`No.

`Oh, well, never mind-'

`I can turn into a lot of bats,' said Sally. `One bat is hard to do because you have to deal with changes in body mass, and you can't do that if you've been Reformed for a while. Anyway, it gives me a headache.'

`What was your last job?'

`Didn't have one. I was a musician.'

Vimes brightened up. `Really? Some of the lads have been talking about setting up a Watch band.'

`Could they use a cello?'

`Probably not.'

Vimes drummed his fingers on the desk. Well, she hadn't gone for his throat yet, had she? That was the problem, of course. Vampires were fine right up until the point where, suddenly, they weren't. But, in truth, right now, he had to admit it: he needed anyone who could stand upright and finish a sentence. This damn business was taking its toll. He needed men out there all the time, just to keep the lid on things. Oh, right now it was just scuffles and stone-throwing and breaking windows and running away, but all that stuff added up, like snowflakes on an avalanche slope. People

needed to see coppers at a time like this. They gave the illusion that the whole world hadn't gone insane.

And the Temperance League were pretty good and very supportive of their members. It was in the interests of them all that no one found themselves standing in a strange bedroom with an embarrassingly full feeling. They'd be watching her ...

`We've got no room for passengers in the Watch,' he said. `We're too pressed right now to give you any more than what is laughingly known as on-the-job training, but you'll be on the streets from day one ... Er, how are you with the daylight thing?'

`I'm fine with long sleeves and a wide brim. I carry the kit, anyway.

Vimes nodded. A small dustpan and brush, a phial of animal blood and a card saying:

Help, I have crumbled and I can't get up.

Please sweep me into a heap and crush vial.

I am a Black Ribboner and will not harm you.

Thanking you in advance.

His fingers rattled on the desktop again. She returned his stare.

`All right, you're in,' Vimes said at last. `On probation, to start with. Everyone starts that way. Sort out the paperwork with Sergeant Littlebottom downstairs, report to Sergeant Detritus for your gear and orientation lecture and try not to laugh. And now you've got what you want, and we're not being official ... tell me why.'

`Pardon?' said Sally.

`A vampire wanting to be a copper?' said Vimes, leaning back in his chair. `I can't quite make that fit, "Sally".'

`I thought it would be an interesting job in the fresh air which would offer opportunities to help people, Commander Vimes.'

`Hmm,' said Vimes. `If you can say that without smiling you might make a copper after all. Welcome to the job, lance-constable. I hope you have-'

The door slammed. Captain Carrot took two steps into the room, saw Sally and hesitated.

'Lance- Constable von Humpeding has just joined us, captain,' said Vimes.

`Er ... fine ... hello, miss,' said Carrot quickly, and turned to Vimes. `Sir, someone's killed Hamcrusher!'

Ankh-Morpork's Finest strolled back down towards the Yard. `What I'd do, said Nobby, `is cut the painting up into little bits, like, oh, a few inches across?'

`That's diamonds, Nobby. It's how you get rid of stolen diamonds.'

`All right, then, how about this one? You cut the muriel up into bits the size of ordinary paintings, okay? Then you paint a painting on the other side of each one, an' put 'em in frames, an' leave 'em around the place. No one will notice extra paintings, right? An' then you can go an' pinch 'em when the fuss has died down.'

`And how do you get them out, Nobby?'

`Well, first you get some glue, and a really long stick, and-' Fred Colon shook his head. `Can't see it happening, Nobby.'

`All right, then, you get some paint that's the same colour as the

walls, and you glue the painting to the wall somewhere it'll fit, and

you paint over it with your wall paint so it looks just like wall.' `Got a convenient bit of wall in mind, then?' `How about inside the frame that's there already, sarge?'

`Bloody hell, Nobby, that's clever,' said Fred, stopping dead. `Thank you, sarge. That means a lot, coming from you.' `But you've still got to get it out, Nobby.'

`Remember all those dust sheets, sarge? I bet in a few weeks' time

a couple of blokes in overalls will be able to walk out of the place

with a big white roll under their arms and no one'd think twice

about it, 'cos they'd, like, be thinkin' the muriel had been pinched

weeks before.'

There were a few moments of silence before Sergeant Colon said,

in a hushed voice: `That's a very dangerous mind you got there,

Nobby. Very dangerous indeed. How'd you get the new paint off,

though?'

`Oh, that's easy,' said Nobby. `And I know where to get some

painters' aprons, too.

`Nobby!' said Fred, shocked.

`All right, sarge. You can't blame a man for dreaming, though.' `This could be a feather in our caps, Nobby. And we could do with one now.'

`Your water playing up again, sarge?'

`You may laugh, Nobby, but you've only got to look around,' said

Fred gloomily. `It's just gang fights now, but it's going to get worse,

you mark my words. All this scrapping over something that

happened thousands of years ago! I don't know why they don't go

back to where they came from if they want to do that!'

`Most of 'em come from here now,' said Nobby.

Fred grunted his disdain for a mere fact of geography. `War,

Nobby. Huh! What is it good for?' he said.

'Dunno, sarge. Freeing slaves, maybe?' 'Absol- Well, okay.'

`Defending yourself from a totalitarian aggressor?' `All right, I'll grant you that, but-' `Saving civilization against a horde of-'

`It doesn't do any good in the long run is what I'm saying,

Nobby, if you'd listen for five seconds together,' said Fred Colon sharply.

`Yeah, but in the long run what does, sarge?'

`Say that again paying attention to every word, will you?' said Vimes.

`He's dead, sir. Hamcrusher is dead. The dwarfs are sure

of it.,

Vimes stared at his captain. Then he glanced at Sally and said, `I gave you an order, Lance-Constable Humpeding. Go and get joined up!'

When the girl had hurried out, he said, `I hope you're sure about it as well, captain . .

`It's spreading through the dwarfs like, like-' Carrot began. `Alcohol?' Vimes suggested.

`Very fast, anyway,' Carrot conceded. `Last night, they say. A troll got into his place in Treacle Street and beat him to death. I heard some of the lads talking about it.'

`Carrot, wouldn't we know if something like that had happened?' said Vimes, but in the theatre of his mind Angua and Fred Colon uttered their cassandraic warnings again. The dwarfs knew something. The dwarfs were worried.

`Don't we, sir?' said Carrot. `I mean, I've just told you.'

`I mean, why aren't his people shouting it in the streets? Political assassination and all that sort of thing? Shouldn't they be screaming bloody murder? Who told you this?'

`Constable Ironbender and Corporal Ringfounder, sir. They're steady lads. Ringfounder's up for sergeant soon. Er ... there was something else, sir. I did ask them why we hadn't heard officially,

and Ironbender said ... you won't like this, sir ... he said the Watch

wasn't to be told.' Carrot watched Vimes carefully. It was hard to see

the change of expression on the commander's face, but certain

small muscles set firmly.