Night Watch

horse eating that much ought to be approximately spherical. Instead, she’s so thin that with two sticks and some sheet music I could give you a tune.”
    Vimes put the papers down.
    “Don’t think I don’t know where the feed goes. I bet I know who’s got the chickens and rabbits and pigeons,” he said. “And the pig. I bet the captain thinks they get fat on leftovers.”
    “Yeah, but—” a voice began.
    Vimes’s hand slammed on the desk.
    “You even starve the damn horse!” he said. “That stops right now! So will a lot of other things. I know how it works, see? Mumping free beer and a doughnut, well, that’s part of being a copper. And who knows, there might even be a few greasy spoons in this town so happy to see a copper that they will spontaneously offer him a free nosh. Stranger things have happened. But nicking the oats from Marilyn, that stops now. And another thing. Says here that last night the hurry-up wagon had eight passengers,” he said. “Two of them I know about, ’cos one of them must’ve been me, and I met the other man. The cells are empty this morning. What happened to the other six? Sergeant Knock?”
    The sergeant licked his lips nervously.
    “Dropped ’em off in Cable Street for questioning, o’course,” he said. “As per instructions.”
    “Did you get a receipt?”
    “A what?”
    “Your men hauled in six people who were staying out late and you handed them over to the Unmentionables,” said Vimes with the calm that comes before a storm. “Did they sign for them? Do you even know their names?”
    “Orders is just to hand ’em over,” said Knock, trying a little defiance. “Hand ’em over and come away.”
    Vimes filed that for future reference and said: “Now, I didn’t get taken there ’cos we had a bit of a…misunderstanding. And, as you can see, it was a bigger misunderstanding than you thought, because I’m not down in the Tanty counting cockroaches, Knock. No, indeed.” He took a few steps forward. “I am standing in front of you, Knock. Isn’t that what I’m doing?”
    “Yes, Sarge,” Knock muttered, pale with fear and fury.
    “Yes, Sarge,” said Vimes. “But there was another man in the cells, and he’s gone, too. All I want to know is: how much, and who to? I don’t want any looks of cherubic innocence, I don’t want any ‘don’t know what you’re talking about, sir,’ I just want to know: how much, and who to?”
    A cloud of red, resentful solidarity settled over the faces in front of him. But he didn’t need telling. He could remember. Corporal Quirke always had a private income from bribes; he’d been like Nobby Nobbs without the latter’s amiable incompetence. An efficient Nobby, in fact, and you could throw into the mix bullying and brownnosing and a delight in small evils.
    Vimes’s gaze fell on Quirke and stayed there.
    “I know you were on the wagon last night, Corporal,” he said. “You and lance constable, er, Vimes, it says here.”
    “Not worth worrying anyone if they look a decent sort,” Quirke said.
    And he’d said: “How can we tell they’re a decent sort, Corp?”
    “Well, see how much they can afford.”
    “You mean we let ’em go if they’re rich?”
    “Way of the world, lad, way of the world. No reason why we shouldn’t get our share, eh? Did you see his moneybag? Five dollars should do it. Four for me and one for you, ’cos you’re learning. That’s nearly three days’ pay, it’ll cheer up your ol’ mum no end, and where’s the loser?”
    “But suppose he’s nicked the money, Corp?”
    “Suppose the moon was made of cheese? Would you like a slice?”
    “I think it was five dollars, Corporal,” said Vimes and watched the man’s lizard eyes flash toward the young lance constable.
    “No, the man in the cell talked,” lied Vimes. “Told me I was an idiot not to buy my way out. So, Mister Quirke, it’s like this. They’re crying out for good men in the Day Watch, but if you don’t stand too close to the light you might pass. Get along there right now!”
    “Everybody does it!” Quirke burst out. “It’s perks !”
    “Everybody?” said Vimes. He looked around at the squad. “Anyone else here take bribes?”
    His glare ran from face to face, causing most of the squad to do an immediate impression of the Floorboard and Ceiling Inspectors Synchronized Observation Team. Only three members met his gaze. There was Constable Colon, who could be a little slow. There was a certain