The Old School Tie (Bookhounds of London)

After fooling around with modern spycraft for so long, let’s take a step back to an old favorite, Bookhounds of London.

I’ve been re-reading Graves’ Goodbye to All That and am currently going over his years at Charterhouse, one of the preeminent public schools of England. For those not familiar, a public school is a fee-charging endowed school and are "public" in the sense of being open to pupils irrespective of locality, denomination or paternal trade or profession. So long as you can pay and (in some cases at least) maintain a certain academic standard, you can attend.

The English are obsessed with public school. It encompasses a certain kind of Englishness that many aspire to, and all recognize. In much the same sense fox hunting, cosy murder mysteries in the Christie style, and bloated, feckless upper classes all represent a kind of Englishness recognized the world over. Other nations hunt foxes, but it’s the English people think of when they see pictures of fox hunting. Other nations murder, but somehow it’s just not the same if the corpse isn’t found in some English country squire’s locked library or splattered across the scones at the church fete.  

So too with public schools. Hogwarts, let’s not forget, is a public school; for all his talents Harry couldn’t attend if someone hadn’t thoughtfully left him a small fortune held by the gnomes of Gringotts. Rudyard Kipling’s most recognizable characters, Stalky and his pals, are public schoolboys. P.G. Wodehouse, the girls of St. Trinian’s, Enid Blyton – the school story is practically a cobwebbed, crumbling English institution.

That being so, it’s likely that at least one of the Bookhounds either attended public school or pretends to have attended. It’s the sort of thing that lends social cache, which can help make a sale. At least the veneer of sophistication that comes with the old school tie might impress a customer.

Things you might see at a public school:

• Cricket
• Rugby.
• The Officer’s Training Corps on parade.
• Ivy-covered buildings
• Masters in their black gowns.
• Corporal punishment.
• School newspapers.
• School societies, eg. Poetry.
• Impressive portraits and donated artworks.
• Small museums dedicated either to the school or some local monument of some kind.
• Impressive modernity, eg. a flying school.
• Crumbling history, eg. the chapel.

All of which brings me to today’s subject: The Old School Tie. 

The Hounds are likely to know a lot of people who want favors or can grant favors. This scratch-my-back economy can make the difference between a Windfall and an ordinary month, or snatch a failing store from the brink of economic crisis.  

What do they do when someone wearing that old school tie wants something, and can offer something valuable in exchange?

The Old Dumbletonian

[Source for Dumbleton school: Murder Must Advertise, Dorothy Sayers]

Everything that can go wrong has been going wrong. The council’s pressing the shop for unpaid rates (taxes). The drains are rotten. One of the shop’s most important customers has defected to another shop. The police are buzzing around like flies, certain that the shop is a front for a pornography ring. Things are looking bleak, so when a fellow you barely recognize from days gone by says he has a peculiar commission for you which will save your financial bacon, you’re all ears.

This gent, Augustus Kendall, says he attended the same school as you, Dumbleton, near Gloucester. You were several years above him, assuming he’s telling the truth. He went from the schoolroom to the trenches, caught a bad one in the right leg which left him with a limp, and spent the rest of the war in  Offizierslager Toruń on the Vistula River. Since then he’s bumbled from job to job, but he has grand prospects. His aunt, a remarkably wealthy old cat, is about to stumble off this mortal coil and he’s her only living relative.

Which would be fine, were it not for some inconvenient letters.

While at Dumbleton he fell in love with one of the younger boys, Douglas Parry. Indiscreet letters were written. Poetry. Other stuff, all of which Parry kept. Parry is now a master at Dumbleton (Greek and Latin). Parry is blackmailing Kendall, bleeding him of every cent he earns, knowing that if Aunt Belima ever sees those letters he can kiss the fortune goodbye. 

Kendall remembers the Hound as being a bit of a sharp character, an impression that is only strengthened by some of the stories Kendall has heard about the way the Hound does business. Surely for someone as resourceful as that, the retrieval of a few letters from old Dumbleton would be no great task?

As it happens Gaudy night is coming up, which means the Hound can probably wangle an invitation to Dumbleton for the festivities on the strength of the old school tie. There’s a fair amount of money on offer, and Kendall is likely to be worth a bob or two when Aunt Belima leaves us …

The Awful Truth

Kendall is a would-be member of the Keirecheires (cults, main book p65). He’s been on the fringes of the cult for some time, but never managed to secure an invitation to join that hedonistic group. He knows Parry is a member and guesses, correctly, that Parry keeps some very indiscreet literature at his rooms at Dumbleton. Kendall reasons that, if he gets hold of those letters and poems, he can use them to blackmail Parry into letting him into Keirecheires.

The problem is, Parry’s been working on a particularly complicated ritual which he intended to present to his fellow enthusiasts at the next orgy. It was to be a summoning, something suitably vile and entertaining for their group activities. However, in creating (and writing down) this hideous ritual, Parry has managed to summon up something particularly ruthless that he’s having some trouble dealing with. Hounds with Mythos might notice some of the precautions he’s been taking, signs of which can be seen at his rooms as well as in his behavior. The chapel at Dumbleton is particularly tainted by Parry’s researches. 

All of which would be fine – up to a point – were it not for some meddlesome Hounds stealing his notes and researches along with the grab-bag of letters and poems.

Once up to their neck in it the Hounds will have to dodge vengeful Keirecheires as well as the whatever-it-is Parry has summoned up.

Good luck with that. The old school tie won’t help the Hounds now …

A Twist?

Augustus Kendall is dead and has been for years. 

He died during the War and over time became a Crawling One, an undead nightmare that lives half in the Dreamlands and half in the waking world, a thing of maggots and decay that can disguise itself as a living man through dubious sorceries. It was he, not Parry, who was a member of Keirecheires, albeit a very junior member at the time of his death. Parry obtained Kendall’s letters and poems through dubious means and is trying to use them to ease his way into Keirecheires. Kendall is furious at the very idea, but Parry’s been able to block him so far. Kendall’s decided to use the Hounds as catspaws, hoping that their efforts will dislodge Parry’s defenses and give Kendall a chance to strike.

That’s it for this week. Enjoy!