Ponder Stibbons turned a peculiar shade of greenish yellow in the face of the raised eyebrow that was the only response from the Patrician. "And, Sir, we'll certainly have it fixed again soon Sir, definitely by next week Sir, nothing to worry about Sir, I have the students working as we speak Sir." Ponder trailed off, aware that he was running out of nails that went with his coffin's decor. Lord Vetinari gazed at the highly nervous wizard in front of him, possibly wondering whether a man could be any more uncertain of the promises he was making. "I have complete faith in your abilities, Ponder. I will assign someone to watch for your Clacks tonight, bearing news of the completed repairs." Ponder gulped as Vetinari proffered a whole shining cartload of nails in You're Doomed Black fresh from the forges of hell itself. The wizard bowed himself out hurriedly, attempting to hide the metaphorical hammer behind his back.
There was a careful knock at the door. Carrot didn't even look up. "Come in, Sargent." He called, knowing the identity of his visitor as the only man who would knock by pressing his ear to the door and breathing so loudly you could hear him even when Detritus was drilling recruits outside the window. Fred sidled in, wondering at his superior's X-ray vision, and fidgeted nervously with a dangling link of chain mail. He'd never really got used to being ranked by someone as young and green as Carrot, still thinking of him as the eager 16-year-old who had arrested the head of the Thieves Guild on his first day in the city. "What was it you wanted, Sargent Colon? Said Carrot, giving the incandescent metal a final buff. The chain mail spun faster and faster under Colon's sausage-like fingers. " Well lad, it was just that no one's seen the Commander all morning, since went to see the Patrician. And you know how he gets."
Carrot turned sharply, dropping his tin of polish with a clang. "Didn't someone go as an escort?" He knew he was grasping at straws, Vimes had eschewed the idea from the moment it was formed, saying he was damned if he couldn't walk the streets of his own bloody city by himself. Carrot had of course organised patrols to tail him, but Vimes had the city's winding paths etched into his cynical heart, and could read the streets through the cardboard patched soles of his boots. Only a werewolf's nose could keep track of him on his home turf. "Is Angua out today? No, of course not. Send someone over to fetch her from Mrs Cake's will you?" Colon's digits practically blurred, and he stared at his feet as if willing them to take flight. "Weeell actually...she just went out. With the vampire. They're on the Scoone Avenue round."
Carrot glanced at the moon chart on his desk, checking to see if he'd gotten the day wrong. But no, there was the date, and just two days later, one framed in a circle, the symbol for a full moon. His brow furrowed in confusion. "What? Which 'Bad'dhakz was on roster duty this morning? Did someone let Nobby near it again?"
"Arrmm... Actually, Sam was looking at it this week."
"Oh dear. Wasn't it Angua who got Nobby caught for stealing from the sick bay uniform cupboard? He must have gotten his hands on the rota book this morning. The Commander may have had ...other things on his mind."
Colon took a deep breath, causing his breast-plate to wobble alarmingly on top of his jelly-like abdomen. "I'll send some men to fetch her then, shall I?" His causal words were betrayed by the anxious tremor in his voice. "No," said Carrot absent-mindedly, "I'll go myself, and we'll start from there. Sally will come in handy too, if she's not busy." He began to fasten his newly shone breastplate, and Fred Colon backed out nervously, already fiddling with the chain link again.