He opened the wicket gate.
'A lot of us ain't happy about this,' he whispered. 'I don't see why those buggers should get away with it. We ought to go round to the Assassins and have it out with them.'
'Why the Assassins?' said Colon. 'Why would they kill a down?'
Boffo looked guilty. 'I never said a thing!'
Colon glared at him. 'There's definitely something odd happening, Mr Boffo.'
Boffo looked around, as if expecting a vengeful custard pie at any moment.
'You find his nose,' he hissed. 'You just find his nose. His poor nose!'
The gate slammed shut.
Sergeant Colon turned to Nobby.
'Did exhibit A have a nose, Nobby?'
'Yes, Fred.'
'Then what was that about?'
'Search me.' Nobby scratched a promising boil. 'P'raps he meant a false nose. You know. Those red ones on elastic? The ones,' said Nobby, grimacing, 'they think are funny. He didn't have one.'
Colon rapped on the door, taking care to stand out of the way of any jolly amusing booby traps.
The hatch slid aside.
'Yes?' hissed Boffo.
'Did you mean his false nose?' said Colon.
'His real one! Now bugger off!'
The hatch snapped back.
'Mental,' said Nobby, firmly.
'Beano had a real nose. Did it look wrong to you?' said Colon.
'No. It had a couple of holes in it.'
'Well, I don't know about noses,' said Colon, 'but either Brother Boffo is dead wrong or there's something fishy going on.'
'Like what?'
'Well, Nobby, you're what I might call a career soldier, right?'
' 'S'right, Fred.'
'How many dishonourable discharges have you had?'
'Lots,' said Nobby, proudly. 'But I always puts a poultice on 'em.'
'You've been on a lot of battlefields, ain't you?'
'Dozens.'