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Thud! - A Novel Of Discworld Part 5

Thud! - A Novel Of Discworld - LightNovelsOnl.com

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"So...'Sally'...you want to be a copper?" said Vimes.

"A policeman? Yes."

"Any history of policing in your family?" said Vimes. It was a standard opening question. It always helped if they'd inherited some idea about coppering.

"No, just the throat biting," said Sally.

There was another pause.



Vimes sighed.

"Look, I just want to know one thing," he said. "Did John Not-A-Vampire-At-All Smith and Doreen Winkings put you up to this?"

"No!" said Sally. "I approached them. And if it's any help to you, I didn't think there'd be all this fuss, either."

Vimes looked surprised.

"But you applied applied to join," he said. to join," he said.

"Yes, but I don't see why there has to be all this...interest!"

"Don't blame me. That was your League of Temperance."

"Really? Your Your Lord Vetinari was quoted in the newspaper," said Sally. "All that stuff about the lack of species discrimination being in the finest traditions of the Watch." Lord Vetinari was quoted in the newspaper," said Sally. "All that stuff about the lack of species discrimination being in the finest traditions of the Watch."

"Hah!" said Vimes. "Well, it's true that a copper's a copper, as far as I'm concerned, but the fine traditions of the Watch, Miss von Humpeding, largely consist of finding somewhere out of the rain, mumping for free beer 'round the backs of pubs, and always keeping two notebooks!"

"You don't want me, then?" said Sally. "I thought you needed all the recruits you could get. Look, I'm probably stronger than anyone on your payroll who isn't a troll, I'm quite clever, I don't mind hard work, and I've got excellent excellent night vision. I can be useful. I night vision. I can be useful. I want want to be useful." to be useful."

"Can you turn into a bat?"

She looked shocked. "What? What kind of question is that that to ask me?" to ask me?"

"Probably among the less tricky ones," said Vimes. "Besides, it might be be useful. Can you?" useful. Can you?"

"No."

"Oh, well, never mind-"

"I can turn into a lot lot of bats," said Sally. "One bat is hard to do, because you have to deal with changes in body ma.s.s, and you can't do that if you've been Reformed for a while. Anyway, it gives me a headache." of bats," said Sally. "One bat is hard to do, because you have to deal with changes in body ma.s.s, and you can't do that if you've been Reformed for a while. Anyway, it gives me a headache."

"What was your last job?"

"Didn't have one. I was a musician."

Vimes brightened up.

"Really? Some of the lads have been talking about setting up a Watch band."

"Could they use a cello?"

"Probably not."

Vimes drummed his fingers on his desk. Well, she hadn't gone for his throat yet, had she? That was the problem, of course. Vampires were fine right up until the point where, suddenly, they weren't. But, in truth, right now, he had to admit it: he needed anyone who could stand upright and finish a sentence. This d.a.m.n business was taking its toll. He needed men out there all the time, just to keep the lid on things. Oh, right now it was just scuffles and stone throwing and breaking windows and running away, but all that stuff added up, like snowflakes on an avalanche slope. People needed to see coppers at a time like this. They gave the illusion that the whole world hadn't gone insane.

And the Temperance League was pretty good and very supportive of its members. It was in the interests of all members that no one found themselves standing in a strange bedroom with an embarra.s.singly full feeling. They'd be watching her...

"We've got no room for pa.s.sengers in the Watch," he said. "We're too pressed right now to give you any more than what is laughingly known as on-the-job training, but you'll be on the streets from day one...er, how are are you with the daylight thing?" you with the daylight thing?"

"I'm fine with long sleeves and a wide brim. I carry the kit, anyway."

Vimes nodded. A small dustpan and brush, a vial of animal blood, and a small card saying: Help, I have crumbled and I can't get up. Please sweep me into a heap and crush vial. I am a Black Ribb.o.n.e.r and will not harm you. Thanking you in advance.

His fingers rattled on the desktop again. She returned his stare.

"All right, you're in," Vimes said at last. "On probation, to start with. Everyone starts that way. Sort out the paperwork with Sergeant Littlebottom downstairs, report to Sergeant Detritus for your gear and orientation lecture, and try not to laugh. And now you've got what you want, and we're not being official...tell me why."

"Pardon?" said Sally.

"A vampire wanting to be a copper?" said Vimes, leaning back in his chair. "I can't quite make that fit, 'Sally.' "

"I thought it would be an interesting job in the fresh air, which would offer opportunities to help people, Commander Vimes."

"Hmm," said Vimes. "If you can say that without smiling, you might make a copper after all. Welcome to the job, lance constable. I hope you have-"

The door slammed. Captain Carrot took two steps into the room, saw Sally, and hesitated.

"Lance Constable von Humpeding has just joined us, Captain," said Vimes.

"Er...fine...h.e.l.lo, miss," said Carrot quickly, and turned to Vimes. "Sir, someone's killed Hamcrusher!"

Ankh-Morpork's Finest strolled back down toward the Yard. strolled back down toward the Yard.

"What I'd I'd do," said n.o.bby, "is cut the painting up into little bits, like, oh, a few inches across?" do," said n.o.bby, "is cut the painting up into little bits, like, oh, a few inches across?"

"That's diamonds, n.o.bby. It's how you get rid of stolen diamonds."

"All right, then, how about this one? You cut the muriel up into bits the size of ordinary paintings, okay? Then you paint a painting on the other side of each one, an' put 'em in frames, an' leave 'em around the place. No one will notice extra paintings, right? An' then you can go an' pinch 'em when the fuss has died down."

"And how do you get them them out, n.o.bby?" out, n.o.bby?"

"Well, first you get some glue, and a really long stick, and-"

Fred Colon shook his head. "Can't see it happening, n.o.bby."

"All right, then, you get some paint that's the same color as the walls, and you glue the painting to the wall somewhere it'll fit, and you paint over it with your wall paint so it looks just like the wall."

"Got a convenient bit of wall in mind, then?"

"How about inside the frame that's there already, Sarge?"

"b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l, n.o.bby, that's clever," said Fred, stopping dead.

"Thank you, Sarge. That means a lot, coming from you."

"But you've still got to get it out, n.o.bby."

"Remember all those dust sheets, Sarge? I bet in a few weeks' time a couple of blokes in overalls will be able to walk out of the place with a big white roll under their arms and no one'd think twice about it, 'cos they'd, like, be thinkin' the muriel had been pinched weeks before."

There were a few moments of silence before Sergeant Colon said, in a hushed voice: "That's a very dangerous mind you got there, n.o.bby. Very dangerous indeed. How'd you get the new paint off, though?"

"Oh, that's easy," said n.o.bby. "And I know where to get some painters' ap.r.o.ns, too."

"n.o.bby!" said Fred, shocked.

"All right, Sarge. You can't blame a man for dreaming, though."

"This could be a feather in our caps, n.o.bby. And we could do with one now."

"Your water playing up again, Sarge?"

"You may laugh, n.o.bby, but you've only got to look around," said Fred gloomily. "It's just gang fights now, but it's going to get worse, you mark my words. All this sc.r.a.pping over something that happened thousands of years ago! I don't know why they don't get back to where they came from if they want to do that!"

"Most of 'em come from here now," observed n.o.bby.

Fred grunted his disdain for a mere fact of geography.

"War, n.o.bby. Huh! What is it good for?" he said.

"Dunno, Sarge. Freeing slaves, maybe?"

"Absol-well, okay."

"Defending yourself against a totalitarian aggressor?"

"All right, I'll grant you that, but-"

"Saving civilization from a horde of-"

"It doesn't do any good in the long run is what I'm saying, n.o.bby, if you'd listen for five seconds together," said Fred Colon sharply.

"Yeah, but in the long run, what does, Sarge?"

"Say that again, paying attention to every word, will paying attention to every word, will you?" said Vimes. you?" said Vimes.

"He's dead, sir. Hamcrusher is dead. The dwarfs are sure of it."

Vimes stared at his captain. Then he glanced at Sally and said: "I gave you an order, Lance Constable von Humpeding. Go and get joined up!"

When the girl had hurried out, he said: "I hope you're sure about it as well, Captain..."

"It's spreading through the dwarfs like, like-" Carrot began.

"Alcohol?" Vimes suggested.

"Very fast, anyway," Carrot conceded. "Last night, they say. A troll got into his place in Treacle Street and beat him to death. I heard some of the lads talking about it."

"Carrot, wouldn't we know know if something like that had happened?" said Vimes, but in theater of his mind, Angua and Fred Colon uttered their ca.s.sandraic warnings again. if something like that had happened?" said Vimes, but in theater of his mind, Angua and Fred Colon uttered their ca.s.sandraic warnings again. The dwarfs knew something. The dwarfs were worried. The dwarfs knew something. The dwarfs were worried.

"Don't we, sir?" said Carrot. "I mean, I've just told you."

"Why aren't his people shouting it in the streets? Political a.s.sa.s.sination and all that sort of thing? Shouldn't they be screaming b.l.o.o.d.y murder? Who told you this?"

"Constable Ironbender and Corporal Ringfounder, sir. They're steady lads. Ringfounder's up for sergeant soon. Er...there was something else, sir. I did ask them why we hadn't heard officially, and Ironbender said...you won't like this, sir...he said the Watch wasn't to be told." Carrot watched Vimes carefully. It was hard to see the change of expression on the commander's face, but certain small muscles set firmly.

"On whose orders?" said Vimes.

"Someone called Ardent, apparently. He's Hamcrusher's...interpreter, I suppose you could say. He says it's dwarf business."

"But this is Ankh-Morpork, Captain. And murder is Murder."

"Yes, sir."

"And we are the City Watch," Vimes went on. "It says so on the door."

"Actually, it mostly says COPERS ARE BARSTUDS COPERS ARE BARSTUDS on the door at the moment, but I've got someone scrubbing it off," said Carrot. "And I-" on the door at the moment, but I've got someone scrubbing it off," said Carrot. "And I-"

"That means if anyone gets murdered, we're responsible," said Vimes.

"I know what you mean, sir," said Carrot carefully.

"Does Vetinari know?"

"I can't imagine that he doesn't."

"Me neither." Vimes thought for a moment. "What about the Times Times? There's plenty of dwarfs working there."

"I'd be surprised if they pa.s.sed it on to humans, sir. I only got to hear about it because I'm a dwarf, and Ironbender really wants to make sergeant, and, frankly, I overheard them, but I doubt if the printing dwarfs would mention it to the editor."

"Are you telling me, Captain, that dwarfs in the Watch would keep a murder secret secret?"

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