The sane core of Colon was wondering if the purpose of officers wasn’t to stand between the sergeants and all this sh-this slush, so that they could get on with sergeanting.
Captain Colon took a deep, wobbly breath.
On the other hand, if people were nicking the sugar lumps, no wonder things weren’t working properly! Get the sugar lumps right, and everything else would work out!
That made sense!
He turned and his eye caught the huge accusing heap of paperwork in the corner.
And the empty fireplace, too.
That was what officering was all about, wasn’t it? Making decisions!
LanceConstable Visit walked dejectedly back down to the main office, which had filled up for a Watch change.
Everyone was clustered around one of the desks on which lay, looking slightly muddy, the Scone of Stone.
‘Constable Thighbiter found it in Zephire Street, just lying there,’ said Sergeant Stronginthearm. ‘The thief must’ve got scared.’
‘A long way from the museum, though,’ said Reg Shoe. ‘Why lug it all the way across the city and leave it in a posh part of town where someone’s bound to trip over it?’
‘Oh, woe is me, for I am undone,’ said Constable Visit, who felt he was playing a poor second fiddle to what he would call, if he had no use for his legs, a pagan image.
‘Could be draughty,’ said Corporal Nobbs, a man of little sympathy.
‘I mean I have been reduced to lanceconstable,’ said Visit:
‘What? Why?’ said Sergeant Stronginthearm.
‘I’m … not sure,’ said Visit.
‘That just about does it!’ said the dwarf. ‘He sacked three of the officers up at Dolly Sisters yesterday. Well, I’m not waiting for it to happen to me. I’m off to Sto Lat. They’re always looking for trained watchmen. I’m a sergeant. I could name my price.’
‘But, look, Vimesy used to say that sort of thing too. I heard him,’ said Nobby.
‘Yeah, but that was different.’
‘How?’
‘That was Mister Vimes,’ said Stronginthearm. ‘Remember that riot in Easy Street last year? Bloke came after me with a club when I was on the ground, and Mister Vimes caught it on his arm and punched the man right in the head.’
‘Yeah,’ said Constable Hacknee, another dwarf. ‘When your back’s against the wall, Mister Vimes is right behind you.’
‘But old Fred … you all know old Fred Colon, boys,’ Nobby wheedled, taking a kettle off the
office stove and pouring the boiling water into a teapot. ‘He knows coppering inside and out.’
‘His kind of coppering, yeah,’ said Hacknee.
‘I mean, he’s been a copper longer than anyone in the Watch,’ said Nobby.
One of the dwarfs said something in dwarfish. There were a few smiles from the shorter watchmen.
‘What was that?’ said Nobby.
‘Well, roughly translated,’ said Stronginthearm, “‘My bum has been a bum for a very long time but I don’t have to listen to anything it says.”’
‘He fined me half a dollar for mumping,’ said Hacknee. ‘Fred Colon! He practically goes on patrol with a shopping bag! And all I had was a free pint at the Bunch of Grapes and I found out that Posh Wally is suddenly flashing a lot of money lately. That’s worth knowing. I remember going out on patrol with Fred Colon when I started and you could practically see him tucking his napkin under his chin whenever we walked past a cafe. “Oh, no, Sergeant Colon, wouldn’t dream of seeing you pay.” They used to lay the table when they saw him turn the corner.’
‘Everyone does it,’ said Stronginthearm.
‘Captain Carrot never did,’ said Nobby.
‘Captain Carrot was … special.’
‘But what am I supposed to do with this?’ said Visit, waving the ink-speckled message. ‘Mister Vimes wants some information urgently, he says!’
Stronginthearm took the paper and read it.
‘Well, this shouldn’t be hard,’ he said. ‘Old Wussie Staid in Kicklebury Street was a janitor there for years and he owes me a favour.’
‘If we’re going to send a clacks to Mister Vimes then we ought to tell him about the Scone and Sonky,’ said Reg Shoe. ‘You know he left a message about that. I’ve done a report.’
‘Why? He’s hundreds of miles away.’
‘I’d just feel happier if he knew,’ said Reg. “cos it worries me.’
‘What good will it do sending it to him, then?’
‘Because then it’ll worry him, and I can stop worrying,’ said Reg.
‘Corporal Nobbs!’
‘He listens at the door, I’ll swear he does,’ said Stronginthearm. ‘I’m off.’
‘Coming, captain!’ shouted Nobby. He pulled open the bottom drawer of his battered and stained desk and took out a packet of chocolate biscuits, some of which he arranged daintily on a plate.
‘Does me no good at all to see you acting like this,’ Stronginthearm went on, winking at the other dwarfs. ‘You’ve got it in you to be a really bad copper, Nobby. Breaks my heart to see you throwin’ it all away to become a really bad waitress.’
‘Ha ha ha,’ said Nobby. ‘Just you wait, that’s all I’m saying.’ He raised his voice. ‘Coming right now, captain!’
There was a sharp smell of burned paper in the captain’s room when Nobby entered.
‘Nothing cheers up the day like a good fire, I always say,’ he said, putting the tray on the desk.
But Captain Colon wasn’t paying any
attention. He’d removed the sugar bowl from the locked drawer of his desk and had laid the cubes out in rows.
‘Do you see anything wrong with these lumps, corporal?’ he said quietly.
‘Well, they’re a bit manky where you’ve been handling them every-‘
‘There’s thirty-seven, corporal.’
‘Sorry about that, captain.’
‘Visit must’ve pinched them when he was in here. He must’ve used some fancy foreign trick. They can do that, you know. Climb ropes and disappear up the top of ‘em, that sort of thing.’
‘Did he have a rope?’ said Nobby.
‘Are you making fun of me, corporal?’
Nobby saluted. ‘Nossir! Maybe it was a invisible one, sir. After all, if they can disappear up a rope, they can make the rope disappear, too. Obviously.’
‘Good thinking, corporal.’
‘On the subject of thinking, sir,’ said Nobby, plunging in, ‘have you had time in your busy schedule to give some thought to the promotion of the new sergeant?’
‘I have, as a matter of fact, put that very thing in hand, corporal.’
‘Good, sir.’
‘I’ve borne in mind everything you said, and the choice was starin’ me in the face.’
‘Yessir!’ said Nobby, sticking out his chest and saluting.
‘I just hope it don’t cause loss of morals. It can do that, when people are promoted. So if there’s any trouble like that, I want the sugar-stealing person reported to me right away, understand?’
‘Yessir!’ Nobby’s feet had almost left the ground.
‘And I shall rely on you, corporal, to let me know if Sergeant Flint has any trouble.’
‘Sergeant Flint,’ said Nobby, in a little voice.
‘I know he’s a troll, but I won’t have it said I’m an unfair man.’
`Sergeant Flint.’
‘I knows I can rely on you, corporal.’
‘Sergeant Flint.’
‘That will be all. I’ve got to go and see his lordship in an hour and I want some time to think. That’s what my job is, thinking.’
‘Sergeant Flint.’
‘Yes. I should go and report to him if I was you.’
White chicken feathers were scattered across the field. The farmer stood at the door of his henhouse, shaking his head. He glanced up as a horseman approached.
‘Good morrow, sir! Are you experiencing trouble?’
The farmer opened his mouth for a witty or at least snappy response, but something stopped him. Perhaps it was the sword the horseman had slung across his back. Perhaps it was the man’s faint smile. The smile was somehow more frightening.
‘Er, somethin’s been at my fowls,’ he ventured. ‘Fox, I reckon.’
‘Wolf, I suspect,’ said the rider.
The man opened his mouth to say, ‘Don’t be daft, we don’t get wolves down here this time of the year,’ but again the confident smile made him hesitate.
‘Got many hens, did they?’
‘Six,’ said the farmer.
‘And they got in by…’
‘Well, that’s the strange th-Here, keep that dog away!’
A small mongrel had leapt down from the saddle and was sniffing around the henhouses.
‘He won’t be any trouble,’ said the rider.
‘I shouldn’t push your luck, mate, he’s in a funny mood,’ said a voice behind the farmer. He turned around quickly.
The dog looked up at him innocently. Everyone knew that dogs didn’t talk.
‘Woof? Bark? Whine?’ it said.
‘He’s highly trained,’ said the rider.
‘Yeah, right,’ said the voice behind the farmer. He felt an overpowering desire to see the back of the horseman. The smile was getting on his nerves, and now he was hearing things.
‘I can’t see how they got in,’ he said. ‘The door’s latched …’
‘And wolves don’t usually leave payment, right?’ said the rider.