Faramir:
At the gate of the fifth circle, Faramir turned down to the lower levels of the city whereas Denethor and Húrin headed for the engine room.
On the first circle Faramir found Beregond and Bergil. They knew nothing of the matter, so Faramir kept on walking from level to level questioning everyone who passed on his way, except on the fifth circle (his cheeck was still red from all the pinching), but no one seemed to know where the rats had come.
Tired and with his feet aching, Faramir finally dragged himself on the top of the city. "What's this?" he muttered to himself and stooped to pick up a scorched tiny cloak on the ground. Other than that, Faramir found nothing suspicious up there and returned to the engine room inside the hill.
"Have you found the traitor?" Denethor asked as Faramir stepped over the threshold.
"Not exactly", Faramir said, "but I found this", and he held the minuscule piece of cloth on his palm. It was black, but in the hem there was an embroided lidless eye and a little white tag.
"100% nylon, dry-cleaning only, keep off from fire", Faramir read out aloud.
"That's so low even from the baddies! Mount Zoom is sending us their laundry. Don't they have any idea how expensive dry-cleaning is?" Denethor snarled.
"Hold on a second", Faramir mused.
"There shall be shown a token,
That Doom is near at hand..."
"If Mount Doom can afford to ship their dirty clothes here, it really can't be very far off! We must get the rats out of the pipes immediately and-"
"AAIEEEEEEHHHHHH!" yelped Faramir shaking his right foot with a mousetrap clenched tightly around his toes.
"Careful now!" Denethor growled. "Húrin and I spent the whole afternoon setting those up, and the last thing we need is you to break them all."
Indeed, when Faramir looked around in the engine room, he discovered that the floor was coated with traps and each of them had a different bait. There were traps with marmalade and cheese, turnips and even Aragorn's gym socks, as Faramir noted as he wiped liverwurst off of his boot.
"Well, we didn't know what could lure the rats out, so we had to try a little everything", Denethor replied defensively to Faramir's sarcastic look.
"MWHAHAHAHA!" wheezed a voice in a corner behind the nuclear reactor. "You will never find the proper way to get rid of the little rodents", said a man stepping out of the shadows. He sounded and looked like a chainsmoker, and truly he smelled like one, too.
"Who are you?" winced Faramir stepping on a few more mousetraps (custard and sherry)
"I am Vérmïndil, son of Vérmïndur, from the House of Pár-Asitë. I am your nuclear technician", he explained as Denethor, Faramir and Húrin stared at him clearly confused.
"I smell a rat!" Húrin snorted. "He's not a member of my technician team. I haven't hired him, I assure you, my lords."
"Huh? What have I been doing here for the last three years then?" Vérmïndil exclaimed. "Oh well, no matter, I have reached my goal."
"I take it that you had your hands in this. Speak up", Denethor demanded.
"Why yes. It was my brilliant plan. Say no to nuclear power! Vote the Communists! Become a vegetarian! Never wear a yellow shirt on Monday!" the man chuckled and got an impressive fit of coughing.
"I think he might have got an overdose of radiation down here", Faramir whispered.
"No kidding", Denethor said glumly as Vérmïndil started picking his third ear while humming Happy Birthday to himself.
Faramir looked distressed. "What shall we do now, Father?"