‘And, incidentally, tomato ketchup is not a vegetable,’ Sybil added. ‘Not even the dried stuff round the top of the bottle. Well, what are you all waiting around for?’
‘There is something I didn’t want to mention in front of her ladyship,’ said Carrot, as they hurried down to the Yard. ‘Er, Hitherto is dead, sir.’
‘Who’s Hitherto?’
‘Lance-Constable Horace Hitherto, sir? Got walloped on the back of the head last night? When we were at that meeting? When there was that, er, “disturbance”? Got sent to the Free Hospital?’
‘Oh, gods…’ said Vimes. ‘It seems like a week ago. He’d only been with us a couple of months!’
‘They said at the hospital his brain died, sir. I’m sure they did their best.’
Did we do ours? Vimes wondered. But it was a bloody mêlée, and the cobblestone came out of nowhere. Could have hit me, could have hit Carrot. Hit a kid, instead. What’ll I tell his parents? Killed while doing his duty? But his duty shouldn’t have been to stop one lot of idiot citizens murdering another lot of idiot citizens.
It’s all got out of hand. There aren’t enough of us. And now there’s a few less.
‘I’ll go and see his mum and dad tomor—’ he began, and his sluggish memory shifted at last. ‘Does— Didn’t he have a brother in the Watch?’
‘Yessir,’ said Carrot. ‘Lance-Constable Hector Hitherto, sir. They joined together. He’s down at Chittling Street.’
‘Then get hold of his sergeant and tell him Hector is not allowed on the street tonight, okay? I want him introduced to the joys of filing. In a cellar, if possible. And wearing a very thick helmet.’
‘I understand, sir,’ said Carrot.
‘How’s Angua?’
‘I think she’ll be fine after having a lie-down, sir. The mine really got to her.’
‘I’m really, really sorry about that—’ Sally began.
‘Not your fault, lance-constable… Sally,’ said Vimes. ‘It was mine. I know about the vampire and werewolf thing, but I needed you both to be down there. It’s just one of those decisions, okay? I suggest you take the evening off. No, that’s an order. You’ve done very well on your first day. Off you go. Get your head down… or whatever.’
They watched her out of sight before continuing down the street.
‘She is very good, sir,’ said Carrot. ‘She picks things up fast.’
‘Yes, very fast. I can see she’s going to be useful,’ said Vimes thoughtfully. ‘Doesn’t that strike you as odd, captain? Up she pops, just when we need her.’
‘She has been in Ankh-Morpork for a couple of months, though,’ said Carrot. ‘And the League vouches for her.’
‘A couple of months is about the same time as Hamcrusher’s been here too,’ said Vimes. ‘And if you wanted to find things out, we’re not a bad outfit to join. We’re official prodnoses.’
‘Sir, you don’t think—’
‘Oh, I’m sure she’s a Black Ribboner, but I don’t think a vampire comes all the way from Uberwald to play the cello. Still, as you say, she does a good job.’ Vimes stared at nothing for a moment and then said thoughtfully, ‘Doesn’t one of our Specials work for the clacks company?’
‘That’d be Andy Hancock, sir,’ said Carrot.
‘Oh gods. You mean “Two Swords”?’
‘That’s him, sir. Very keen lad.’
‘Yes, I saw the dockets. Normally a training dummy lasts for months, captain. You’re not supposed to chop through three in half an hour!’
‘He’ll be down at the Yard now, sir. Do you want a word with him?’ said Carrot.
‘No. You have a word with him.’
Vimes lowered his voice. So did Carrot. There was whispering. Then Carrot said, ‘Is that strictly legal, sir?’
‘I don’t see how. Let’s find out, shall we? We haven’t had this little conversation, captain.’
‘Understood, sir.’
Ye gods, it was so much better when there were just four of us up against that bloody great dragon, Vimes thought as they walked on. Of course, we nearly got burned alive a few times, but at least it wasn’t complicated. It was a damn great dragon. You could see it coming. It didn’t get political on you.
It had started to rain a fine invasive rain by the time they arrived at Pseudopolis Yard. Vimes had, with extreme reluctance, to hand it to Carrot. He certainly could organize. The place was bustling. Wagon-loads of yellow and black barricades were being trundled out of the old lemonade factory. Watchmen were pouring in from every street.
‘I really pushed the boat out on this one, sir,’ said Carrot. ‘I thought it was important.’
‘Well done, captain,’ said Vimes, as they stood like islands in the flood. ‘But I think there is a little matter of forward planning you may have overlooked…’
‘Really, sir? I think I’ve covered everything,’ said Carrot, looking puzzled.
Vimes slapped him on the back.
‘Probably not this one,’ he said. And added, but only to himself: because you, captain, are not a bastard.
Bewildered and aimless, the troll wanders through the world…
Brick’s head really gonged. He really didn’t want to be doing dis, but he’d fallen into bad company. He often fell into bad company, he reflected, although sometimes he had to look all day to find it, ’cos Brick was a loser’s loser. A troll without a clan or a gang, and who is considered thick even by other trolls, has to take any bad company he can find. In this case he’d met Totally Slag an’ Hardcore an’ Big Marble, an’ it had been easier to fall in wi’ dem than decide not to, an’ dey’d met up wi’ more trolls an’ now…
Look at it like dis, he thought as he trudged along, singing gang songs a bit behind the beat because he didn’t know the words… All right, being in der middle of dis mob o’ trolls ain’t ‘lyin’ low’, dat is a fact. But Totally Slag had said the word wuz that the Watch wuz also after the troll who’d been down dat mine, right? An’, if you fink about it, the best place to hide a troll, right, is in a big bunch of trolls. ’Cos the Watch’d be pokin’ around in der cellars where der real mean trollz hung out, they wouldn’t be lookin’ here. An’ if they did, an’ were puttin’ the finger on him, then all dese brother trolls would help him out.
He wasn’t too certain about that last bit, in his heart of hearts. His possibly negative IQ, complete absence of street cred and, above all, his permanent inclination to snort, suck, swallow or bite anything that promised to make his brain sparkle, meant that he had been turned down even by the Tenth Egg Street Can’t-fink-of-a-name Gang, rumoured to be so dense that one of their members was a lump of concrete on a piece of string. No, it would be hard to imagine any troll caring much what happened to Brick. But right now dey were brothers, and der only game in town.
He nudged the skull-necklaced, graffiti-ornamented, lichen-covered, huge-club-dragging troll marching stoically alongside him.
‘Resplect, bro!’ he said, clenching a scabby fist.
‘Why’nt you go and ghuhg yerself, Brick, you little piece of coprolite…’ the troll muttered.
‘Right off!’ said Brick.
The main office was packed but Vimes fought his way through by shoving and shouting until he reached the duty desk, which was under siege.
‘It looks worse than it is, sir!’ shouted Cheery, over the din. ‘Detritus and Constable Bluejohn are in the Cham right now, along with all three golem officers! We’ve started putting the line in place! Both the mobs are too busy getting themselves worked up!’