An excerpt:
He peered under the desk, and seeing nothing, fell back in his seat, shaking his head.
'Cats. Cereal. Criminals. Clocks. Commodores. Why do they all start with 'C'?' said Warren.
'And constables,' said Crowbar, trying to be helpful.
'Yes. I'll catch those clods scribbling over our walls.'
Crowbar shut up. He didn't want Warren talking about that at a time like this. Besides, his name started with 'C'.
'They use chalk and crayons,' said the chief, Crowbar reeling.
'Sir?' said Crowie.
'And me, going to funerals, alongside of crims.'
'For form's sake,' purred Crowbar. 'Under the circumstances.'
Warren jerked. 'Forms? Don't talk to me about forms.'