Entry 2: Video
[Angua is looking a bit sleepy, a bit disheveled, and more than a bit annoyed.]
Well, I suppose I've found out what these "Barge comas" are all about, now. Has anything happened since the Admiral was reinstated?
[She glances down at something in her hand, then holds up a file.]
Other than this, anyway. Which of you is Jack Carter?
Well, I suppose I've found out what these "Barge comas" are all about, now. Has anything happened since the Admiral was reinstated?
[She glances down at something in her hand, then holds up a file.]
Other than this, anyway. Which of you is Jack Carter?
[Interest definitely piqued by pretty blonde lady who he is probably about to underestimate dreadfully.]
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Much obliged to you for coming to talk, Captain Angua.
[If she starts yelling or flailing, he thinks, he'll know where he stands with her.]
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Oh, not at all. It's part of the job, Mister... Or should I call you Jack? I suppose that's best.
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Carter. [A tone that brooked no argument.] Would you like to come in, Captain Angua?
[With surprising graciousness, he stepped aside to admit her. The room was small and a bit grubby, the spit of the Newcastle boarding-house room where he'd last laid his head-all cheap furniture, hideous wallpaper, and a dreadful cross-stitch with the legend "What Would Jesus Say" hung over the bed. There was a small armchair by the window-the only other place to sit beside the bed.]
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[She decides to let the name thing go for now. There's no point in simply antagonizing him for no reason. She enters the room, glances around, and is surprised to discover that Earth boarding-rooms are as ugly as -- maybe even uglier than -- Ankh-Morpork rooms. She still lives in her old room from Mrs. Cake's boarding house, but at least that's just all boring, stain-friendly brown. This looks like someone threw up a decorative antimacassar.
Taking in the, er, scenery, she crosses to the armchair and takes a seat.]
All right... First off, I suppose I should ask, is there anything you'd like for me to know? Something that might not be in here?
[Anything, she means, that might make her feel a little more lenient towards all the murdering people he's done?]
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[A shrug.]
My brother and my niece were victims. The bastards messed them around got what was coming to 'em.
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...But. [Really, if he'd just killed Kinnear and Paice, she probably would have even argued on his behalf. But.] There's rather a bit more in here than just Kinnear, isn't there?
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Who? Brumby? Fletcher's little bum-boys? Or any of the blokes I did for back when I was starting out for Fletcher?
[And then a penny drops, and he almost looks amused.]
You're talking about Glenda and Margaret, eh?
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I meant all of them. [You sexist jackass, she doesn't add, quite determinedly.]
I don't quite understand the reason for killing, well... [She opens the file again and looks back down at it, taking a moment to recover.] ...everyone, really.
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[Her name and rank now with that edge of contempt, that way he had of repeating a person's name more and more as he got increasingly displeased with them.]
That precious file in there, does it tell you how rotten every last one of those buggers was? They were all in on it somewhere. All of 'em, blood on their hands. Newcastle's still a craphouse town, but it's a craphouse town with a few less evil shits in it, Captain Angua.
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And yes, what about Glenda and Margaret? What about Brumby, for that matter? [She taps the file.] From what's written in here, it seems as though he'd been helping out before you murdered him.
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[He sits down on the edge of the bed across from her and leans forward, his elbows on his knees.]
And as for Margaret and Glenda, maybe you missed something important in that precious file, Captain Angua. Maybe you missed the part where they helped get hold of my sixteen-year-old niece and ensured that some very bad things happened to her.
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[It's almost as much a warning as anything else. She's starting to understand his mindset, and she doesn't like it one bit. He may not have the high birth, but it sounds awfully like Wolfgang and the nobility of Uberwald and Ankh-Morpork to her: An obstacle's not an obstacle if it can be conveniently killed.]
Fine. What about before Frank died? You were just following orders, is that the idea?
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[And he was. And he did enjoy it-not the killing or the beatings for their own sake, not at all. But none of it had ever really kept him awake at night. Get the other bugger before he gets you-that's what he'd learnt as a child. And if your boss asks you to do a job, you do it right and you do it well, or you'll be the next job.]
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[Scholarship boys, that's what they call them...] Tell me, Carter. Do they have an assassin's guild where you're from? A school?
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Sure they do. School of bloody hard knocks, they call it. A guild? Christ. [So amused.] Newcastle's behind the times, but not that far.
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