttled along the street and had reached the corner before Vimes was halfway there. He skidded around it in time to see a shape vanish down an alley.
Vimes realized he was running alone. He panted to a halt and looked back just in time to see Carrot jog gently around the corner.
'What's wrong?' he wheezed.
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