Reaper Man (Terry Pratchett)

In the cellar, Sergeant Colon picked up one of the objects that lay in huge drifts on the floor.

“There must be thousands of ’em,” said Throat, behind him. “What I want to know is, who put them there?”^[6]

Sergeant Colon turned the object around and around in his hands.

“Never seen one of these before,” he said. He gave it a shake. His face lit up. “Pretty, ain’t they?”

“The door was locked and everything,” said Throat. “And I’m paid up with the Thieves’ Guild.”

Colon shook the thing again.

“Nice,” he said.

“Fred?”

Colon, fascinated, watched the little snowflakes fall inside the tiny glass globe. “Hmm?”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Dunno. I suppose they’re yours, Throat. Can’t imagine why anyone’d want to get rid of ’em, though.”

He turned toward the door. Throat stepped into his path.

“Then that’ll be twelve pence,” he said smoothly.

“What?”

“For the one you just put in your pocket, Fred.”

Colon fished the globe out of his pocket.

“Come on!” he protested. “You just found them here! They didn’t cost you a penny!”

“Yes, but there’s storage…packing…handling…”

“Tuppence,” said Colon desperately.

“Tenpence.”

“Threepence.”

“Sevenpence—and that’s cutting my own throat, mark you.”

“Done,” said the sergeant, reluctantly. He gave the globe another shake.

“Nice, ain’t they?” he said.

“Worth every penny,” said Dibbler. He rubbed his hands together hopefully. “Should sell like hot cakes,” he said, picking up a handful and shoving them into a box.

He locked the door behind them when they left.

In the darkness something went plop.