Bad news
(Waiting on the docks to leave Malta, Shirley discovers from the Times that Jimmy Pilkington has been found murdered in London.)
Polite, urbane Shirley Addam folds up his fresh copy of the last week’s Times and puts it into his valise. Polite, urbane Shirley Addam walks to a corner of the dock largely empty of people and looses a string of blistering English profanity at the weedy water beneath him—words that polite, urbane Shirley Addam should not even know, much less employ.
It is too late to get to a telegraph office before the launch leaves for Tripoli. Well, Lady Hester is not a stupid woman, as Shirley has good reason to know. Doubtless she has been milking Jimmy’s attack for all the notoriety it is worth, finding out all she can in the meantime. This Addison fellow—if he is or has ever been active in social circles, Lady Hester will know his entire history within days, if not hours. Shirley will send her a telegram from Tripoli. A shame he cannot suggest that she talk to Oliver Harris, but the social gulf between the Yorkshire lady and the newspaperman is too great for that.
“Signior Addam?” A youngster no older than Jimmy—no older than Jimmy had been—respectfully doffs a sailor’s cap.
“The Ravello is leaving?” Shirley asks. The youngster nods, relieved not to have to exercise his uncertain English. Shirley hefts his valise, follows the boy to the plank and into the launch.
He reads the Times again, slowly and carefully, once he is settled. His eyes dwell on the brief announcement of Jimmy’s murder. He leans forward, elbows on paper-covered knees, the bridge of his nose resting on his joined thumbs, and whispers as much as he can remember of the perfunctory service given over Elizabeth Addams’s fresh grave.
Jimmy is not the first client of Shirley’s lost to a harsher and more powerful Judge than any in the British courts. Shirley had thought the facility to mourn such deaths lost to him. But Jimmy—damn it, why hadn’t Jimmy left town, gone back to York? Why had he put his life at hazard merely to capture Finnegan? The police could perfectly well have done that on their own, given his history and Shirley’s careful description of him in the Times.
Stupid, callow, grateful Jimmy Pilkington. Had the poor wretch believed that Finnegan’s capture would put him out of danger? Had he known of his peril but persisted, merely because of small kindnesses from Shirley?
“G-d in heaven, Shirley Addam, this is your fault, and you will answer for it in the end!” the barrister berates himself. Shirley could have told Jimmy to flee for his life. He could have put the lad on a train to York. Instead he sailed gaily off to Spain while Jimmy testified to the police on his behalf and died for it.
Poor Jimmy. The Times did not say how he was killed; not every body found in the Thames had died by drowning. Besides, Jimmy had said he was giving up the trade in kittens; the sack in his hands was a blind, or a cruel final jest on the part of Finnegan’s thugs. Shirley hoped the end had come quickly and unexpectedly.
Well. What now? Shirley could turn tail and run back to London. He could even justify it to the world: his testimony against Finnegan would be useful, perhaps even necessary. Yet Jimmy had died to give him a chance to win. He might not win, but how could he cost Jimmy his life and then not even finish?
And then, of course, there is Addison and his shadowy employer. The threat to the Ellipse is hardly ended. Shirley himself can expect to be a lightning rod henceforth; should he leave the race now, the other entrants will be in greater danger. Shirley has some tricks up his sleeve they might not.
A coward’s act, to quit now, a coward’s act bested by an unlettered street boy. Very well, then. Tripoli, and Alexandria after it. Shirley’s eyes take note of the newspaper in his lap once again, and the headline detailing the Alexandria riots.
Telegram to Lady Hester, sent from Tripoli en route to Alexandria:
PLEASE WIRE ALEXANDRIA BAHRAIN ALL KNOWN RE ADDISON STOP REGARDS SHIRLEY
(In Tripoli, Shirley finds out that Lady Hester has laid a wager, the other party to which is unknown, on the Grand Ellipse. The news does not please him.)
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