Jingo

…and Fred Colon, all perspiration with a hint of beer, and then the odd ointment Nobby used for his skin condition, and the smells of feet, bodies, clothes, polish, fingernails…

After an hour it was possible for the eye of the nose to see someone walk across the room, frozen in time by their smell. But after a day smells criss-crossed and entangled. You had to take them apart, remove the familiar pieces, and what you had left

“They're so mixed up!”

“All right, all right,” said Carrot soothingly.

“At least three people! But I think one of them is Ossie… It's stronger round the bed… and…”

She opened her eyes wide and looked down at the floor. “Somewhere here!”

“What? What is?”

Angua crouched down with her nose just above the floorboards.

“I can smell it but I can't see it!”

A knife appeared in front of her. Carrot got down on his knees and ran the blade along the dust-filled crack between the floorboards.

Something splintery and brown popped up. It had been trodden on and rolled underfoot, but at this distance even Carrot could pick up traces of the clove smell. “Do you think Ossie made a lot of apple pies?” he whispered.

“No cookin', remember?” said Angua, and grinned.

“There's something else…”

Carrot levered out more dirt and dust. In it, something glittered. “Fred said all the glass was outside, didn't he?”

“Yes.”

“Well, supposing we assume that someone didn't pick up all the bits when they broke in?”

“For someone that doesn't like lying, Carrot, you can be quite devious, you know?”

“Just logical. There's glass outside the window, but all that means is that there is glass outside the window. Commander Vimes always says there're no such things as dues. It's how you look at them.”

“You think someone broke in and then carefully put the glass outside?”

“Could be.”

“Carrot? Why are we whispering?”

“No wimmin, remember?”

“And no pets,” said Angua. “So she's got me coming and going. Don't look like that,” she added, when she saw his face. “It's only bad taste if someone else says it. I'm allowed.”

Carrot scratched up some more glass fragments. Angua looked under the bed and pulled out the battered magazines.

“Ye gods, do people really read this stuff?” she said, flicking through Bows and Ammo. “‘Testing the Locksley Reflex 7: A Whole Lotta Bow’… ‘Footsore! We test the Ten Best Caltrops!’… and what's this magazine…? Warrior of Fortune?”

“There's always little wars somewhere,” said Carrot, pulling out the box of money.

“But will you look at the size of this axe here? ‘Get A Head, Get A Burleigh and Stronginthearm “Streetsweeper” and Win By A Neck!’ Well, it must be true what they say about men who like big weapons…”

“And that is?” said carrot, lifting the lid of the box.

She looked at the top of his head. As always, Carrot radiated innocence like a small sun. But he'd… They'd… Surely he…

“They, er… they're rather small,” she said.

“Oh, that's true,” said Carrot, picking up some of the Klatchian coins. “Look at dwarfs. Never happier than with a chopper the same size as them. And Nobby's fascinated by weapons and he's practically dwarfsized.”

“Er…”

Technically, Angua was sure she knew Carrot better than anyone else. She was pretty sure he cared a lot for her. He seldom said so, he just assumed that she knew. She'd known other men, although turning into a wolf for part of the month was one of those little flaws that could put any normal man off and, up until Carrot, always had. And she knew the sort of things men said in what might be called the heat of the moment and then forgot. But when Carrot said things, you knew that he felt that everything was now settled until further notice, so if she made any comment he'd be genuinely surprised that she'd forgotten what it was he had said and would probably quote date and time.

And yet all the time there was this feeling that the greater part of him was always deep, deep inside, looking out. No one could be so simple, no one could be so creatively dumb, without being very intelligent. It was like being an actor. Only a very good actor was any good at being a bad actor.

“Rather a lonely person, our Nobby,” said Carrot.

“Well, yes…”

“But Im sure he'll find the right person for him,” Carrot added, cheerfully.

Probably in a bottle, said Angua to herself. She remembered the conversation with him. It was a terrible thing to think, but there was somethin itchy about the thought of Nobby being allowed in pool, even at the shallow end.

“You know, these coins are odd,” said Carrot.

“How do you mean?” said Angua, grateful for the distraction.