Mar 24, 2011 20:27
Moist was truly getting to hate Sammies* and their persistent questioning. It wasn't his fault that the woman he was working on getting to invest in his pet project happened to die. She hadn't even been murdered just died, but since there was money involved the guards were there.
The questioning was getting tiring as he wasn't going to change his story and they didn't have anything on him. He was simply a nervous businessman looking for investors who kept playing with his pocket watch and wanting to be gone from there as his reputation would be ruined.
The guard was so obvious, Moist could almost read his mind, he knew that Moist was there for money but there was nothing suspicious about him other than his existing. Finally with a truly resigned sigh that promised the man would be drinking heavily later, he said, "This all fits, Mister Astaire. We'll find you if we have anymore questions."
"Good, good, such a shame, she was a fine woman. I just wish I could have known her longer," Moist said as he wiped his forehead with his silk handkerchief, an honest man caught in a bad situation and left.
Out of the station, he took care to stop in a tavern and order a good stiff drink, telling everyone the sad story as he fiddled with his pocket watch and handkerchief. No one would suspect him of anything, at his inn, he talked of the good men who were trying to protect that dear lady's money from vultures before retiring to his room for some proper rest.
*Guards who have been trained by Sam Vimes in Ankh-Morpork.
borrowing a name,
business of conning