The Truth

'And if we got an iconograph and learned how to use it to take pictures,' William went on, ignoring this, 'could he engrave the picture that the imp paints?'

'I suppose so.'

'And do you know any good iconographers in the city?'

'I could ask around. What happened to you?'

'Oh, there was a threatened suicide in Welcome Soap.'

'Any good?' Sacharissa looked startled at the sound of her own voice. 'I mean, obviously I wouldn't wish anyone to die, but, er, we've got quite a lot of space

'I might be able to make something of it. He, er, saved the life of the man who climbed up to talk him down.'

'How brave. Did you get the name of the man who climbed up after him?'

'Urn, no. Er, he was a Mystery Man,' said William.

'Oh, well, that's something. There's some people waiting to see you outside,' said Sacharissa. She glanced at her notes. 'There's a man who's lost his watch, a zombie who... well, I can't make out what he wants. There's a troll who wants a job, and there's someone who's got a complaint about the story of the fight at the Mended Drum and wants to behead you.'

'Oh, dear. All right, one at a time

The watch-loser was easy.

'It was one of the new clockwork ones my father gave to me,' said the man. 'I've been looking for it all week!'

'It's not exactly--'

'If you can put in the paper that I've lost it, maybe someone

87

who has found it will turn it in?' said the man, with unwarranted hopefulness. 'And I'll give you sixpence for your trouble.'

Sixpence was sixpence. William made a few notes.

The zombie was more difficult. For a start he was grey, shading to green in places, and smelled very strongly of artificial hyacinth aftershave, some of the more recent zombies having realized that their chance of making friends in their new life would be greatly improved if they smelled of flowers rather than just smelled.

'People like to know about people who are dead,' he said. His name was Mr Bendy, and he pronounced it in a way that made it clear that the 'Mr' was very much a part of the name.

'They do?'

'Yes,' said Mr Bendy emphatically. 'Dead people can be very interesting. I expect people would be very interested in reading about dead people.'

'Do you mean obituaries?'

'Well, yes, I suppose they would be. I could write them in an interesting way.'

'All right. Twenty pence each, then.'

Mr Bendy nodded. It was clear that he would have done it for nothing. He handed William a wad of yellow, crackling paper.

'Here's an interesting one to start you off,' he said.

'Oh? Whose is it?'

'Mine. It's very interesting. Especially the bit where I died.'

The next man to come in was in fact a troll. Unusually for trolls, who usually wore just enough to satisfy humanity's mysterious demands for decency, this one actually wore a suit. At least, it was largely tubes of cloth that covered his body, and 'suit' was about the only word.

' 'm Rocky,' he mumbled, looking down. Til take any job, guv.'

'What was your last job?' said William.

'Boxer, guv. But I wasn't happy wiv it. Kept getting knocked down.'

'Can you write or take pictures?' said William, wincing.

'No, guv. I can do heavy liftin'. 'n' I can'whistle tunes, guv.'

'That's... a good talent, but I don't think we--'

88

The door flew open and a thick-shouldered, leather-clad man burst in, flourishing an axe.

'You got no right putting that about me in the paper!' he said, waving the blade under William's nose.

'Who are you?'

'I'm Brezock the Barbarian, and I--'

The brain works fast when it thinks it is about to be cut in half.

'Oh, if it's a complaint you have, you have to take it up with the Complaints, Beheadings and Horsewhippings Editor,' said William. 'Mr Rocky here.'

'Dat's me,' boomed Rocky cheerfully, laying a hand on the man's shoulder. There was only room for three of his fingers. Brezock sagged.

'I... just... want to say,' said Brezock, slowly, 'that you put in I hit someone with a table. I never done that. What'd people think of me if they heard I go around hitting people with tables? What'd that do to my reputation?'

'I see.'

'I knifed him. A table's a cissy weapon.'

'We shall certainly print a correction,' said William, picking up his pencil.

'You couldn't add that I tore Slicer Gadley's ear off with my teeth, could you? That'd make people sit up. Ears aren't easy to do.'

When they had all gone, Rocky to sit on a chair outside the door, William and Sacharissa stared at one another.

'It's been a very strange morning,' he said.

'I've found out about the winter,' said Sacharissa. 'And there was an unlicensed theft from a jewellery shop in the Artificers Street. They got quite a lot of silver.'

'How did you find that out?'

'One of the journeyman jewellers told me.' Sacharissa gave a little cough. 'He, um, always comes to have a little chat with me when he sees me walking past.'

'Really? Well done!'

'And while I was waiting for you I had an idea. I got Gunilla to set this in type.' She shyly pushed a piece of paper across the desk.

'It looks more impressive at the top of the page,' she said nervously. 'What do you think?'