The Headmaster (short story): Difference between revisions
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"You're lucky," said Mr. Calder. "I have."<br/><br/> | "You're lucky," said Mr. Calder. "I have."<br/><br/> | ||
In the course of a long career, Sir Frederick Lake had held every conceivable post in the Foreign Service, had visited every known country in the world and had developed into the most compulsive bore of his generation.</blockquote> | In the course of a long career, Sir Frederick Lake had held every conceivable post in the Foreign Service, had visited every known country in the world and had developed into the most compulsive bore of his generation.</blockquote> | ||
Revision as of 00:33, 2 May 2008
The Headmaster is a short story by the British mystery and thriller writer Michael Gilbert about the counterspies Mr. Calder and Mr. Behrens. First published in the United Kingdom in the June, 1962, issue of Argosy, it was later published in the United States in Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine and then collected in book form along with other stories about the same two protagonists as the sixth of eleven stories in Game without Rules. It is set in a contemporary, but undated London, and, unlike most of the other stories in this series, has Mr. Calder as the main character, with only brief appearances by Mr. Behrens and Rasselas, the Persian deerhound. It is written in Gilbert's usual spare, chaste style, but with even fewer overtones and descriptions of the characters than are found in most of his works; the plot itself, and its resolution, is also somewhat unlikely, so the story, compared to the others in the series, must be considered a fairly minor one. It does, however, have several examples of Gilbert's understated and astringent humor.
It begins with the stark statement that there now remained only two master spies at work in the country: "The Science Master was still at his shadowy work in the Midlands, and the Headmaster was in the London area." Mr. Calder, vague and ill-defined, is instructed by Mr. Fortescue, the director of JSSIC(E),the shadowy counter-espionage agency for which he has worked since 1958, to locate a missing fellow-agent and longtime friend of Calder's, a prominent London barrister named John Craven. Unlike the other Calder-Behrens stories, Mr. Fortesque is not shown within his usual abominably paneled office at the Westminster branch of the London and Home Counties Bank, of which he is the manager, nor are Fortesque, Calder, or Behrens fleshed out to the reader with any of the telling details that Gilbert generally provides.
Calder, a mute and nearly invisible Behrens, and Craven's sister rendezvous in the English countryside, along with Rasselas the deerhound, and begin the search for the missing solicitor. Gilbert's writing is often at its evocative best when dealing with the giant dog and "The Headmaster" is no exception.
Rasselas ran free ahead of them, his tail feathering in the breeze. Occasionally his nose dipped to the ground and rose again as he ran. He was like a great golden galleon answering the first chops of the open sea.
At the end of a long day, the body of John Craven found hidden behind a remote farmhouse and Calder later details to Fortesque, somewhat improbably, how three men ambushed and killed Craven in a carefully designed trap.
"How do you know all this?"
"Rasselas worked it out for me," said Mr. Calder.
Fortesque and Calder decide that Craven must have inadvertently and unknowingly come across information that could have made him a danger to the Headmaster, hence his execution. With no other leads to follow, Calder installs himself in Craven's legal chambers "overlooking the lawn of Middle Temple Gardens". Here he spends the next two weeks going through all of Craven's papers, appointments, and cases, trying to find anything that might point him in the direction of the Headmaster. Eventually he narrows his trail down to three men—"Any one of them could have access to secret information. And all three are new acquaintances."
Sir George Gould is "something in the Treasury, I believe." General Hamish Fairside works in the War Office in Military Intelligence. And Freddie Lake:
"The name is familiar, but I don't think I ever met him."
"You're lucky," said Mr. Calder. "I have."
In the course of a long career, Sir Frederick Lake had held every conceivable post in the Foreign Service, had visited every known country in the world and had developed into the most compulsive bore of his generation.