FACILIS descensus Averni' might well be the motto for any article or chapter dealing with the above comprehensive 'avocations.' Once started on his career, the book-thief may be regarded as entirely lost. At the Middlesex Sessions a few years ago a genius of the name of Terry was sentenced to six years' imprisonment for stealing books. On inquiry it was found that this same person had already been in prison six times, two terms of eighteen months each, one term of five years' penal servitude, and another of seven years, all for stealing books.
Each thief has his own special modus operandi, which he varies according to circumstances. There are those who do it without any adventitious aid, and those who cover their sin with various accessories. First, the ordinary book-thief, who watches his opportunity when the shopkeeper is not looking, and simply slips the book quickly under his coat and departs. This method is plain and simple in execution, but sometimes dangerous in practice. Then there is the man who wears an overcoat, the lining of the pocket of which he has previously removed, so that he can pass his hand right through while apparently only standing still looking on, with his hands quietly in his pocket, possibly with one hand openly touching something, whilst the other is earning his dinner.
An amusing incident was once the experience of a London bookseller. While sitting behind his counter inside the shop, he was amazed one day at seeing a man running at a tremendous rate, and, momentarily slackening his speed to seize a book off the stall, he had disappeared before the astounded bookseller was able to get to the door. And it is remarkable that, though many people were about, no one seems to have noticed the thief take the book, though they saw him running. Another favourite device is to carry a newspaper in the hand, and when no one is looking deposit the paper on a carefully-selected book within the folds; or having an overcoat carried on the arm to quickly hide something under cover of it. This latter method requires, of course, a well-to-do-looking man, and obviously is chiefly confined to the stealers of the higher class of valuable books. It also requires, like every well-managed business, a certain amount of capital, for it is absolutely necessary—in order to lull suspicion—that small purchases should be made from time to time in the hunting-ground that has been chosen for the season.
THE BOOK-HUNTER IN LONDON, W. Roberts
If a thing has value, someone will want to steal it.
The Shop has plenty of things it keeps under lock & key. If it has a copy of a Mythos text, whatever that text may be, it's probably not up front with the Agatha Christies. It'll be in some locked glass-fronted cabinet, some secure-yet-public location. After all, if the public don't know it exists they won't try to buy it, so it's got to be somewhere visible (ish).
But most of its stock will be out. Where people can touch it.
That exposes it to risk.
The thief is also exposed to risk. Arrest. Prison time. Roberts casually mentions a four-month bit for one unlucky book thief, which seems remarkable. It's difficult to imagine a shoplifter getting that kind of sentence, but then we're talking about valuable merchandise. But there's also the public shame, the damage to reputation. After all, when we're talking about book collectors we're talking about a small group of people whose identities are well-known. If it's public knowledge that they steal, then they'll have difficulty getting into shops, or buying on credit, or buying at all. That can be a fate worse than death for a bibliophile.
But the chief thing to bear in mind is, this risk means everyone involved is going to be careful about what they do and how they do it. The simple quick-grab described above works for the stuff kept in an outside stall, but how many truly valuable items are going to be out there?
I've mentioned Book Row before. That New York institution demonstrates just how dangerous an organized book gang can be. Harry Gold and his confederates robbed libraries and Book Row blind and, at the same time, profited from Book Row by selling on his trophies. They developed book theft as a kind of organized network. There would be someone at the center - the Gold character - organizing the mob, giving it targets, giving it direction. There would be operatives who would go out and identify the most valuable items. Then, on the heels of those operatives, someone would actually do the stealing. They'd seem polite, knowledgeable, not suspicious at all. But when they left your shop or library your collection would be lighter.
From the Hounds' perspective an organized book theft ring is both a threat and an opportunity, assuming they're not the ones organizing the ring. Their collection is at risk. However, their collection can be expanded, if they're willing to buy stolen goods.
In game terms, the presence of book thieves can represent a Reverse. Someone's been targeting the shop's stock, so it could also be represented by reducing the Stock pool in some way. It could also be considered a ding to Credit Rating, which can affect the shop's ability to do business. In role play, this could be represented by an uncomfortable moment with a disappointed client, or an impervious bobby taking a statement.
"What went missing, sir? I see. [scribbles in notebook]. A valuable item, would you say? I see. [scribbles]."
The professional thief is relatively well equipped and will have a decent Filch score as well as a means of hiding the goods, perhaps in a capacious overcoat specially equipped with hidden pockets. Or they may have a confederate waiting in the wings for a hand-off, but judging by what's written about book thieves they seem to work as lone operators most of the time. It's not like shoplifting, where a team might work the shop.
Also worth bearing in mind is that thieves work for money. Seldom do they steal to enrich their own collections, if they have a collection. That being so, they're not going to steal anything which doesn't have a definite worth but they will steal to order, if asked to do so. Which suggests that they know a little about what they're stealing, but just enough to know valuable from tat. Not any real Magick, or any understanding of the Mythos.
Sounds like plot hook material to me.
With all that in mind:
Sticky Fingers
Rumor has it that someone's been targeting book shops.
That's nothing new. Thieves have always been a problem in the trade. The Three Blind Mice are a known quantity. But whoever this new chap is, they have a very specific type. They like occult grimoires, and particularly Mythos texts. You know for a certainty that several libraries have been pilfered, and that the British Library takes the threat so seriously it's taken special precautions over its copy of the Necronomicon.
But who is this thief, and who are they trying to impress? There must be a well-heeled collector out there somewhere who's funding the show. Is this purely for someone's collection, or does the collector have a particular goal in mind?
Perhaps more pressing, how to stop this fellow from getting at the shop's stock?
Option One: The Amateur. The collector is Jacob D'Aster the ghost hunter and vampire enthusiast. Jacob has decided to create the world's foremost collection of material related to hauntings and bloodsuckers and has brought someone over from the Continent to get this done. The Frenchman goes by the nom de guerre Flambeau, possibly borrowed from a popular novel. Flambeau, ironically, knows a bit more about the topic than his employer and is stealing things that D'Aster wouldn't know what to do with, but these are the genuine articles and D'Aster doesn't want to look a fool, so he keeps paying for them. Problems will arise when some of the owners band together to get their mythos grimoires back.
Option Two: The Professional. The collector is a member in good standing of one of the cults of London - it might be the Keirecheires, or the Witch-Cult - and seeks promotion into the inner circle. For that to happen the collector needs a specific text but they don't know exactly what it is. Or where it is, for that matter. Their seniors guard that secret closely. However, not to be denied, they have embarked on this enterprise hoping that, as the thefts progress, they will find out what it is they want when their superiors start getting nervous and hiding the good stuff. The thieves are a small pack of shape-changing ghouls who are in the collector's service to pay off a debt. Once paid, they want nothing more to do with the collector.
Option Three: The Gifted Amateur. The collector is someone with a God's blood in their veins. If ever anyone had the In The Blood Drive, this poor soul does. They are convinced their time draws near and that they will be drawn up into the stars to face their destiny but, before that happens, they feel compelled to finish a particular ritual. This will ensure that they please their ancient fathers, when they ascend. But they don't know, exactly, what that ritual entails, so they're raiding the libraries of the occult to find out. They have brought on board the brood of Eihort; in fact, the brood may be the reason why the collector thinks they're on the verge of ascendance. The homunculi wanders from shop to shop, library to library. No ordinary lock or door can stop a flood of spidery creatures from getting where they want to go ...
That's it for this week. Enjoy!
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