Night Watch - Terry Pratchett [56]
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’m 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 break-in 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 weren’t. Must’ve been a copper what done it!”
Vimes was amazed at the forensic expertise shown here.
“My word, a copper stealing?” said Vimes.
“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. This really is very…upsetting.”
“A man’d have to be a right bastard to steal something like that, eh, Sergeant?” said Knock.
“Absolutely,” said Vimes. “I see you’re pretty well organized on this one, Sergeant. Have you looked everywhere?”
“Everywhere except the lockers,” said Knock. “That’s not something we’d do lightly, rummaging through a man’s locker. But we’re all here now, and Captain Tilden’s here to see fair play, so, although it’s very distasteful, I’ll ask you, Captain, for permission to rummage.”
“Yes, yes, if you must,” said Tilden. “I don’t like the idea. It is really quite dishonorable, you know.”
“Then I think, sir, to show that we’re doing this fairly,” said Knock, “us sergeants ought to be searched first. That way no one can say we don’t take it seriously.”
“Come now, Sergeant,” said Tilden with a little smile. “I hardly think you are suspected.”
“No, sir, fair’s fair,” said Knock. “We’ll set a good example, eh, Sergeant Keel?”
Vimes shrugged. Knock grinned at him, pulled out a bundle of keys, and beckoned to Lance Corporal Coates.
“You do the honors, Ned,” he said, beaming. “Me first, o’course.”
The door was unlocked. The contents of Knock’s locker were the usual unsavory mess of lockers everywhere, but there certainly was no silver inkstand. If there was, it would have turned black after a single day.
“Well done. Now Sergeant Keel’s, please, Ned.”
Knock’s friendly beam fixed on Vimes, and the policeman fumbled with the lock. Vimes stared back, face blank as a slate, as the door creaked open.
“Oh dear, what have we here?” said Knock without even bothering to look.
“It’s a sack, Sarge,” said Coates. “Something heavy in it, too.”
“Oh dear me,” said Knock, still staring at Vimes. “Open it up, lad. Gently. We don’t want anything to get damaged,