"Oh, you know, sir," said Sally, radiating innocence. "A bit of a laugh, a bit of fun. No harm done, eh?"
The captain appeared to consider this.
"We"ll leave it at that, then," he said. "Now, lance-corporal, have you ever seen a dead body?"
Sally waited to see if he was serious. Apparently, he was. "Strictly speaking, no, sir," she said.
Vimes fretted through the afternoon. There was, of course, the paperwork. There was always the paperwork. The trays were only the start. Heaps of it were ranged accusingly along one wall, and gently merging.[1] He knew that he had to do it. Warrants, dockets, Watch Orders, signatures - that was what made the Watch a police force rather than just a bunch of rather rough fellows with inquisitive habits. Paperwork: you had to have lots of it, and it had to be signed by him.
He signed the arrests book, the occurrences book, even the lost property book. Lost property book! They"d never had one of those in the old days. If someone turned up complaining that they"d lost some small item, you just held Nobby Nobbs upside down and sorted through what dropped out.
But he didn"t know two thirds of the coppers he employed now - not know, in the sense of knowing when they"d stand and when they"d run, knowing the little giveaways that"d tell him when they were lying or scared witless. It wasn"t really his Watch any more. It was the city"s Watch. He just ran it.
He went through the Station Sergeant"s reports, the Watch Officers" reports, the Sick reports, the Disciplinary reports, the Petty Cash reports
"Duddle-dum-duddle-dum-duddle-" ;Well, ours don"t," said Vimes. "But murder is murder anywhere. The news has got out. You"ve already got the dwarfs and the trolls simmering nicely, and this will bring it all right to the boil. Do you want a war?"
"With the trolls? That is-"
"No, with the city. A place inside the walls where the law doesn"t run? His lordship won"t accept that one."
"You would not dare!"
"Look into my eyes," said Vimes.
"There are far more dwarfs than there are watchmen," said Ardent, but the amused expression had fled.
"So what you are telling me is that law is just a matter of numbers?" said Vimes. "I thought you dwarfs practically worshipped the idea of law. Is numbers all it is? I"ll swear in more men, then. Trolls, too. They"re citizens, just like me. Are you sure every dwarf is on your side? I"ll raise the regiments. I"ll have to. I know how things run in Llamedos and Uberwald, but they don"t run like that here. One law, Mr Ardent. That"s what we"ve got. If I let people slam their front door on it, I might as well shut down the Watch."
Vimes walked to the doorway. "That"s my offer. Now I"m going back to the Yard-"
"Wait!"
Ardent sat staring at the desktop, drumming his fingers on it.
"I do not have ... seniority here," he said.
"Let me talk to your grags. I promise to rub out no words."
"No. They will not talk to you. They do not talk to humans. They are waiting below. They had word of your arrival. They are frightened. They do not trust humans."
Why?
"Because you are not dwarfs," said Ardent. "Because you are ... a sort of dream."
Vimes put his hands on the dwarf"s shoulders. "Then let"s go
downstairs, where you can talk to them about nightmares," he said,
and you can point out which one is me."
There was a long silence until Ardent said, "Very well. This is
under protest, you understand."
"I"ll be happy to make a note of that," said Vimes. "Thank you for
your co-operative attitude."