PERCIVAL HOOVER
Somewhere between anomaly and asset, there is Percival Hoover.
A Pembroke Welsh Corgi. Fully sentient. Fully licensed. Not particularly forthcoming.
He lives in Bellwick — a coastal town with its share of problems and more than its share of silence. He speaks, yes. But he’s long since stopped explaining why. Not because he has secrets, but because the question always misses the point.
He investigates. He documents. He remembers things others prefer to forget.
No one asked for him to exist, and no one quite knows what to do with him now that he does. The council calls him a civic operative. The police call him when they don’t have a better idea. Some call him a curiosity. Others don’t call at all.
What matters is: he turns up when things go wrong. And when he does, they tend to stop staying buried.
Routine, Weather, Function
He dresses with precision: shirt, tie, waistcoat, tweed coat, and deerstalker hat. Not for effect — for insulation, for habit, for armour. Tweed, as it happens, hides dog hair better than most things.
He has a weakness for aged Cheddar and an equally strong aversion to vacuum cleaners. The irony is not lost on anyone — least of all him.
His flat sits above what used to be a cobbler’s shop. There’s no sofa. No chairs. Just floor-level systems and modified tools. A filing cabinet built to nose height. A kettle adapted for paw operation. Twenty-four stone steps to the front door. He climbs them every day.
The place is silent. Ordered. Entirely functional. Just like him.
Conditional Operability
Technically, he shouldn't exist. Legally, he almost doesn’t. But years ago, a sympathetic mayor found a workaround — and signed a document that gave Percival Hoover a civic identity. A licence. A number in the system.
That licence was enough — until someone reviewed it.
Now there are terms. Clauses. Oversight.
And a requirement for public transparency.
Which is why this website — and the book Collateral Death — exist at all.
Don’t mistake this for outreach
He accepts interviews reluctantly. He allows photos under protest. And he never answers questions he’s already decided are the wrong ones.
But he follows the rules — when they matter. And he keeps to the facts.
The case exists for only one reason:
Because two children died, and Percival Hoover chose not to look away.
Commentary by Percival Hoover
Let’s be clear: I didn’t approve the section above.
I’ve seen worse. But not by much.
Yes, I live in Bellwick.
Yes, I speak.
No, I don’t enjoy explaining that.
The coat has nothing to do with charm. It’s warm. It works.
I didn’t apply for the licence.
I reviewed the terms once it was issued.
They call this an introduction.
You want to know more — fine.
Just don’t call it a story.
I live here.
P.H.