[Ghosts, huh? Most of the time, Vimes manages to keep well clear of them, mainly by the simple approach of keeping the past thoroughly locked up. Some things are better left for dead, like an old watchman in a gutter.]

[But he's well aware that, sometimes, they come back up with a set of brass knuckles at the ready.]

Funny thing about trouble - it doesn't usually care if you're here for it, when it's here for you.

[The holster's an odd one. Guns, in the modern sense, haven't quite made it to the Disc (although gonnes are taking off in some parts of the city, much to Vimes' annoyance as a man who prefers the simple pleasures of a weighted truncheon), but it is immediately apparent that it's, well, a holster. It's for some kind of weapon. It's also empty. He's not entirely sure what to take from the message of I used to have a weapon, but I don't any more.]

And you look like a man who knows trouble. Am I wrong?