Night Watch

pushed a piece of paper across to him. He glanced at it, and recalled.
    “One of my captains was down there this afternoon and said everything was under control,” he said.
    “Really? Whose control?” said Carcer. He leaned back in his chair and put his boots on the desk.
    The major stared at them, but the boots showed no sign of embarrassment.
    “Remove your feet from my desk,” he said coldly.
    Carcer’s eyes narrowed.
    “You an’ whose army?” he said.
    “Mine, as a matter of fact…”
    The major looked into Carcer’s eyes, and wished he hadn’t. Mad. He’d seen eyes like that on the battlefield.
    Very slowly, with exaggerated care, Carcer swung his feet off the table. Then he pulled out a handkerchief made grimy with unguessable humors, huffed theatrically on the wood, and polished it industriously.
    “I do beg your pardon so very much,” he said. “However, while you gentlemen have been keeping your desk nice and clean, a canker, as they say, haha, is eating at the very heart of the city. Has anyone told you that the Cable Street Watch House has been burned to the ground? With, we believe, the loss of the lives of poor Captain Swing and at least one of our…technical people.”
    “Swing, bigods,” said Captain Wrangle.
    “That is what I said. All the scum your lads have been driving out of Dolly Sisters and all the other nests, well, they’ve ended up down there.”
    The major looked at the report. “But our patrol said that everything seemed to be in hand, the Watch were very visible on the streets, and people were showing the flag and singing the national anthem,” he said.
    “There you are, then,” said Carcer. “Do you ever sing the national anthem in the street, Major?”
    “Well, no—”
    “Who did his lordship send down there?” said Wrangle.
    Major Mountjoy-Standfast thumbed through his papers. His face fell.
    “Rust,” he said.
    “Oh dear. That’s a blow.”
    “I daresay the man is dead,” said Carcer, and the major tried not to look slightly more cheerful. “The person in charge down there now calls himself Sergeant Keel. But he is an impostor. The real Keel is in the mortuary.”
    “How do you know all this?” said the major.
    “We in the Particulars have ways of finding things out,” said Carcer.
    “I’ve heard,” murmured the captain.
    “Martial law, gentlemen, means that the military comes to the aid of the civil power,” said Carcer. “And that’s me, right now. O’course, you could send a couple of runners up to the ball, but I don’t reckon that would be a good career move. So what I’m asking is for your men to assist us with a little…surgical strike.”
    The major stared at him. There was now no limit to the distaste he had for Carcer. But he hadn’t been a major for very long, and when you’ve just been promoted you hope to stay that way long enough for the braid to get a tarnish.
    He forced himself to smile.
    “You and your men have had a long day, Sergeant,” he said. “Why don’t you go along to the mess tent while I consult with my fellow officers?”
    Carcer moved with a suddenness that made the major flinch. The sergeant stood up, and then leaned forward with his knuckles on the desk.
    “You do that, Sunny Jim,” he said with a grin like the edge of a rusty saw. Then he turned and strode out into the night.
    In the silence that followed, the captain said, “His name is on the list of officers that Swing sent us yesterday, I’m afraid. And, er, he’s technically correct about the law.”
    “You mean we have to take orders from him?”
    “No. But he’s entitled to request assistance from you.”
    “Am I entitled to refuse?”
    “Oh, yes. Of course. But…”
    “…I’d have to tell his lordship why?” said the major.
    “Exactly.”
    “But that man’s an evil bastard! You know the sort. The kind that joins up for the pillaging? The kind you have to end up hanging as an example to the men?”
    “Um…” said Captain Wrangle.
    “What now?”
    “Well, he’s right about one thing. I’ve been looking at the reports and, well, it’s odd. It’s all been very quiet down toward Treacle Mine Road.”
    “That’s good, isn’t it?”
    “It’s unbelievable, Clive, when you put it all together. Even the Watch House didn’t get attacked, it says here. Er…and your Captain Burns says he met this Keel chap, or someone who said he was Keel, and he says that if the man’s a Watch sergeant then he, Burns, is a