The Fifth Elephant

Of course, Mr Vimes had kept his desk piled high with paperwork, but it occurred to Colon that maybe Vimes and Carrot between them had developed a way of keeping just ahead of the piles, by knowing what was important and what wasn't. To Colon, it was all gut-wrenchingly mysterious. There were complaints and memos and invitations, and letters requesting 'a few minutes of your time' and forms to fill in, and reports to read, and sentences containing words like 'iniquitous' and 'immediate action', and they tottered in his mind like a great big wave, poised to fall on him.

The sane core of Colon was wondering if the purpose of officers wasn't to stand between the sergeants and all this sh— this slush, so that they could get on with sergeanting.

Captain Colon took a deep, wobbly breath.

On the other hand, if people were nicking the sugar lumps, no wonder things weren't working properly! Get the sugar lumps right, and everything else would work out!

That made sense!

He turned and his eye caught the huge accusing heap of paperwork in the corner.

And the empty fireplace, too.

That was what officering was all about, wasn't it? Making decisions!

Lance-Constable Visit walked dejectedly back down to the main office, which had filled up for a Watch change.

Everyone was clustered around one of the desks on which lay, looking slightly muddy, the Scone of Stone.

'Constable Thighbiter found it in Zephire Street, just lying there,' said Sergeant Stronginthearm. 'The thief must've got scared.'

'A long way from the museum, though,' said Reg Shoe. 'Why lug it all the way across the city and leave it in a posh part of town where someone's bound to trip over it?'

'Oh, woe is me, for I am undone,' said Constable Visit, who felt he was playing a poor second fiddle to what he would call, if he had no use for his legs, a pagan image.

'Could be draughty,' said Corporal Nobbs, a man of little sympathy.

'I mean I have been reduced to lanceconstable,' said Visit:

'What? Why?' said Sergeant Stronginthearm.

'I'm... not sure,' said Visit.

'That just about does it!' said the dwarf. 'He sacked three of the officers up at Dolly Sisters yesterday. Well, I'm not waiting for it to happen to me. I'm off to Sto Lat. They're always looking for trained watchmen. I'm a sergeant. I could name my price.'

'But, look, Vimesy used to say that sort of thing too. I heard him,' said Nobby.

'Yeah, but that was different.'

'How?'

'That was Mister Vimes,' said Stronginthearm. 'Remember that riot in Easy Street last year? Bloke came after me with a club when I was on the ground, and Mister Vimes caught it on his arm and punched the man right in the head.'

'Yeah,' said Constable Hacknee, another dwarf. 'When your back's against the wall, Mister Vimes is right behind you.'

'But old Fred... you all know old Fred Colon, boys,' Nobby wheedled, taking a kettle off the

office stove and pouring the boiling water into a teapot. 'He knows coppering inside and out.'

'His kind of coppering, yeah,' said Hacknee.

'I mean, he's been a copper longer than anyone in the Watch,' said Nobby.

One of the dwarfs said something in dwarfish. There were a few smiles from the shorter watchmen.

'What was that?' said Nobby.

'Well, roughly translated,' said Stronginthearm, ' "My bum has been a bum for a very long time but I don't have to listen to anything it says." '

'He fined me half a dollar for mumping,' said Hacknee. 'Fred Colon! He practically goes on patrol with a shopping bag! And all I had was a free pint at the Bunch of Grapes and I found out that Posh Wally is suddenly flashing a lot of money lately. That's worth knowing. I remember going out on patrol with Fred Colon when I started and you could practically see him tucking his napkin under his chin whenever we walked past a cafe. "Oh, no, Sergeant Colon, wouldn't dream of seeing you pay." They used to lay the table when they saw him turn the corner.'

'Everyone does it,' said Stronginthearm.

'Captain Carrot never did,' said Nobby.

'Captain Carrot was... special.'

'But what am I supposed to do with this?' said Visit, waving the ink-speckled message. 'Mister Vimes wants some information urgently, he says!'

Stronginthearm took the paper and read it.

'Well, this shouldn't be hard,' he said. 'Old Wussie Staid in Kicklebury Street was a janitor there for years and he owes me a favour.'

'If we're going to send a clacks to Mister Vimes then we ought to tell him about the Scone and Sonky,' said Reg Shoe. 'You know he left a message about that. I've done a report.'

'Why? He's hundreds of miles away.'

'I'd just feel happier if he knew,' said Reg. ' 'cos it worries me.'

'What good will it do sending it to him, then?'

'Because then it'll worry him, and I can stop worrying,' said Reg.

'Corporal Nobbs!'

'He listens at the door, I'll swear he does,' said Stronginthearm. 'I'm off.'