Street urchin, he thought. Urchin sounds about right – spiky, slimy and smelling slightly of rotting seaweed. But there’s hundreds of them round here, clawing a living off the very margins, and as I recall Nobby was one of the sharpest. And as trustworthy as a chocolate hammer. But that’s okay. There’s ways to deal with that.
‘How much,’ he said, ‘for you to work for me, all the time?’
‘I got customers to think of-‘ he began.
‘Yeah, but I’in the one holding you up in one hand, right?’ said Vimes.
With his oversized boots dangling a foot above the ground, Nobby considered his position. ‘All the time?’
‘Right!’
‘Er… for something like that I’ve got to be looking at a lordship every day.’
‘A dollar? Guess again!’
‘Er… half a dollar?’
‘Not a chance. A dollar a week, and I won’t make your life the utter misery which, Nobby, I assure you I can do in so many little ways.’
Still dangling, Nobby tried to work all this out. ‘So… I’ll be kind of like a copper, right?’ he said, grinning artfully.
‘Kind of.’
‘Number One Suspect says it’s a good life being a copper, ‘cos you can pinch stuff without getting nicked.’
‘He’s got that right,’ said Vimes.
‘An’ he says if anyone gives you lip, you can bop ’em one and chuck them in the Tanty,’ Nobby went on. ‘I’d like to be a copper
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one day.’
‘Who’s Number One Suspect?’
‘That’s what our mam calls Sconner, our dad. Er… payment up front, yeah?’ Nobby added, hopefully.
‘What do you think?’
‘Ah. Right. No, eh?’
‘Correct. But I’ll tell you what…’ He lowered Nobby to the ground. Light as a feather, he thought. ‘You come with me, kid.’
Ankh-Morpork was full of men living in lodgings. Anyone with a spare room rented it out. And, in addition to the darning and stitching that was turning Miss Battye into one of the highest earning seamstresses in the city, they needed something else that women were best able to supply. They needed feeding.
There were plenty of hotchair eating places like the one Vimes headed for now. It sold plain food for plain men. There wasn’t a menu. You ate what was put in front of you, you ate it quick, and you were glad to get it. If you didn’t like it, there were plenty who did. The dishes had names like Slumgullet, Boiled Eels, Lob Scouse, Wet Nellies, Slumpie and Treacle Billy – good, solid stuff that stuck to the ribs and made it hard to get up out of the seat. They generally had a lot of turnip in, even if they weren’t supposed to.
Vimes elbowed his way to the counter, dragging Nobby
behind him. A chalked sign said ‘All You Can Eat In Ten Minutes For 10p’.
Beneath it, a large woman was standing barearmed by a
cauldron in which uncertain things bubbled in grey scum. She gave him an appraising look and then glanced at his sleeve.
‘What can I do for you, sergeant?’ she said. ‘What happened to Sergeant Knock?’
‘Comes in here a lot, does he?’ said Vimes.
‘Dinner and supper.’ Her look said it all: second helpings, too,
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and never pays.
Vimes held up Nobby. ‘See this?’ he said.
‘Is it a monkey?’ said the woman.
‘Har har, very funny,’ moaned Nobby, as Vimes lowered him again.
‘He’s going to come in here for one square meal every day,’
said Vimes. ‘All he can eat for ten pence.’
‘Yes? And who’s paying, may I ask?’
‘Me.’ Vimes plonked a halfdollar on the table. That’s five days in advance. What’s the special today? Slumgullet? It’ll put hairs on his chest, when he gets a chest. Give him a big bowl. You might make a loss on this deal.’
He shoved Nobby on to a bench, placed the greasy bowl in front of him, and sat down opposite.
‘You said a lady,’ he said. ‘Don’t mess me about, Nobby.’
‘Have I got to share this, sarge?’ said Nobby, picking up a wooden spoon.
‘It’s all yours. Make sure you eat up every bit. There may be a test later,’ said Vimes. ‘A woman, you said.’
‘Lady Meserole, sarge,’ said Nobby indistinctly, through a mouthful of mixed vegetables and grease. Tosh lady. Everyone calls her Madam. Come from Genua a few months ago.’
‘When did she ask you?’
‘This morning, sarge.’
‘What? She just stopped you in the street?’
‘Er… I’ve got a kind of gen’ral contract with her, sarge.’
Vimes glared. It was better than speaking. Nobby wriggled uneasily.
‘Fact is, sarge, she… er, caught me snickering her nolly last month. Hell’s bells, sarge, she’s got a punch on her like a mule!
When I come round, we got to talking, and she said a keen
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young lad like me could be useful as, like, an ear on the street.’
Vimes continued to glare, but he was impressed. Young
Nobby had been a gifted pickpocket. Anyone who caught him in the act was quick indeed. He turned up the ferocity of the glare.
‘All right, sarge, she said she’d turn me over to the Day Watch if I didn’t,’ Nobby confessed, ‘and you go straight to the Tanty if a nob lays a complaint against you.’
That’s bloody true, thought Vimes. Private law again.
‘I don’t want to go to the Tanty, sarge. Sconner’s in there.’
And he used to break your arms, Vimes remembered. ‘So
why’s a fine lady interested in me, Nobby?’ he said aloud.
‘Didn’t ask. I told ‘er about you an’ the hurryup wagon and the Unmentionables and everything. She said you sounded
fascinatin’. An’ Rosie Palm’s paying me a measly penny a day to keep an eye on you, too. Oh, an’ Corporal Snubbs at Cable Street, he’s payin’ me one halfpenny to watch you, but what is a halfpenny these days, say I, so I don’t watch you much on his account. Oh, and Lance-Corporal Coates, I’in getting a penny from him, too.’
‘Why?’
‘Dunno. He asked me this morning, too. A penny job.’ Nobby belched hugely. ‘Better out than in, eh? Who d’you want me to watch for you, sarge?’
‘Me,’ said Vimes. ‘If you can fit me into your busy schedule.’
‘You want me to follow you?’
‘No, just tell me what people are saying about me. Keep an eye on who else is following me. Watch my back, sort of thing.’
‘Right!’
‘Good. Just one more thing, Nobby…’
‘Yes, sarge?’ said Nobby, still spooning.
‘Give me back my notebook, my handkerchief and the four
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pennies you whizzed from my pockets, will you?’
Nobby opened his mouth to protest, dribbling slumgullet, but closed it when he saw the glint in Vimes’s eye. Silently, he produced the items from various horrible pockets.
‘Well done,’ said Vimes, getting up. ‘I’in sure I don’t have to tell you what’ll happen to you if you try the old dippitydoodah on me again, do I, Nobby?’
‘No, sarge,’ said Nobby, looking down.
‘Want another bowl? Have fun. I’ve got to go to work.’
‘You can rely on me, sarge!’
Oddly enough, thought Vimes as he walked back to the Watch House, I probably can. Nobby would nick anything and dodge anything but he wasn’t bad. You could trust him with your life, although you’d be daft to trust him with a dollar.
He purchased a packet of Pantweed’s Slim Panatellas from another street trader. Carrying them around in their cardboard packet didn’t feel right at all.
There was a buzz in the main office as he strolled in.
Watchmen were standing around in little groups. Sergeant Knock spotted Vimes and trotted over.
‘Bit of a do, sir. Had a breakin last night,’ he reported, with just a hint of smirk.
‘Really?’ said Vimes. ‘What did they steal?’
‘Did I say they stole anything, sir?’ said the sergeant innocently.
‘Well, no, you didn’t,’ said Vimes. ‘That was me jumping to what we call a conclusion. Did they steal anything, then, or did they break in to deliver a box of chocolates and a small complimentary basket of fruit?’
They stole the captain’s silver inkstand,’ said Knock,
impervious to sarcasm. ‘And it was an inside job, if you want my opinion. The door upstairs was forced but the main doors
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weren’t. Must’ve been a copper what done it!’
Vimes was amazed at the forensic expertise shown here. ‘My word, a copper stealing?’ he said.
‘Yes, a terrible thing,’ said Knock earnestly. ‘Especially since you showed us the way yesterday, about being honest and everything.’ He glanced past Vimes, and shouted. ‘Attention!
Officer present!’
Tilden was coming down the stairs. The room fell silent, except for his hesitant steps.
‘No luck, sergeant?’ he said.
‘Not so far, sir,’ said Knock. ‘I was just telling Sergeant Keel here what a terrible thing has happened.’
‘It was engraved, you know,’ said Tilden mournfully.
‘Everyone in the regiment chipped in what they could afford.