Vimes worked himself into a niche between two bundles and leaned toward Cheery.

"You know about the clacks, right?" he said.

"Well, sort of, sir..."

"Good." Vimes pa.s.sed her a piece of paper. "There's bound to be a tower near where we stop tonight. Cipher this and send it to the Watch, will you? They ought to be able to turn it around in an hour, if they ask the right people. Tell them to try Washable Topsy, she does the laundry there. Or Gilbert Gilbert, he always seems to know what's going on."

Cheery read the message, and then stared at Vimes.

"Are you sure sure, sir?" she said.

"Maybe. Make sure you send the description. description. Names don't mean much." Names don't mean much."

"May I ask what makes you think-"

"His walk. And he didn't catch an orange," said Vimes. "Mhm. Mhm."

Constable Visit was cleaning out the old pigeon loft when the message arrived on the clacks.

He had been spending more and more time with the pigeons these days. It wasn't a popular job, so no one had tried to take it away from him, and at least up here the shouts and door-slammings were m.u.f.fled.

The perches gleamed. gleamed.

Constable Visit enjoyed his job. He didn't have many friends in the city. Truth to tell, he didn't have many friends in the Watch, either. But at least there were people to talk to, and he was making headway with the religious instruction of the pigeons.

But now there was this...

It was addressed to Captain Carrot. That meant it probably ought to be delivered to Captain Colon now, and personally personally, because Captain Colon thought that people were spying on his messages sent via the suction tube.

Constable Visit had been fairly safe up until now. Omnians were good at not questioning orders, even ones that made no sense. Visit instinctively respected authority, no matter how crazy, because he'd been brought up properly. And he had plenty of time to keep his armor bright. Brightly polished armor had suddenly become very important in the Watch, for some reason.

Even so, going into Colon's office needed all the courage that the legendary Bishop Horn had shown when entering the city of the Oolites, and everyone knew what they they did to strangers. did to strangers.

Visit climbed down from the loft and made his nervous way to the main building, taking care to walk smartly.

The main office was more or less empty. There seemed to be fewer watchmen around these days. Usually people preferred to loaf indoors in this chilly weather, but suddenly everyone was keen to be out of Captain Colon's view.

Visit went up to the office and knocked on the door.

He knocked again.

When there was no reply he pushed open the door, walked carefully over to the sparkling clean desk and went to tuck the flimsy message under the ink bottle in case it blew away- "Aha!"

The ink soared up as Visit's hand jerked. He had a vision of the blue-black shower pa.s.sing his ear, and heard the splat splat as it hit something behind him. as it hit something behind him.

He turned like an automaton, to see a Captain Colon who would have been white-faced if it weren't for the ink.

"I see see," said Colon. "a.s.sault on a superior officer, eh?"

"It was an accident, Captain!"

"Oh, was it? And why, pray, were you sneaking into my office?"

"I didn't think you were in here, Captain!" Visit gabbled.

"Aha!"

"Sorry?"

"Sneaking a look at my private papers, eh?"

"No, Captain!" Visit rallied a little bit. "Why were you standing behind the door, Captain?"

"Oh? I'm not allowed to stand behind my own door, is that it?"

It was then that Constable Visit made his next mistake. He tried to smile.

"Well, it is is a bit odd, sir-" a bit odd, sir-"

"Are you suggesting there is anything odd odd about me, Constable?" said Captain Colon. "Is there anything about me that you find about me, Constable?" said Captain Colon. "Is there anything about me that you find funny funny?"

Visit stared at the mottled face, speckled with ink.

"Not a thing, sir."

"You've been working acceptably, Constable," said Colon, standing slightly too close to Visit, "and therefore I don't intend to be harsh with you. No one could call me an unfair man. You is demoted to lance-constable, understand? Your pay will be adjusted and backdated to the beginning of the month."

Visit saluted. It was probably the only way to get out of there alive. One of Colon's eyes was twitching.

"However, you could redeem yourself," said Colon, "if you was to tell me who has been stealing, I said stealing stealing, the sugar lumps."

"Sir?"

"I knows knows there was forty-three last night. I counted 'em very thoroughly. There's forty-one this morning, Constable. And they're there was forty-three last night. I counted 'em very thoroughly. There's forty-one this morning, Constable. And they're locked locked in the cupboard. Can you explain that?" in the cupboard. Can you explain that?"

If Visit had been suicidal and honest, he had said: Well, Captain, while of course I think you have many worthy qualities, I have have known you to count your fingers twice and come up with different answers. known you to count your fingers twice and come up with different answers.

"Er...mice?" he said, weakly.

"Hah! Off you go, Lance-Constable, and just you think about what I said!"

When the dejected Visit had gone, Captain Colon sat down at his big, clean desk.

The little flickering part of his brain that was still sparking coherent thought through the fog of mind-numbing terror that filled Colon's head was telling him that he was so far out of his depth that the fish had lights on their noses.

Yes, he did have a clean desk. But that was because he was throwing all the paperwork away.

It wasn't that he was illiterate, but Fred Colon did need a bit of a think and a run-up to tackle anything much longer than a list and he tended to get lost in any word that had more than three syllables. He was, in fact, functionally functionally literate. That is, he thought of reading and writing like he thought about boots-you needed them, but they weren't supposed to be fun, and you got suspicious about people who got a kick out of them. literate. That is, he thought of reading and writing like he thought about boots-you needed them, but they weren't supposed to be fun, and you got suspicious about people who got a kick out of them.

Of course, Mr. Vimes had kept his desk piled high with paperwork, but it occurred to Colon that maybe Vimes and Carrot between them had developed a way of keeping just ahead of the piles, by knowing what was important important and what wasn't. To Colon, it was all gut-wrenchingly mysterious. There were complaints, and memos, and invitations, and letters requesting "a few minutes of your time" and forms to fill in, and reports to read, and sentences containing words like "iniquitous" and "immediate action" and they tottered in his mind like a great big wave, poised to fall on him. and what wasn't. To Colon, it was all gut-wrenchingly mysterious. There were complaints, and memos, and invitations, and letters requesting "a few minutes of your time" and forms to fill in, and reports to read, and sentences containing words like "iniquitous" and "immediate action" and they tottered in his mind like a great big wave, poised to fall on him.

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 decisions!

Lance-Constable Visit walked dejectedly back down to the main office, which had filled up for a watch change.

Everyone was cl.u.s.tered 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 gotten 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 Lance-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 drafty," said Corporal n.o.bbs, a man of little sympathy.

"I mean I have been reduced to Lance-Constable," 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 n.o.bby.

"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." 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," n.o.bby 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 n.o.bby.

One of the dwarfs said something in Dwarfish. There were a few smiles from the shorter watchmen.

"What was that?" said n.o.bby.

"Well, roughly translated," said Stronginthearm, "'My b.u.m has been a b.u.m 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 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 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 no, Sergeant Colon, wouldn't dream dream of seeing you pay.' They used to lay the table when they saw him turn the corner." 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 n.o.bby.

"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 years and he owes me a favor." and he owes me a favor."

"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 him, and I can stop worrying," said Reg.

"Corporal n.o.bbs!"

"He listens at the door, I'll swear he does," said Stronginthearm. "I'm off."

"Coming, Captain!" shouted n.o.bby. 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, n.o.bby. Breaks my heart to see you throwin' it all away to become a really bad waitress."

"Ha ha ha," said n.o.bby. "Just you wait, that's all I'm saying." He raised his voice. "Coming right now, Captain!"