Unseen Academicals

sometimes, but it’s generally possible to spot the clues. The profession has always tended to consider walking about to be among the more reliable, although in this city we’ve learned to look on that as just a very good start. But when we pulled back the sheet he sat up and asked Igor if he had a sandwich, which is generally conclusive. Apart from a fever, he was fine. Strong heartbeat, which suggests he’s got one. Not a scratch on him, but he could certainly do with a good dinner. He must have been hungry because he ate the sandwich Igor made for him. On the subject of dinners, frankly I could do with mine!’
    ‘You let him go?’ said Sergeant Angua, horrified.
    ‘Of course! I can’t keep a man in hospital for being inconveniently alive!’
    She turned to Constable Haddock. ‘And you let him go, Kipper?’
    ‘It looked like a case of doctor’s orders, sarge,’ said Haddock, giving Trev a wretched look.
    ‘He was covered in blood! He was really messed up!’ Trev exploded.
    ‘A prank, then?’ Angua tried.
    ‘I’d have sworn there wasn’t a heartbeat, Sergeant,’ Haddock volunteered. ‘Maybe he’s one of those monks from the Hub that do the hocus-pocus stuff.’
    ‘Then someone has been wasting Watch time,’ said Angua, glaring at Trev.
    He spotted that one for the desperate throw it was. ‘What would be in it for me?’ he said. ‘Do you think I want to be here?’
    Constable Haddock cleared his throat. ‘It’s match night, sarge. The desk is heaving and there are supporters roaming around all over the place and someone’s been feeding them a lot of rumours. We’re stretched, that’s all I’m saying. We’ve had a couple of big shouts already. And he did walk away, after all.’
    ‘Not a problem for me,’ said the doctor. ‘Came in horizontal, went out upright. It’s the preferred way. And I’ve got to get back, sergeant. We’re going to have a busy night, too.’
    The sergeant looked for someone to shout at, and there was Trev.
    ‘You! Trev Likely. This one’s down to you! Go and find your chum. And if there’s any more trouble, there’ll be…trouble. Is that clear?’
    ‘Twice, sarge.’ He couldn’t resist it, he just couldn’t, not even with the cold sweat rolling down his spine. But he felt light…uplifted…released. But some people just can’t respect an epiphany when you’re having one. It’s not a cop skill.
    ‘It’s sergeant to you, Likely! Here!’
    Trev managed to catch the favour as it was skimmed across the room.
    ‘Thanks, sarge!’
    ‘Get out!’
    He got out, and was half expecting the shadowy shape that stepped up to him when he was clear of the building. There was a faint odour in the grey air. Well, at least it wasn’t Andy. He could do without Andy right now.
    ‘Yes, Carter?’ he said to the fog.
    ‘How did you know it was me?’
    Trev sighed. ‘I guessed.’ He started to walk fast.
    ‘Andy’ll want to know what you said.’
    ‘Don’t worry, it’s sorted.’
    ‘Sorted! How?’ Carter, always a bit overweight, had to scurry to keep up.
    ‘Not going to tell you.’ Oh, the joy of the moment.
    ‘But can I tell him we’re in the clear?’
    ‘It’s all sorted! Done and dusted! I blew it out. It’s fixed. All gone away. It never happened.’
    ‘Are you sure?’ said Carter. ‘He was pretty busted up.’
    ‘Hey, what can I tell you?’ Trev flung out his arms and twirled a pirouette. ‘I’m Trev Likely!’
    ‘Well, that’s firm, then. Hey, I bet Andy’ll let you back in the Posse now. That would be great, eh?’
    ‘Do you know what Nutt thought the Posse was called, Carter?’
    ‘No. What?’
    Trev told him.
    ‘Well, that’s—’ Carter began, but Trev interrupted.
    ‘It’s funny, Carter. It’s funny, and sort of sad and hopeless. It really is.’ Trev stopped walking so abruptly that Carter collided with him. ‘And here’s a tip: Carter the Farter isn’t gonna take you anywhere. And that goes for the Fartmeister, too. Trust me.’
    ‘But everybody calls me Carter the Farter,’ the Fartmeister wailed.
    ‘Punch the next one who does. See a doctor. Cut down on carbohydrates. Keep out of confined spaces. Use aftershave,’ said Trev, speeding up again.
    ‘Where are you going, Trev?’
    ‘I’m gettin’ out of the Shove!’ Trev called over his shoulder.
    Carter looked around desperately. ‘What Shove?’
    ‘Haven’t you heard? It’s all Shove!’

    Trev wondered if he glowed as he trotted through the fog.