‘You said you wanted to get at the truth, didn’t you?’
‘Yes, but not this! I … must have got something wrong. I must have. I must have. Even my father couldn’t be this … this stupid. I’ve got to find out what’s really been happening.’
‘You’re not going to see him, are you?’ said Sacharissa.
‘Yes. By now he’ll know it’s over.’
‘Then you ought to take someone with you!’
‘No!’ snapped William. ‘Look, you don’t know what my father’s friends are like. They are brought up to give orders, they know that they’re on the right side because if they are on it then it must be the right side, by definition, and when they feel threatened they are bare-knuckle fighters, except that they never take their gloves off. They are thugs. Thugs and bullies, bullies, and the worst kind of bully, because they aren’t cowards and if you stand up to them they only hit you harder. They grew up in a world where, if you were enough trouble, they could have you … disappeared. You think places like the Shades are bad? Then you don’t know what goes on in Park Lane! And my father is one of the worst. But I’m family. We … care about family. So I’ll be all right. You stay here and help them get the paper out, will you? Half a truth is better than nothing,’ he added bitterly.
‘Vot vas all zat about?’ said Otto, coming up as William strode out of the room.
‘Oh, he’s … he’s off to see his father,’ said Sacharissa, still taken aback. ‘Who is not a nice man, apparently. He was very … heated about him. Very upset.’
‘’scuse me,’ said a voice. The girl turned, but there was no one behind her.
Now the invisible speaker sighed. ‘No, down here,’ it said. She looked down at the malformed pink poodle.
‘Let’s not mess around, eh?’ it said. ‘Yeah, yeah, dogs can’t talk. Got it in one, well done. So maybe you’ve got some strange ment’l power. That’s that sorted out, then. I couldn’t help overhearin’, ’cos I was listenin’. The lad’s heading into trouble, right? I can smell trouble—’
‘Are you some kind of verevolf?’ said Otto.
‘Yeah, right, I get very hairy every full moon,’ said the dog dismissively. ‘Imagine how much that interferes with my social life. Now, look—’
‘But surely dogs can’t talk—’ Sacharissa began.
‘Oh dear oh dear oh dear,’ said Gaspode. ‘Did I say I was talking?’
‘Well, not in so many words—’
‘Right. Wonderful thing, phenomenology. Now, I just seen a hundred dollars walk out the door and I want to see it walk back, right? Lord de Worde is as nasty a piece of work as you’ll find in this town.’
‘You know nobility?’ said Sacharissa.
‘A cat can look at a king, right? That’s legal.’
‘I suppose so—’
‘So it works for dogs, too. Got to work for dogs if it works for ratbag moggies. I know everyone, I do. Lord de Worde used to get his butler to put down poisoned meat for the street dogs.’
‘But he wouldn’t hurt William, would he?’
‘I’m not a betting man,’ said Gaspode. ‘But if he does, right, we still get the hundred dollars, yes?’
‘Ve cannot stand by and let him do zis,’ said Otto. ‘I like Villiam. He was not brought up nice but he tries to be a nice person, vithout even cocoa and a singsong to help him. It is hard to go against your nature. Ve must … help him.’
Death placed the final hourglass back on to the air, where it faded away.
THERE, he said, WASN’T THAT INTERESTING? WHAT NEXT, MR TULIP? ARE YOU READY TO GO?
The figure sat on the cold sand, staring at nothing.
MR TULIP? Death repeated. The wind flapped his robe, so that it streamed out a long ribbon of darkness.
‘I … got to be really sorry …?’
OH YES. IT IS SUCH A SIMPLE WORD. BUT HERE … IT HAS MEANING. IT HAS … SUBSTANCE.
‘Yeah. I know.’ Mr Tulip looked up, his eyes red-rimmed, his face puffy. ‘I reckon … to be that sorry, you got to take a — ing good run at it.’
YES.
‘So … how long have I got?’
Death looked up at the strange stars.
ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD.
‘Yeah … well, maybe that’ll — ing do it. Maybe there won’t be no more world to go back to by then.’
I BELIEVE IT DOES NOT WORK LIKE THAT. I UNDERSTAND REINCARNATION CAN TAKE PLACE ANYWHEN. WHO SAYS LIVES ARE SERIAL?
‘You sayin’ … I could be alive before I was born?’
YES.
‘Maybe I can find me and kill myself,’ said Mr Tulip, staring at the sand.
NO, BECAUSE YOU WILL NEVER KNOW. AND YOU MAY BE LEADING QUITE A DIFFERENT LIFE.
‘Good …’
Death patted Mr Tulip on the shoulder, which flinched under his touch.
I SHALL LEAVE YOU NOW—
‘Th’t’s a good scythe you got there,’ said Mr Tulip, slowly and laboriously. ‘That silverwork’s craftsmanship if ever I saw it.’
THANK YOU, said Death. AND NOW, I REALLY MUST BE GOING. BUT I WILL PASS THROUGH HERE SOMETIMES. MY DOOR, he added, IS ALWAYS OPEN.
He strode off. The hunched figure fell behind into the darkness, but a new one appeared, running madly across the not-exactly-sand.
It was waving a potato on a string. It stopped when it saw Death and then, to Death’s amazement, turned to look behind it. This had never happened before. Most people, upon coming face to face with Death, ceased worrying about anything behind them.
‘Is there anyone after me? Can you see anyone?’
ER … NO. WERE YOU EXPECTING ANYONE?
‘Oh, right. No one, eh? Right!’ said Mr Pin, squaring his shoulders. ‘Yeah! Hah! Hey, look, I’ve got my potato!’
Death blinked and then took an hourglass out of his robe.
MR PIN? AH. THE OTHER ONE. I HAVE BEEN EXPECTING YOU.
‘That’s me! And I’ve got my potato, look, and I’m very sorry about everything!’ Mr Pin was feeling quite calm now. The mountains of madness have many little plateaux of sanity.
Death stared into the madly smiling face. YOU ARE VERY SORRY?
‘Oh, yes!’
ABOUT EVERYTHING?
‘Yep!’
AT THIS TIME? IN THIS PLACE? YOU DECLARE YOU ARE SORRY?
‘That’s right. You got it. You’re bright. So if you’ll just show me how to get back—’
YOU WOULD NOT LIKE TO RECONSIDER?
‘No arguing, I want what’s due,’ said Mr Pin. ‘I’ve got my potato. Look.’
AND I SEE. Death reached into his robe and pulled out what looked to Mr Pin, at first sight, like a miniature model of himself. But there was a rat skull looking out from under the tiny cowl.
Death grinned. SAY HELLO TO MY LITTLE FRIEND, he said.
The Death of Rats reached out and snatched the string.
‘Hey—’
DO NOT PUT ALL YOUR TRUST IN ROOT VEGETABLES. WHAT THINGS SEEM MAY NOT BE WHAT THEY ARE, said Death. YET LET NO ONE SAY I DON’T HONOUR THE LAW. He snapped his fingers. RETURN, THEN, TO WHERE YOU SHOULD GO …
Blue light flickered for a moment around the astonished Pin, and then he vanished.
Death sighed and shook his head.
THE OTHER ONE … HAD SOMETHING IN HIM THAT COULD BE BETTER, he said. BUT THAT ONE … He sighed deeply. WHO KNOWS WHAT EVIL LURKS IN THE HEART OF MEN?{40}
The Death of Rats looked up from the feast of potato.
SQUEAK, he said.
Death waved a hand dismissively. WELL, YES, OBVIOUSLY ME, he said. I JUST WONDERED IF THERE WAS ANYONE ELSE.