Eamon Shrubb is a character in the Senta and the Steel Dragon books.  In The Two Dragons, Eamon is a police sergeant and there are quite a few places in this book that call for that role.  One of my favorite little bits is how Eamon narrates himself, like in this scene where he finds Mayor Zeah Korlann facing off against a group of potentially violent protestors.

“What the bloody hell is going on here?” he asked, stopping one of the men.  Zeah had never seen the man before.

“We’re keeping the zeets out.”

A second sign carrier, this man the mayor had seen before, but didn’t know, said, “We’re fine with you mayor, and your kind.  But these foreign zeets are too much.”

“I’m so happy that you’re fine with my kind.  Now take your signs and get out of here.”

Zeah had never thought of himself as courageous, though he recognized that he could be resolute.  But then standing down half a dozen men with picket signs seemed so much less intimidating than standing off half a dozen deinonychus, at least until the men formed a half circle around him.

“We got a right to free speech,” said one man.

“Speak all you like, but this is an unlawful demonstration.”

Several of the men puffed themselves up, and for a moment, Zeah expected to get hit with a placard post, but then the men deflated and turned, dragging themselves and their signs away.  Looking up into the sky, Zeah thought that maybe he had been the beneficiary of draconic intervention for the second time that day, but the sky was clear.  Then he saw the three uniformed police constables behind him, truncheons in hand.

“Everything all right then mayor?” asked Police Sergeant Eamon Shrubb.

“Um… yes, thank you, police sergeant.  What are you doing here?”

“There was a report of an anti-Zaeri demonstration.  ‘That’s not very friendly,’ says I, ‘not what with a shipload of refugees from Freedonia coming into port’, so I brought the lads down for a butchers.  Of course when I got here, I found my presence to be unnecessary.”

“Oh, I don’t think you were at all unnecessary, police sergeant.  Thank you for your diligence.”

“Mayor,” said Shrubb, looking over Zeah’s shoulder.  “Does this ship look as though it has more refugees than expected?”

Zeah turned around and looked at the railing of the black ship.  It was lined with unhappy-looking people in bedraggled clothing.  Though they looked as though they had been through something trying, they did not look like the typical Freedonian refugees.  For one thing, their clothing though now limp and soiled, had once been the height of Brech fashion.  For another, several clergy members, Kafirite clergy, could be seen among them.  The mystery was revealed only a few minutes later, when a port authority officer came running up to the police sergeant and the mayor.