"Exactly. And, of course, we"re down one sergeant at the Yard now," said Nobby.
"Good point, Nobby. It"s going to be busy."
They walked on for a while.
"You could promote someone," Nobby prompted.
"Could I?"
"What good"s being the boss if you can"t?"
"That"s true. And it"s sort of an emergency. Hmm... any thoughts, Nobby?"
Nobby sighed inwardly. A penny could drop through wet cement faster than it could drop for Fred Colon.
"A name springs to mind," he said.
"Ah, right. Yes. Reg Shoe, right? Good at writing, a keen thinker, and of course he"s cool headed," said Colon. "Icy, practically."
"But a bit on the dead side," said Nobby.
"Yes, I suppose that counts against him."
"And he goes to pieces unpredictably," said Nobby.
"That"s true," said Captain Colon. "No one likes shaking hands and ending up with more fingers than they started with."
"So p"raps it might be best to consider someone who has been unreasonably overlooked," said Nobby, going for broke. "Someone whose face dunt fit, p"raps. Someone whose experience in the Watch genially and in Traffic in particular could be of great service to the city if people wouldn"t go on about one or two lapses which didn"t happen in any case."
The dawn of intelligence rose across the vistas of Colon"s face.
"Ah," he said. "I see. Well, why didn"t you come right out with that at the start, Nobby?"
"Well, it"s your decision, Fred... I mean, Captain," said Nobby earnestly.
"But s"posing Mister Vimes doesn"t agree? He"ll be back in a couple of weeks."
"That"ll be long enough," said Nobby.
"And you don"t mind?"
"Me? Mind? Not me. You know me, Fred, always ready to do my bit."
"Nobby?"
"Yes, Fred?"
"The dress..."
"Yes, Fred?"
"I thought we weren"t doing the... traffic calming any more?"
"Yes, Fred. But I thought I"d keep it on ready to swing into action just in case you decided that we should."
A chilly wind blew across the cabbage fields.
To Gaspode it brought, besides the overpowering fumes of the cabbage and the dark red smell of the dung carts, hints of pine, mountains, snow, sweat and stale cigar smoke. The last came from the cart men"s habit of smoking large, cheap cigars. They kept the flies off.