' 'E's plain clothes, ma'am,' said Nobby smartly. 'Special Ape Services.'
'Very enterprising. Very enterprising indeed,' said Lady Ramkin. 'How long have you been an ape, my man?'
'Oook.'
'Well done.' She turned to Vimes, who was definitely looking incredulous.
'A credit to you,' she said. 'A fine body of men…'
'Oook.'
'…anthropoids,' corrected Lady Ramkin, with barely a break in the flow.
For a moment the rank felt as though they had just returned from single-handedly conquering a distant province. They felt, in fact, tremendously bucked up, which was how Lady Ramkin would almost certainly have put it and which was definitely several letters of the alphabet away from how they normally felt. Even the Librarian felt favoured, and for once had let the phrase 'my man' pass without comment.
A trickling noise and a strong chemical smell prompted them to look around.
Goodboy Bindle Featherstone was squatting with an air of sheepish innocence alongside what was not so much a stain on the carpet as a hole in the floor. A few wisps of smoke were curling up from the edges.
Lady Ramkin sighed.
'Don't you worry, ma'am,' volunteered Nobby cheerfully. 'Soon have that cleaned up.'
'I'm afraid they're often like that when they're excited,' she said.
'Fine specimen you got there, ma'am,' Nobby went on, revelling in the new-found experience of social intercourse.
'It's not mine,' she said. 'It belongs to the captain now. Or all of you, perhaps. A sort of mascot. His name is Goodboy Bindle Featherstone.'
Goodboy Bindle Featherstone bore up stoically under the weight of the name, and sniffed a table leg.
'He looks more like my brother Errol,' said Nobby, playing the cheeky chirpy lovable city sparrow card for all it was worth. 'Got the same pointed nose, excuse me for saying so, milady.'
Vimes looked at the creature, which was investigating its new environment, and knew that it was now, irrevocably, an Errol. The little dragon took an experimental bite out of the table, chewed it for a few seconds, spat it out, curled up and went to sleep.
'He ain't going to set fire to anything, is he?' said the sergeant anxiously.
'I don't think so. He doesn't seem to have worked out what his flame ducts are for yet,' said Lady Ramkin.
'You can't teach him anything about relaxing, though,' said Vimes. 'Anyway, men ...'
'Oook.'
'I wasn't talking to you, sir. What's this doing here?'
'Er,' said Sergeant Colon hurriedly, 'I, er . . . with you being away and all, and us likely to be short-handed . . . Carrot here says it's all according to the law and that ... I swore him in, sir. The ape, sir.'
'Swore him in what, Sergeant?' said Vimes.
'As Special Constable, sir,' said Colon, blushing. 'You know, sir. Sort of citizen's Watch.'
Vimes threw up his hands.'Special? Bloody ' unique!'
The Librarian gave Vimes a big smile.
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