Night Watch

you’ll know what trouble is , ’cos everything up until then will look like a bleedin’ day at the soddin’ seaside. Understand?”
    Fred Colon goggled at him. There was no other word for it.
    “Don’t let my sugary-sweet tones lead you to believe that I’m not damn well giving you orders,” said Vimes, turning away. “Vimes?”
    “Yes, Sarge?” said young Sam.
    “Have we got a saw in this place?”
    Snouty stepped forward. “I’ve got a toolbox, Sarge.”
    “Nails, too?”
    “Yessir!”
    “Right. Rip the door off my locker and hammer a lot of nails right through it, will you? Then put it on the upstairs landing. I’ll take the saw, ’cos I’m going to the privy.”
    After the silence that followed, Corporal Colon obviously felt he had to make a contribution. He cleared his throat and said, “If you’ve got a problem in that area, Sarge, Mrs. Colon’s got a wonderful medicine she—”
    “I won’t be long,” said Vimes. In fact, he was four minutes.
    “All done,” he said, returning to the sound of hammering from the locker room. “Come with me, Lance Constable. Time for a lesson in interrogation. Oh…and bring the toolbox.”
    “Fred and Waddy don’t like being outside,” said Sam, as they went down the stone steps. “They say what if that bunch of Unmentionables turn up?”
    “They needn’t worry. Our friends at Cable Street are not front-door kind of people.”
    He pushed open the door to the cells. The prisoner stood up and grabbed the bars.
    “Okay, they’ve come, now you let me out,” he said. “Come on, and I’ll put in a good word for you.”
    “No one’s come for you, sir,” said Vimes. He locked the main door behind him, and then unlocked the cell.
    “It’s probably a busy time for them,” he added. “Been a bit of a riot over in Dolly Sisters. A few deaths. Might be a while before they get around to you.”
    The man eyed the toolbox that the lance constable was holding. It was only a flicker, but Vimes saw the moment of uncertainty.
    “I get it,” the prisoner said. “Good Cop, Bad Cop, eh?”
    “If you like,” said Vimes. “But we’re a bit short-staffed, so if I give you a cigarette, would you mind kicking yourself in the teeth?”
    “Look, this is a game, right?” said the prisoner. “You know I’m one of the Particulars. And you’re new in town and want to impress us. Well, you have. Big laugh all round, haha. Anyway, I was only on stakeout.”
    “Yes, but that’s not how it works, is it,” said Vimes. “Now we’ve got you, we can decide what you’re guilty of. You know how it’s done. Fancy a ginger beer?”
    The man’s face froze.
    “Y’know,” said Vimes, “it turns out that after the riot this evening we’ve been warned to expect revolutionary attacks on the Watch Houses. Now, personally, I wouldn’t expect that. What I’d expect is a bunch of ordinary people turning up, you know, because they’ve heard what happened. But—and you can call me Mr. Suspicious if you like—I’ve got a feeling that there will be something a bit worse. You see, apparently we’ve got to be mindful of the curfew regulations. What that means, I suppose, is that if we get people coming to complain about unarmed citizens being attacked by soldiers, which, personally, I would consider to be Assault With A Deadly Weapon, we’ve got to arrest them. I find that rather—”
    There was a commotion from above. Vimes nodded to young Sam, who disappeared up the stairs.
    “Now that my impressionable assistant has gone,” said Vimes quietly, “I’ll add that if any of my men get hurt tonight then I’ll see to it that for the rest of your life you scream at the sight of a bottle.”
    “I haven’t done anything to you! You don’t even know me!”
    “Yes. Like I said, we’re doing it your way,” said Vimes.
    Sam reappeared, in a hurry.
    “Someone’s fallen in the privy!” he announced. “They were climbing on the roof and it gave way!”
    “It must be one of those revolutionary elements,” said Vimes, watching the prisoner’s face. “We’ve been warned about them.”
    “He says he’s from Cable Street, Sarge!”
    “That’s just the kind of thing I’d say, if I was a revolutionary element,” said Vimes. “All right, let’s take a look at him.”
    Upstairs, the front door was still open. There were a few people outside, just visible in the lamplight. There was also Sergeant Knock inside, and he was not happy.
    “Who said we open