More Tales from the Guilds Ch. 07

Because the Mano Rosso guild house was, naturally, in the 'best' part of town, the way to Chateau d'Lavish was but a few blocks. Jocasta spent several hours exploring before returning to her room. Well-satisfied that this commission was nowhere the challenge she'd faced trying to get into Ramkin House (no highly territorial hippos, for one thing), she washed and went to bed.

The Wiggs family had done well by the Black Syllabus, and like many children of the wealthy, Jocasta was adverse to early hours. Besides, she'd been up late the night before. So when she descended and went looking for breakfast, she found brunch. Genua is a city obsessed with food which is strange, considering that there isn't much around it to eat. At least 'much to eat' by Ankh-Morpork standards. Genuans take the view what's good to eat depends more on what the cook does than what you start with. So when Jocasta entered the dining room and looked at the buffet, the collection of things with tentacles, carapaces and an excessive number of legs was unsettling. However, the aromas that rose from the various pots and chafing dishes were so wonderful that she quickly dropped any distaste and dug in.

The evening meal was (she regretted) light. When agility and alertness are your stock in trade, being weighed down by a sumptuous meal is an excellent way to get in deep trouble.

I'll make up for it tomorrow before I leave for AM, she reassured herself, but now, the sun is down and it's time to go to work.

Standing in front of the mirror once again, Jocasta nodded approvingly at her working blacks. Now for the armament. Since the Master of Assassins' had prescribed 'Extreme Prejudice' her first act was to fasten her custom throwing ax to her belt. So much for Plan A. Plan B involved strapping a double bitted battle ax across her back and Plan C sliding a main gauche to her belt on the left side. Fully prepared, she opened the window and exited the guild house.

Gliding along the ridgelines, skittering down the roof valleys, leaping lightly from one building to the next, she crossed the district—inexorably. One last spring took her to the slope of Chateau d'Lavish and there she stayed, frozen in place, listening. Nothing. She slipped to a window and donning a stethoscope, listened again. Still all quiet. This was an advantage. Inhuming a client in the midst of a dinner party was reasonably common and approved of so long as none of the guests or household staff were injured. However, it was simpler and neater to inhume the client one-on-one. There being no indication of anyone in the house besides Marko and a servant or three, Jocasta oiled the hinges to silently open the dormer window and let herself in.

Marko's late brother, Sir Joshua Lavish, had been a renowned libertine. The contents of the secret closet of the bedroom in the President's Suite of the Royal Bank took days to inventory. Though the list was never officially published, it still managed to circulate through 'certain quarters' of the city—most probably through the efforts of Corporal Nobbs.

Marko himself had no such reputation but with his wife away in Quirm, he had been accepting 'house calls' from the local 'Seamstresses'. This was probably why when heard Jocasta softly murmur behind him, "Good evening, Mr. Lavish," he turned with a smile.

He had just enough time to see the glint of the ax's edge before it buried itself haft deep into his chest.

"Lord Downey is very upset!" Jocasta said as Marko slumped to the floor. Removing the weapon from the deceased's sternum, she cleaned it and then laid him out neatly (or as neatly as one can with that much blood all over) and pinned the very official Teemer and Spools receipt to his shirt. Silently, she padded back down the hall to the window she'd entered from and left. 'Extreme prejudice' was, by Guild standards, very messy and more than just a bit crude, she thought, However, it did pointedly convey just what could happen if you really offended the Guild. 'What could go wrong?' you might ask. This could go wrong!

*****

"Welcome to der Cavern Club, Molly! We is pleased dat you have make der time for dis little visit. Can we offers youse a drink? On der house, of course. Dese here are all guarantee safe for humans." Chrysoprase waved toward the bar. He was in an ebullient mood.

Queen Molly, for her part, brightened up. A free drink? Without even having to ask for it? This meeting was off to a good start and she hadn't even had to say anything.

"Why thank-you, Mr. Chrysoprase, we very much would like a large beer. Might there be any chance you could spare I an eight course dinner to go with it?"

As head of the Beggars' Guild Molly was circumscribed to only beg for the maximum possible. This meant she rarely got anything herself. Fortunately, her 'subjects' in the Guild always made sure she was in on the general take. But you have to get lucky once in a while . . .

"Basalt! Be fetchin' my usual and a large Bearhuggers' Olde Amazin' for der Queen. Nuttin' but der best for our guests here, Molly. An' Basalt, be tellin' der kitchen to preparin' a full deep-fried turkey dinner wit' all der fixin's. An' makin' it snappy."

Queen Molly's eye grew wide. Okay, Ol' Chrysoprase is definitely after something. We wonder what it is. He said something about 'mutually beneficial'. We hope that means more than just one heckova meal!

As was noted above, the Lavish family 'evolved' from violent pursuits designed to separate others from their money and towards merely vile ones, that is to say banking. As are most other shareholders in normal banks, they were adverse to opening accounts for or lending money to anyone who had any real need for a loan. One of Moist Von Lipwig's greatest offenses to the Lavishes was to get poor people to start banking. This brought out socks from under mattresses and filled the coffers of the Royal Bank of Ankh-Morpork. Then he had the temerity to start making (profitable) loans to very small businesses and start their owners on the upward climb. The Lavishes were outraged. Money was supposed to belong to them, not get shared through the greater economy. Now things were about to turn for the worse.

Negotiations between the Beggars' Guild and the Bodyguards, Bouncers and Last Resort Lenders continued into the night and through several flagons of Bearhuggers'. At last Chrysoprase came to the point.

"It seemin' t'me, Molly, dat dere are a gap in der financial services in der city. All der reg'lar banks, dey be financin' der normal run ob bidness. Wit' Von Lipwig in charge ob der Royal Bank, der small bidnessfolk can get der money dey need to eeder keep goin' or maybe eben grow. What are missin' are der secondary financial market. Supposin' a small bidness man, maybe a tailor, is habbin' trouble gettin' one of der Beggars' 'unaware renters' to pay his bill. If what I am tinkin' ob callin' der Beggars and Bouncers Surreptitious Bank were to be buyin' dat bill at a discount, der tailor can be gettin' paid, at least enough to stay in bidness. Den, we advises der debtor dat his bill is due, wit in'tres and penalties and he can eder pay up or get evicted or hab one ob my associates pay him a visit. Money be returnin' to der general circulation, small bidnessfolk don' be losin' der livelihood and der BBS Bank be turnin' a profit. What do you say, Molly?"

Queen Molly contemplated the bottom of her beer mug for a few minutes.

"We are impressed with your proposal, Mr. Chrysoprase, and if it were up to just I, we would sign the contract immediately. However, it will have to go before the Board of Beggars for them to approve. We will strongly recommend that they agree, of course, and we are sure they will. So let I have a week or so to twist arms and pound heads and then we can just call in Mr. Thunderbolt to draw up the articles. Does that meet with your approval?"

Chrysoprase's diamond teeth flashed in an immense grin and he stuck out his hand.

"Dat will bein' perfect, Queen Molly, and here are my han' on it!"

The handshake was firm and straightforward. A new day was dawning in the complex world of Ankh-Morpork's commerce.

*****