'It's what I wear outside work, guv,' said Nobby reproachfully.
'Sir,' corrected Sergeant Colon.
'My voice is in plain clothes too,' said Nobby. 'Initiative, that is.'
Vimes walked slowly around the corporal.
'And your plain clothes do not cause old women to faint and small boys to run after you in the street?' he said.
Nobby shifted uneasily. He wasn't at home with irony.
'No, sir, guv,' he said. 'It's all the go, this style.'
This was broadly true. There was a current fad in Ankh for big, feathered hats, ruffs, slashed doublets with gold frogging, flared pantaloons and boots with ornamental spurs. The trouble was, Vimes reflected, that most of the fashion-conscious had more body to go between these component bits, whereas all that could be said of Corporal Nobbs was that he was in there somewhere.
It might be advantageous. After all, absolutely no one would ever believe, when they saw him coming down the street, that here was a member of the Watch trying to look inconspicuous.
It occurred to Vimes that he knew absolutely nothing about Nobbs outside working hours. He couldn't even remember where the man lived. All these years he'd known the man and he'd never realized that, in his secret private life, Corporal Nobbs was a bit of a peacock. A very short peacock, it was true, a peacock that had been hit repeatedly with something heavy, perhaps, but a peacock nonetheless. It just went to show, you never could tell.
He brought his attention back to the business in hand.
'I want you two,' he said to Nobbs and Colon, 'to mingle unobtrusively, or obtrusively in your case, Corporal Nobbs, with people tonight and, er, see if you can detect anything unusual.'
'Unusual like what?' said the sergeant.
Vimes hesitated. He wasn't exactly sure himself. '' Anything,' he said, ' pertinent.''
'Ah.' The sergeant nodded wisely. 'Pertinent. Right.'
There was an awkward silence.
'Maybe people have seen weird things,' said Captain Vimes. 'Or perhaps there have been unexplained fires. Or footprints. You know,' he finished, desperately, 'signs of dragons.'
'You mean, like, piles of gold what have been slept on,' said the sergeant.
'And virgins being chained to rocks,' said Nobbs, knowingly.
'I can see you're experts,' sighed Vimes. 'Just do the best you can.'
'This mingling,' said Sergeant Colon delicately, 'it would involve going into taverns and drinking and similar, would it?'
'To a certain extent,' said Vimes.
'Ah,' said the sergeant, happily.
'In moderation.'
'Right you are, sir.'
'And at your own expense.'
'Oh.'
'But before you go,' said the captain, 'do either of you know anyone who might know anything about dragons? Apart from sleeping on gold and the bit with the young women, I mean.'
'Wizards would,' volunteered Nobby.
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