The Blog of Roon

(Having met Shirley’s conditions, Margaret elects to travel with him from Alexandria. They take a carriage to the river, intending to get to Cairo by boat and take the train to the Red Sea in order to avoid a mess at the Suez Canal. Shirley’s reporter-induced headache has gotten worse.)

Margaret offers Shirley a headache powder from her bag, assuring him that it won’t affect his alertness; it’s primarily willowbark, calendula and mint, with a little sugar to offset the truly horrible taste.

“Alertness? Right now I have the approximate alertness of a man nine days drowned. Merciful heavens, Doctor, this is foul. It had better work.”

Margaret assures him that it will. It will work better, as well as kill the taste, if he drinks some tea with it. Then she tells him that if he wants to unburden himself of whatever is on his mind so that he can set it aside and get some rest, she will be glad to listen. She points out that if he is going into the situation he seems to think he is, he will need to be alert and have his wits, and exhaustion is not a state conducive to either.

“I know, I know,” he groans, “but for G-d’s sake, it can wait for Bahrain.” He slumps into the corner of the carriage and folds his arms up tight against his chest. “I am, without any conceivable doubt,” he pronounces carefully, a judge giving sentence, “the stupidest and most selfish blackguard ever to live. Michaels asked me why I hadn’t gone to the constabulary about Finnegan. What could I tell him? I said I’d been remiss. Remiss!” Agitated now, he tears at his short tousled hair with both hands. “If I’d given the police their due, Jimmy would never have had to inform! How on earth can I possibly live with this?”

Margaret’s eyebrows rise, and her tone becomes slightly clipped. She is making a point she doesn’t want Shirley to miss. “Excuse me, Mr. Addam, but I fail to see how you were either stupid or selfish. You told the Times that your assailant reported to Nicky Finn, as I recall the story. You did not name Jimmy to either the police or the Times. You had no way of knowing the ruthlessness these people would employ, as I believe I have said before. You did as seemed best to you at the time, and you did what you thought necessary to protect Jimmy, in not naming him. There are too many “if’s” in your logic, Mr. Addam!”

“Ouch,” Shirley murmurs, the corner of his mouth quirking.

“I say again, you are not responsible for Jimmy’s demise; whomever attacked him bears that guilt. And as for living with it,” her tone gentles considerably, “you learn, and you go on. I have lost patients, when later information showed me where and how I could have saved them. My guilt for their deaths does not bring them back. All I can do is learn, and go on, so that at least their deaths were not wasted. Should, G-d forbid, a similar situation arise in the future, you will not try to protect the innocent solely by your own actions, you will go to the police. It is all you can do now, Shirley.” She lays one hand, very gently, over his.

At her touch Shirley raises his head to look at her. He glances at Esperanza a moment and looks back at Margaret, a question in his eyes. Margaret does not remove her hand; Shirley lays his own over it and presses it. “Yes. Yes, I suppose it is. I needed the reminder; thank you for it.” He lets go and shifts into a straighter, more decorous stance on the carriage seat. “I must apologize to you, ladies, both of you. I have not been at my best this evening, after the shockingly difficult day I have had. I assure you both I am not always an intolerable companion, and I shall endeavour to prove as much.”

“You have not been intolerable now, either. You are distraught, distracted and unwell; that is enough to make anyone a little less than polished.” She leans back in her corner of the carriage, to all appearances quite relaxed, and quirks an eyebrow at him for a second.

His shoulders move upwards, then downwards, a bare inch. “I think I hear the river,” he says. “We must be coming to the ferry. Doctor, my Arabic is nonexistent; will you kindly take care of the arrangements?”

“I shall be happy to. Are we going to the ferry’s ultimate terminus, or are there stops on the way, do you know? It will make it easier if I can simply name my destination, leaving no room for misunderstanding.”

“Harston’s butler said that the rails are in order east of Cairo. I thought we would take this ferry there, and then change to the train for speed, to get to Suez and pick up a launch.”

Margaret nods agreement. “Well enough, then. I suspect we should stay together; I’ve acquired a fair command of Arabic over the past few weeks, and languages come very easily to me, but I am by no means fluent yet. If we present ourselves, there can be no mistake about such details as number of passengers or whether we have baggage.” Her smile is, uncharacteristically, a bit self-deprecating. Usually she shows a face of absolute confidence to the world.

“Agreed,” Shirley says simply, and leans down to pick up his valise.

At a convenient moment on the ferry, when Esperanza cannot hear, Shirley murmurs to Margaret, “I hope there is no one who might—suffer some discomfort—should the obvious inference be made about our association. Rest assured you may throw the impudent young barrister over at your discretion.”

She gives him a smile that can only be described as impish, and whispers back, “My family would be delighted. A barrister is respectable at least, and the way I sent the bubble-headed young puppies I was introduced to away has been my mother’s despair.”

“Ah, so there have only been bubble-headed young puppies? Quel dommage. What is wrong with Englishmen, I ask you?”

“Only that most of them can’t see past their own self-important noses. Most of them were so appalled by my ‘unwomanly’ interests that they couldn’t escape fast enough. And then they lament that they are bored in the company of their wives when they marry!”

Shirley, wisely, replies to this only with a brief chuckle.

Wesley Michaels is waiting for Shirley after dinner. The diminutive, energetic young man politely introduces himself, and asks Shirley if he has a moment to answer a few questions regarding the recent unfortunate Incident and its subsequent events.

“Major Harston informed me that you wished to speak to me, Mr. Michaels,” Shirley answers, tired but inflexibly polite. “What does the Times wish to know?”

“I should like to ask you only a few questions, Mr. Addam. I have no wish to delay you. Naturally, I should like to know whether you were indeed unaware of Lady Davies’s wager on the Grand Ellipse.”

“I had no knowledge of any wager on the part of Lady Davies until I read of it in the Times. I do not know even now who is on the other side of the wager, nor its precise terms.”

“Nobody does, Mr. Addam… although I assure you that
it is a matter of considerable interest in certain circles.”

“Indeed?” Shirley raises his eyebrows. “And which circles might those be?”

“Primarily those who have nothing better to talk about, Mr. Addam.”

A laugh breaks through Shirley’s guarded demeanour. “I don’t wonder.”

“I should also like to know, Mr. Addam,” Michaels goes on, flipping a page, “if you intend to continue in the Grand Ellipse.”

Shirley sighs and sits down, leaning his aching head on one hand. “I have indeed had a trying week, Mr. Michaels; I sometimes wish that the Times were not so indefatigable in its production of foreign editions. Although I daresay I should not complain, as Lady Bonnet and Colonel Davis have suffered rather greater difficulties this week than have I.”

Michaels smiles. “I certainly understand the sentiment, Mr. Addam, although I must admit that to share it would put me out of a job.”

“Let me be quite clear. I am indeed dismayed at this entire Addison business. I hope the man and his employer, whoever that may be, are caught quickly, as their machinations present a danger to the entire Ellipse. I shall do whatever is in my power to aid in the capture of Addison and his gang, as I have done since the Ellipse began.”

Mr. Michaels’s fine ear distinguishes the slow, careful deliberation with which Shirley is choosing his words. “I am also saddened at the murder of my former client Pilkington, the more so because he put himself in harm’s way—in all likelihood unnecessarily—for my sake. I should very much like to see those responsible for his death caught, convicted, and punished.”

Shirley straightens in his chair, then leans toward the newspaperman
opposite him. “It is for poor Jimmy Pilkington’s sake, Mr. Michaels, that I intend to continue the Grand Ellipse. I did consider withdrawing from it; I thought of little else coming from Tripoli, as it appears that my character has come into question as a result of the Addison mess. But young Jimmy risked and lost his life, first out of desire to behave in an ethical fashion, and second, out of a gratitude to me entirely disproportionate to any service I ever did him.

“I should be a poor testament indeed to Jimmy’s courage and his upright nature were I to quit now, Mr. Michaels. Therefore I shall not. As for my own difficulties, I can only endeavour to keep my conduct irreproachable, and hope that the truth will out.”

Michaels finishes off his notes with a flourish. “And lastly, were you in London, what would you advise Lady Davies to do?”

“Why, I should naturally advise Lady Davies to cooperate with authorities, as she is by the Times’s account already doing. I think you mistake our relationship, however, Mr. Michaels; I am not Lady Davies’s private solicitor and it is therefore not my privilege to advise her on legal matters.”

“Thank you for clarifying that matter, Mr. Addam,” Michaels says, sounding quite sincere and not at all sarcastic. “Although one friend may often advise another, regardless of professional obligations or lack thereof. If I may ask one final question… after the unfortunate incident in London, why did you choose to go to the Times, rather than the constabulary?”

“Because I wanted the other Ellipsoids warned as quickly as possible, Mr. Michaels, and I thought the Times would accomplish that more effectively than the London constabulary, which is of necessity focused on London alone. You are quite right that I was remiss, however, and no one regrets that more than I.”

“I see… well, I have no wish to delve further into this obviously sensitive subject. Thank you very much for your time, and good luck! Oh, and by the by, Mr. Harris sends his regards.”

“Kind of him. Please offer Mr. Harris and Bertie mine in return, should you have occasion to.” Shirley arises and offers his hand. “I appreciate your forbearance, Mr. Michaels, and I hope I have not been too difficult. A very good evening to you.”

“Mr. Addam, I have had far worse from people in much better straits. It’s been a pleasure, and should you ever find yourself in Alexandria again, please do call upon me. I shall convey your reply to Mr. Harris when I file my story. If you will kindly excuse me, I would like to interview Dr. Byrd as well.”

“Ah, of course. I was not sure you were aware she was here, so I
hesitated to mention her presence. I envy you, Mr. Michaels; she is quite an impressive person. Good evening.”

“I have been looking forward to meeting the good doctor. Good evening, sir.”

“I do not doubt it,” Shirley agrees courteously, but his expression takes on none of her levity. “Dr. Byrd, your offer is very generous, and I should like to accept, but I truly cannot at this time. Believe me, the reasons I must decline have nothing whatever to do with you or with Esperanza. Pray let me explain.

“On two counts, I think it likely that I have the lion’s share of our Mr. Addison’s attention: first, that of the Ellipsoids I have caused him most trouble to date, and second, that I am the only Ellipsoid on whom a wager is known to have been placed. I am prepared to meet him, as well as I reasonably can be—in fact, I am thinking of employing my interview tonight with the Times to dangle a red cape in front of him, in hopes that he will postpone whatever other plans he may have to deal with me.”

He lowers his voice for Esperanza’s sake. “But I cannot guarantee the safety of anyone travelling with me; I cannot even guarantee my own. I should return poor thanks to your kindness by drawing you into such trouble. And, truthfully, Doctor—I cannot take anything or anyone else onto my conscience just now. The less you see of me, the less you know of me, the better.”

“Now, that said,” he continues in a near-whisper, “I hope you will be not too far ahead of or behind me for the next few legs of our journey. If I am somehow injured, I will need you.”

Margaret holds up her hand. Then she leans forward, both to lower her voice and in emphasis. She is absolutely serious now; there is no hint of her humour of a moment ago. “Mr. Addam, I think you take too much upon yourself. I made the suggestion knowing full well that you consider yourself Mr. Addison’s primary target. That places the consequences, whatever they are, on my conscience, not yours. You are not responsible for my safety and Esperanza’s, I am; and I consider that the potential benefit far outweighs the risk. The Norse had a saying that has come down through their sagas: ‘Bare is brotherless back.’ I can think of no one I would rather have at my back. To be very frank, I suspect I would worry so much about you that I should become a danger to myself. Do you understand?”

“I do, but—”

“I want to help; I want to be in a position to shield you from detection should you be injured; I want to be there to be your shield at least as much as I want you there as mine. Your arguments are rational, and possibly correct, and I consider them all the more reason I would want to be present, at least until these odd incidents cease to hound the footsteps of the Ellipsoids!” Margaret is speaking just above a whisper, but there is no mistaking her passion. “And don’t tell me you’ve done nothing to merit such concern, or that it is misplaced. I am offering what a friend offers; no more and no less. I have not known you long, I realize, but yes, I consider you a friend.”

She takes a deep breath, obviously bringing herself back to her usual restrained manner. “Besides, Mr. Addam, you forget. I work as a physician at the Fleet Charity Hospital, and live nearby. It is hardly a peaceful neighborhood. I have learnt to attend to my own safety there; you need not fear for me so much here. One of the advantages to my training is that I know as well how to take a person apart as well as put him back together. But as I am female, most people discount that.”

“Not I,” Shirley says quietly.

And then, as a sudden thought, Margaret tells him, “I can think of two ways to do this that might satisfy your concerns. One is to travel by the same conveyance, but not openly together. Since we are both known Ellipsoids, that presumes that our opponent does not know me on sight. Or perhaps it is time for Dr. Mark Byrd to travel with his ward, a young Spanish girl. Or I can remain myself. Well, Mr. Addam? Would you please reconsider? I warn you, I may try to stay at near range to you whether we travel together openly or not, and you will find that I can be quite tenacious when I wish to be.” She is sitting still now, with her hands folded, but if Shirley looks, he will see that they are so tightly clasped that the knuckles are white.

Shirley pours two glasses of wine and holds one out to Margaret; he says nothing until she unfolds her hands to take it from him. “I fully intended not to do this,” he says then, disgusted with himself. “No, hear me out, Margaret. Before you decide to accompany me, you must have the whole story. Scotland Yard’s investigation of me was preparatory to making me a temporary operative. Harston is composing a telegram with my acceptance of their terms this very moment, I don’t doubt. The intention, naturally, is to use me as bait for Addison.

“I do not only believe I will be Addison’s target, I am virtually assured of it. No, Margaret, I said hear me out! You should know also that I have no inclination whatever to violence; if we should encounter difficulties that demand it, I will be no help at all. None.”

For the first time, Margaret hears the steely resolve popularly believed to be proper to barristers in Shirley’s words. “Now. If you still wish to travel with me, I must set some conditions that are absolutely closed to negotiation, do you understand? First, you will explain to Esperanza the dangers she is incurring by travelling with me. Before we leave, I will ask her—her, not you—if she has understood and if she is willing; if she is not, you will not accompany me.”

“That is fair. I would have explained it to her in any event, but I do not think you will find that she will shrink any more than I do.”

“Second, until Addison and his associates are dispensed with, I will disembark first and alone when we arrive in an Ellipse station; you will wait until we can be reasonably certain I will not immediately be attacked, or I am in fact attacked—I will not refuse your aid in that case, you see.”

Margaret is silent, but her expression is quite eloquent.

“Third, I must insist that after we arrive in an Ellipse station, we travel separately from the point of arrival to the place where Her Majesty’s representative awaits us.”

“Shirley, that makes no sense! For me to stay at a slight distance would be sensible, but—” she stops. Shirley does not appear to be listening.

“Finally, if Scotland Yard suggests or orders that I travel alone, I must be free to comply with their wishes.”

“Well of course, if you are acting on their behalf. I will ask to see the orders, though.”

“If they are written, I will show them to you. If not, you will have to take my word for it; I promise here and now I shan’t prevaricate.”

Margaret simply nods acceptance of this.

He drains his glass, places it on the tray, and stands up. “I must speak with the reporter now; I intend leaving immediately afterward. If you can meet my conditions, and if you still wish to come with me, you may.”

“I trust that you will allow time for me to speak to the reporter also? I have promised to do so, but I tend not to give lengthy statements.”

“Yes, I will wait. I will wait to see you before I go; you have my word on it. Either way—” his voice softens—“thank you, Margaret dear, and G-d bless you! You are such an extraordinary woman that I rather regret that I am only an ordinary man.”

Without awaiting her reply, he bows to her, nods to Esperanza, and leaves the room. As he goes, she says softly, not knowing if he will hear her: “Not ordinary at all, Shirley Addam. Not ordinary at all.”

They go into the Library. There is a small table, upon which the tray Esperanza was carrying has been placed, with two comfortable chairs on either side. Esperanza herself, however, has not returned. Margaret allows Shirley to seat her, then looks up at him. She is entirely focused on him now, and is not even humming.

Shirley lowers himself slowly into the other chair, and puts his head in his hands. “I might have guessed,” he says, in a voice less deep and resonant than his wont, “that an inappropriate outburst of hysteria would be my unmasking, Dr. Byrd.”

And then Margaret has it. The supraorbital ridge of Shirley’s skull, the jaw, the line of the head and neck—they are all the wrong shape. Now that she looks, knowing what to look for, she finds confirmation in the curve of Shirley’s hip, the waist under the tailored waistcoat.

Whoever “Shirley” is, she is a woman.

Margaret just nods. “It must have been very difficult, wasn’t it? Medicine is a difficult enough profession for a woman to get into. But if you were brilliant, and fascinated by both the law and the good you could do with such training… oh, my. Law is still entirely closed to women. You have my deepest admiration.” It is very clear that she is utterly sincere. Then she grins quite impishly. “I have the clothing and accoutrements to effect a similar transformation in a false compartment in each of my trunks, you know. I can become “Mark” with very little preparation.”

She lays her hand on Shirley’s arm. “But really, it wasn’t the depth of your concern or the emotion it engendered that gave you away. It was physiognomy and anatomy, and I don’t think it would at all obvious to anyone who wasn’t both a physician and intimately aware that a female creature need not be a fragile, shrinking flower. I think your secret is still safe. Certainly it is safe with me.” And then suddenly, wistfully, “I’ve never had a woman friend; I’ve always been too much the odd one because of my pursuits. Please, when we are alone, would you call me Margaret?”

Suddenly tears stand in Shirley’s eyes. “Stop it,” he—she—says ruefully, straightening in the chair in order to reach into a pocket for a handkerchief. “Stop being so kind, Margaret. I haven’t cried in—I hardly know, it must be nearly ten years.

“What a day this has been. I walked into dinner celebrating my narrow escape; Major Harston told me the moment I walked in that Scotland Yard’s been going over my background with a fine-toothed comb. I took care of my legal records myself, of course, quite some time ago, but I’d no idea whether they would stand up to rigourous examination. Apparently they have, though, as Major Harston did not treat me as a lusus naturae.”

Shirley tucks the handkerchief back into a vest pocket. “I was about to tell you to call me Shirley,” she says, “but that is ridiculous on its face. My life is in your hands; I shan’t cavil about my name. It’s Elizabeth. Shirley was my younger brother. I will tell you the story sometime—but I think Esperanza is coming back.”

By the time the young Spaniard has her easel set up, Shirley is once again the mannerly Yorkshire barrister of the pleasantly dark voice. “Now that I consider it further, Doctor, it seems unlikely that Finnegan intended to kill Jimmy from the outset. What about the other assailants? There should have been a wave of murders, but there has been only one. No, the likeliest thing is that Finnegan’s underlings committed the murder, when they learned who betrayed him.

“So, where were we? Yes, quite, events and their motives. The obvious conjecture is that the assaults were an attempt to narrow the field, presumably for the benefit of one contestant. The responsible party might be the contestant, or—as this dreadful business of Lady Hester’s wager demonstrates—someone else with a stake in the results. Or conceivably both, working together or apart; who can say?

“Which contestant? Or is the goal that one particular contestant lose? I don’t know.

“There is another possibility, however, far-fetched though it may be: that the Ellipse is a blind for some intensely secret diplomatic manoeuvre, and the attacks were an attempt to disrupt that, presumably by disrupting the entire race. The ineptitude of the attacks militates against this theory, as does Addison’s history as a trifling man-of-affairs. However, the involvement of Scotland Yard does make me wonder. High though the Ellipse stakes are, I should not have thought them that high.

“The next question is why Addison has left England. He may simply be fleeing Scotland Yard, but in that case I should have gone to the States or South America in his shoes, not Europe. He may wish to exact revenge for his unmasking, in which case I can no doubt expect to hear from him. Or there may yet be hope of him accomplishing his task, whatever that is. That is the possibility that worries me; I wish I could be sure whom he was targeting.”

Margaret frowns thoughtfully for a second. “You know, Mr. Addam, that might not be so far-fetched a theory as it sounds at first blush. If you recall, Her Majesty had her granddaughter Princess Ella with her, although the young lady didn’t speak. I recall reading that the princess been recently betrothed to a Russian duke, though for the life of me I can’t recall which one. Of course, Scotland Yard might also be involved simply of Her Majesty’s patronage of the contest. Since she has given it her public support, I suppose it might be an embarrassment to send out an event that brings disruption and mayhem with it.”

“True. Still, a certain amount of disruption is only to be expected. A dangerous world, Dr. Byrd. As to that—I still must respectfully disagree that the Alexandria explosions are connected to our situation, unless they were truly spectacularly bungled. I checked Lord Harston’s book. The only person to have been caught in the riots was Lord Longsworth-Brunfondle, the first to arrive. But do go on.”

“I’ve been pondering this,” replies the doctor, “and I believe what we may have is a combination of factors. Your patron has placed a wager on you, and possibly on other aspects of the competition. It would surprise me greatly if others of sufficient means and insufficient useful occupation have not done likewise. Some person or persons unknown have taken those bets, and that gives them an interest in the outcome. I would think that both the individual competitors and the order in which they finish might be subjects of interest, and of manipulation by the unscrupulous.”

“I fear I must add a slightly more sinister possibility: that competitors finishing at all may be the subject of a wager. I rather think Lady Davies’s wager must be something similar, though she steadily refuses to inform me on the subject.” He bows toward her slightly. “Given the quality of the field, Lady Davies cannot possibly have cared to risk a large amount on my victory. Her confidence in my finishing the race might well be rather higher. Mark that this also explains why the attempts to inconvenience us thus far have not been dangerous, much less lethal; there has been no need to risk lethal force.” Shirley glances at Esperanza, and then raises his eyebrows at Margaret. That previous attacks were non-lethal is no guarantee for the future. Margaret will understand; Shirley need not frighten the Spanish girl by speaking his thought.

“It may also be that we have some less than honorable co-competitors, who are attempting to improve their position by delaying the rest of us.”

Shirley sighs. “I earnestly hope not, but I cannot discount the possibility. It is perhaps a measure of my naivete, Dr. Byrd, that I entered this contest considering no more hindrances than the ordinary ones of travel.”

The doctor nods. “As for Addison, it seems to me that he would prefer to be the mind behind whatever attempts are made. He might have come to Europe simply because his first attempt to influence matters was so spectacularly unsuccessful, and he wants to be closer at hand.”

“Well, I think it fairly clear he left to evade the Yard; he did not go until Finnegan’s capture imperiled him. But I daresay you are correct about his current aims. We shall hear of him again, I am certain of it. I hope Scotland Yard gets to him first.”

“As do I!” interjects Margaret. “And Mr. Addam? Would you be interested in travelling together for a time? We are well set to observe the proprieties,” she nods toward Esperanza; “and I believe it might provide a measure of safety to each of us.” She looks like she is trying not to laugh outright. “And between us, I would say our ability to think our way out of any situation we might find ourselves in formidable enough to give even Mr. Holmes pause!”

On her way to dinner, Margaret Byrd has to stop short to keep the library door from striking her as it opens into the corridor.

The young barrister Shirley Addam walks out of the library, a little thinner and rather darker of skin than when they left London. Immediately he sees what has happened. “Why, Dr. Byrd! I do apologize; I did not hear you passing, or I should not have opened the door so quickly. I hope it did not hit you. May I accompany you to the dining room?”

Margaret smiles. “Mr. Shirley, how good to see you, and in such fine form. No need to apologize; no harm was done, and I would be delighted to go to dinner with you. I have many things I would like to discuss with you, so really, this is most serendipitous. Shall we?” And she takes his arm.

Only two places are laid at table. Shirley steers Margaret to one of them and holds her chair for her, without making a major production of it. “Major Harston is otherwise occupied and will not be with us this evening; I fear you will have to make do with me.” He takes the chair opposite; a servant places bowls of bean soup before them.

“I imagine Colonel Barstow gave you my note?”

“Indeed he did, and it gave me great cause for concern. That is one of the things I wished to discuss with you. But first, excuse me while I speak to the servant. I must be sure dinner will be made available to my companion, Esperanza.” She speaks to the servant briefly, then returns. “Good; Esperanza has made friends with the cook already, and is happily chattering away and enchanting the kitchen staff. I imagine she is quite comfortable; her father is Colonel Barstow’s cook, from Gibralter.” She tastes the soup. “Oh, this is lovely. Now, I must tell you that I had an encounter similar to yours. I still have the note the poor hapless man was carrying. I must say, I did wonder if the poor chap spent some time apprenticed to a hatter. He nearly did himself an injury trying to injure me. Really, he seemed almost mentally deficient. Unfortunately, I was unable to get him to tell me who sent him, so I hadn’t followed up on the incident. I have had no untoward experiences since, though. You?”

“You must have been fortunate enough to miss them in Malta. A group of them was posing as protesters on the docks when I arrived. I had the good fortune to have travelled with a truly exceptional ship’s crew, however. They went entirely out of their way to be sure I got to Valetta Palace safely.”

“You know, Mr. Addam, we saw the protesters on the docks in Malta, but they didn’t take any particular notice of us. They did cause the Captain of my ship some consternation, though, and he quite refused to permit us to set foot ashore unescorted. He went with us to sign the register for the contest, and then we sailed on with him to Naples. If they were ruffians looking for the Ellipsoids, they may have been thrown off by the presence of the Captain and Esperanza; they would have been looking for an unaccompanied Englishwoman. Hmmm.” And she ponders for a bit, humming under her breath. After a bit, Shirley may recognize the tune of a popular American music hall tune, “Daisy, Daisy.”

“There is,” Shirley says quietly, “at least some chance they were looking specifically for me. I cannot be sure, as I gave them no opportunity to recognize me. Have you kept up with the Times at all? It appears that the prime mover here is one Mr. Herbert Addison. Scotland Yard is on his trail. He is known to do less-than-savoury business for—well, for the highly-placed. It appears my own patron Lady Davies got mixed up with him somehow, much to my surprise and, I may say, consternation. Addison is still loose, somewhere in the world, and I should think him rather more competent than some of his hires. I do urge you and your companion to take all sensible precautions, Dr. Byrd.” There is no mistaking Shirley’s words and tone for anything other than frank sincerity.

Suddenly Margaret looks up and steeples her fingers. “All right, Mr. Addam, you make sense. I have some questions I should like to put to you, but we may as well be comfortable about it.” She turns and addresses the waiting servant quietly, requesting the next course and tea to drink with it. She does so in Arabic. Then she turns back. “I’ve just asked for the next course and some tea. Everyone has been most assiduous in warning me not to drink the water, and indeed, I’ve no wish to be delayed by dysentery or dyspepsia. Now, first of all, what is the source of your information concerning Mr. Addison? Have you seen a copy of the London Times since our departure? And you were obviously looking for something in the library, and may have found it, judging by your expression when you nearly ran into me. Would you be so kind as to tell me what it is?

“You have endeavoured to put me on my guard, but if I am to be careful and still travel, I need to know what it is I am guarding against. We are indeed competitors, but we are also Englishmen in a strange land, heading into stranger, and that is a greater bond, I should think. Will you help me to the extent of sharing information, Mr. Addam? And if I have any for you, I will surely do the same.” And she tips her head to one side, waiting. She begins to hum quietly again. This time it is from the newly published ballads collected by Francis Childe, “The Three Marys.”

The force of the doctor’s questions and her obvious irritation cause the young man to push himself back from the table a trifle. “Dr. Byrd, I assure you,” he says apologetically, “it was never my intent to hide anything about this sordid business from you. I simply did not know you had not been watching the foreign editions of the Times. They are available in the library for your perusal; I was reading them myself before dinner.” At that last word, the servants re-enter with a steaming pot of tea and the fish course.

“Let me save you some trouble, however, and give you the story.” He explains his connexion with Jimmy Pilkington, and the late-night prowl that led him to Nicholas Finnegan. “Finnegan, so says the Times, was apprehended on the 7th, after a tip from Jimmy as to his whereabouts. After some questioning, Scotland Yard took over the case, connecting Finnegan to the Herbert Addison I mentioned to you a moment ago.

“The Times is cagey on this point, but it appears that the Yard raided Addison’s office, finding there records connecting him to my patron Lady Davies as well as our competitor Lord Longsworth-Brunfondle.” Shirley clears his throat and takes a sip of tea. “I do not in fact know what Lady Davies can have had to do with this man, though a telegram from her awaited me here claiming she had no connexion whatever with Addison’s Ellipsoid business. Longsworth-Brunfondle has claimed in the Times that had he known of Addison’s associates he would have had nothing to do with him.”

Shirley disposes efficiently of half his fish, wipes his mouth, and continues. “When I encountered the protesters on the Maltese docks, I listened to them out of sight while casting about for some way to get off the docks without being seen. They mentioned that they were waiting for Nicholas Finnegan, and that they were being paid for their efforts. I so informed Lord Weatherby, who promised me he would have them questioned.”

He turns his attention to the remainder of the fish, and nods at the servant to take the plate. “So that is where we are, Dr. Byrd. Addison has left England; where he is now no one seems to know precisely. I surmise that he holds a specific rancour toward me, as my interference led to Finnegan’s capture and his own discomfiture; what his other plans may be I know no more than you.”

He leans back in his chair. “Now, I had not known until tonight that there had been attempts on other Ellipsoids as well, though I cannot say that I am wholly surprised by it. It might be wise to leave Major Harston a note to that effect, if you would, though if I were you I should not mention it to the Times nor allow Major Harston to, as you might risk Mr. Addison’s wrath thereby.”

The smell of roast lamb makes itself known to them; Major Harston must have given orders for quite a feast. “May I answer any questions, to excuse my fault and prove my goodwill, Dr. Byrd?” Shirley asks as he allows his plate to be laid before him.

Margaret addresses herself assiduously to her meal for a moment. When she looks up, her expression is rueful and her tone much gentler. “Mr. Addam, it is I who should be offering amends to you. You have been recipient of my irritation with the common attitude of men towards women where the subject of shady dealing is concerned. Most men treat us as children, as fragile creatures who must be protected and shielded, and not as intelligent beings who can and will act in our own behalf if we have the information to do so. I have learned to be overly forceful in order to overcome the instinctual ‘pat on the head’ that seems to be the first response of too many of the males in our society. Please, do forgive me. You have given no indication that your attitude or thoughts are anything of the kind; indeed, you have accorded me the greatest respect intellectually as well as by your manners, and I must admit I find you personally quite charming.” She smiles a little, then turns musing.

Shirley returns her smile, respectful admiration in his eyes. “I can well imagine you have often been provoked. I accept your apology without reservation, and I thank you for your kind opinion of me. I hope indeed we may become friends despite our status as competitors. I should think such a friendship would last longer than this race.”

“As to your advice,” Margaret goes on, “I believe I will not only inform our host of my misadventures in Brighton in light of your experience, but give him a letter to Scotland Yard to enclose with his usual dispatches. While the Times need not know, I believe the authorities should.” She finishes her fish, and turns to sip at her tea, humming again. It sounds like it might be something from HMS Pinafore.

Then she looks up. “Mr. Addam, I’m going to indulge in conjecture here, and I should like your opinion. We were each accosted before we left England, by someone inept but offering the same sort of crude physical violence to induce us to quit. Nothing seemed amiss at Gibraltar, but in Malta protests broke out shortly before we were due to arrive, which may have been aimed specifically at you, and now we find Alexandria disrupted by having its primary rail system dynamited, again immediately before we were due to begin arriving. I add to that that this Mr. Addison apparently has connexions to both your patron and one of our fellow competitors, a man of singularly unpleasant personality who is travelling by a route which is not vulnerable to land-based disruptions. Taken cumulatively, I believe that Mr. Conan-Doyle’s detective Holmes might begin to perceive a pattern. Do you think someone might be trying to disrupt the Ellipse, or the Ellipsoids?”

Just at that moment, the servant presents her with a plate containing lamb surrounded by some sort of grain and fruit dish. After a moment of thought, she decides that this must be couscous. “Oh, my, but this smells heavenly!” And she looks across at Shirley, awaiting his answer.

Shirley is thinking furiously, eyebrows knitted and eyes cast down, as he waits for the servants to leave them be. Margaret takes the opportunity to study his face: sharp-featured, rather thin and high-cheekboned, not at all the caricature of the broad-beamed, heavy-browed Yorkshireman. Something bothers her about his face; she is not sure what. No disfigurement there, certainly. Nor is it the sudden guardedness of his expression; he has every reason to be concerned about the situation they have found themselves in. Something else, something subtle… what?

The barrister glances up, notices her watching him. “I am sorry—lost in my own thoughts. This is indeed a puzzle worthy of Holmes, Dr. Byrd, and I fear I am far from solving it. I will share my thoughts thus far; please correct me where you see fit.

“The line between Jimmy, Finnegan, Addison, and the Malta protesters seems incontrovertible. As yet I have no evidence regarding the Alexandria explosions, and I am inclined right now not to think them part of this; they were too violent, too random, and required rather more than just money and brute human strength to accomplish, unlike the assaults on us and the protest in Malta.

“Leaving that aside, then, who is above Addison in this line of Ellipse-disrupters? The connexion between Addison, my patron, and Lord Longsworth-Brunfondle is by no means clear to me; it may be a bit of trumpery on the part of the Times, or an honest mistake on the part of the Yard. Certainly any papers in Addison’s office concerning plans for the Ellipse would contain the names now being bruited about.

“Now, by all means consider that I am biased with regard to my patron, Doctor, but I cannot believe her responsible for assaults, even false ones, wager or no wager—and it would seem that the Yard agrees, or both she and I would now be in gaol. If she is innocent despite her presence in Addison’s papers, Lord Longsworth may also be; I fully concur with you as to his personal qualities, but I cannot go so far as to blame him for this just yet.

“That leaves us nowhere, really; we cannot know at this point who is directing Addison. So we must consider the occurrences once again, and possible motives for them.

“I cannot imagine that we were the only two Ellipsoids assaulted; there is no connexion between us other than our participation in the race. I think it safe to assume that most, if not all, of the other Ellipsoids were also attacked, and the remaining attacks were unsuccessful as those directed at us.

“Either all the assaults were genuine but incompetent—or they were faked, intentionally bumbled. Why fake so many attacks, though? Each additional fake means an additional man in the plot, a man who can be captured or become an informer as Jimmy in fact did. And the calibre of the Ellipsoids in general, saving my presence, is such that they are unlikely to be frightened off by such intentional foolishness; false attacks make no sense.

“No, Dr. Byrd, I am inclined to think the attacks were real. Finnegan may well have been short of trustworthy hands to carry them out, if the real gang was en route to Malta—or elsewhere.”

“Or,” Margaret points out, “he may have intentionally chosen attackers he thought expendable, regardless of their competence or lack thereof. If his goal was merely to frighten us away, he might not care a great deal what happened to the attackers afterward.”

Shirley’s fork pauses half-raised; he stares at her, dumbstruck. “Dear heaven,” he whispers. “You may be right. May G-d have mercy on my soul.”

“My dear Mr. Addam! Whatever is the matter?”

Shirley lays the fork down and tosses off his glass of wine in a single swallow. The goblet trembles in his hand as he returns it to the table. “Jimmy. Jimmy Pilkington,” Shirley answers in a choked whisper. “He was murdered in London a day after the Times revealed his role in Finnegan’s capture. I did not mention it to you—it did not seem relevant—and G-d help me, I have thought of little else for a week.”

He shudders. “It is bad enough that I did not tell the lad to leave London—I ought to have put him on the train to York myself—but to think that he was a dead man the minute Finnegan tapped him to assault me—this is intolerable!”

Margaret immediately turns to the servant and signals for more wine for Mr. Addam. Then she beckons him over, and asks that he find Esperanza and ask her to come and assist them with the remainder of the meal. Then she turns back to Shirley. “My dear Mr. Addam, your compassion does you great credit.” Her voice is very gentle. “But how were you to know the level of ruthlessness those behind these events would be willing to employ? Hindsight provides perfect vision, but unless we are in the counsels of the Almighty, we cannot know what the future holds. Surely, if Jimmy was an innocent tool, the Almighty will care for his soul. But those who murdered him are responsible for their deed. You cannot be.” Her little chuckle is obviously directed at herself. “We cannot take care of all the world, Mr. Addam… as I have keep trying to remind myself.”

Shirley closes his eyes and wills his hands and his voice to stop shaking. Whatever it is about his face, Margaret finds it yet more apparent now. She almost has the oddity pinned down when he composes himself at last and opens his eyes. “Thank you, Dr. Byrd. I must still blame myself for not warning Jimmy. But you are right; our sphere of individual influence is unfortunately limited.”

She looks down, and changes the subject. “I am not quite willing to dismiss the Alexandria explosions. I should like to know if there has been unrest in the area that has erupted violently before this. Sometimes it takes only a match, if the fuse is already in place. But we cannot resolve that either way just now.”

“I believe there has in fact been unrest, though I do not know of any violence. While you are pondering, however—Major Harston informed me that the ship Lady Bonnet was on was attacked by pirates in the Mediterranean. Just one more datum.”

Esperanza comes in, with a tray containing the dessert, fruit, and more tea. She is openly curious about what has been going on, and on the whole glad to have been summoned. “Ah, Esperanza, my dear! I hope you have been enjoying yourself?” Esperanza agrees that she has. “Now, my dear, I believe that the conversation is going to become such that we would not want the ears of servants unknown to us about. Would you be a dear and take that tray into the Library? Then go and get your painting supplies and return. If you are with us, and I give instructions that you will assist us as we may need, then Mr. Addams and I should be able to talk undisturbed. I trust you not to discuss what you hear with anyone save the two of us, so I would rather have you than anyone else. And I know you have been wishing for the opportunity to paint some of the things you’ve sketched as we sailed.” She smiles, and Esperanza smiles back. They have obviously developed a warm relationship.

Margaret turns back to Shirley. “Mr. Addam? Would you care to retire to the Library? I intend to take my glass and the decanter of this excellent wine along.” She gets up from her chair, and goes around to Shirley. “Come, please. Let us go where we can speak more freely. I do not want the innocent hurt any more than you do.”

Shirley stands up and offers his arm. “There may be an unpleasant surprise in the library, in the form of a reporter from the Times waiting to talk to me, but let us hope that Esperanza can dispose of him, or that he has not yet arrived.”

And as they walk toward the library, she says very quietly, “Mr. Addam, I am indeed an adventurer, but I am also a physician, and trained to observe people from that perspective. Is there something you might wish to discuss? I can assure you that the only people who hold a confidence as closely as a barrister must is a physician. Please, do forgive me if the question is too personal, but be sure it arises only from sincere concern, and I wished to ask you before Esperanza returns.”

(Ellipse frontrunner Lord Percy Longsworth-Brunfondle, implicated in the Finnegan/Addison affair, has a letter published in the Times which concludes with the postscript: “I hear that Lady Hester drinks quite heavily; hope this helps.”)

Telegram to Lady Hester Davies:

ALEXANDRIA 19TH STOP RECOMMEND YOU BUY BACK WAGER STOP LONGSWORTH COMMENT TIMES 15TH DEFAMATORY STOP JUDGMENT IN ABSENTIA POSSIBLE STOP SHIRLEY

When Lady Hester takes this oblique communique to her private solicitor Mr. Middlebury (a beefy, unlikely-looking man, but very intelligent and quite discreet), he goes off into one of the inane high-pitched giggles that have caused so many to underestimate him. “Hee hee hee, Lady Davies, really, young Mr. Addam is—hee hee!—most devious; I should not have expected it of him. What was it Longsworth-Brunfondle said? That you drink, wasn’t it? Yes, yes, I should say that would be defamation in the eyes of a court, quite so, since you are a lady. For a gentleman, you understand, it would not be quite so—hee hee!—serious.”

He barks for a clerk to find him the appropriate issue of the Times, and then addresses her with all due gravity. “Lady Davies, I do not necessarily advise that you sue Lord Longsworth-Brunfondle for defamation. Any such proceeding will unquestionably be a nasty business and cause all sorts of rumour and scandal.

“However, allow me to lay out Mr. Addam’s reasoning for you. If you bring a case, you could demand a substantial sum of money, substantial enough that not even Lord Longsworth-Brunfondle would care to ignore the suit. Now, Lord Longsworth-Brunfondle’s solicitor will undoubtedly claim the suit to be frivolous beforehand. My professional opinion, however, accords with Mr. Addam’s that the evidence is sufficient to bring the case to trial; moreover, Lord Longsworth-Brunfondle is unlikely to bridle his tongue—hee hee!—and so additional evidence will likely be forthcoming.

“Should Lord Longsworth-Brunfondle fail to appear in court to
defend himself, the judgment must go against him, regardless of the facts of the case—that is what Mr. Addam means by judgment in absentia. Given your position, and the general interest in the Grand Ellipse, I think it possible to obtain an early court date, such that to appear he would be forced to give up the race—hee hee! Most devious, yes indeed, most devious, Lady Davies. The decision is yours; I am at your disposal.”

His eyes twinkle. “I cannot, however, counsel you on the advisability of buying back your wager. That is entirely your affair, Lady Davies.”

(Disclaimer: I am neither solicitor nor barrister. Nor even lawyer. The law quoted above is likely entirely incorrect. If you have a legal problem, go see a professional about it.)

A telegram from Lady Hester awaits Shirley at the checkpoint in Alexandria. It is delivered to him while he is waiting for Major Harston.

DEAREST SHIRLEY COMMA EXPECT TO BE CLEARED OF ANY INVOLVEMENT IN ELLIPSOID INCIDENT STOP SCOTLAND YARD TRACKING ADDISON STOP DO NOT REPEAT DO NOT CONCERN YOURSELF WITH MY WAGER STOP BEG YOU TO CONTINUE WITH ALL POSSIBLE SPEED STOP CHECK TIMES EARLIEST OPPORTUNITY STOP GODSPEED STOP LADY H END

Shirley barely has time to read the telegram before he is conducted into Major Harston’s office. It is immaculate, except for the pile of handkerchiefs (apparently used) on the corner of the desk. Harston sneezes repeatedly and gestures Shirley towards an open ledger on a side table. Next to it is a stack of brass tokens.

“Please excuse me, Mr. Addam. I should ask you to shake hands, only I have no wish to spread this miserable contagion.”

“G-d bless you, Major Harston,” says Shirley to the most violent sneeze. “I hope this is nothing serious.” He signs the book and puts a token in his vest pocket. “Pray forgive my importunity, but have you a copy of the last few days’ London Times? Normally I would not be so concerned, but as you know, my patron and I have been rather prominently featured in those pages lately.”

“I have been saving them in the library; you are welcome to peruse them at your leisure. You are aware of the—” Several sneezes erupt midsentence, and Harston blows his nose with a noise that would do a bull elephant in heat proud. “Excuse me… of the suspicions surrounding one Mr. Addison? He was last seen in Switzerland, I believe. Other than that—well, before I can continue, we must settle another matter.”

“I am certain that it is no surprise to you that Scotland Yard has taken a great deal of interest in the Grand Ellipse generally, and you specifically, Mr. Addam. I am also certain that you would not be surprised to learn that I have been in touch with the Yard regarding your imminent arrival. The detectives have been in York, investigating, for nearly a week now.”

“I see,” says Shirley evenly. “I will of course cooperate with the Yard in any way I can.”

Major Harston looks immensely relieved at Shirley’s statement. “Excellent!” Another sneezing fit. “Knew we could count on you.” More sneezing, and another ear-splitting use of the handkerchief, which then joins its sodden fellows on the corner of the desk.

“Here’s what we propose—Scotland Yard has asked me to convince you to go on about the Grand Ellipse as if nothing has happened.” He holds up a hand, forestalling any response that Shirley might make. “I know you’ll likely want to go back to York immediately, defend Lady Hester, and all that, but Scotland Yard reckons this Addison blighter will come after you, or another Ellipsoid, soon enough. I have been authorized to deputize you as an assistant operative. Completely up to you of course, and no one would blame you if you turned it down. Dangerous work, eh what?” An impressively long chain of sneezes interrupts the Major’s recruiting speech.

Shirley blinks in surprise (and, truth be told, relief) before
collecting himself to answer. “Well, that is—somewhat unexpected, Major. I had rather thought the Yard would clap me in irons on suspicion of collusion. My patron’s ill-advised wager, and all that.”

Harston is caught between laughing and sneezing, and ends up doing both at once, with predictably uncomfortable results. His eyes are watering as he speaks. “My dear Mr. Addam, you underestimate yourself. The Yard’s investigations are nothing if not thorough, and I daresay that the entirety of York’s judiciary expects Diogenes to arrive at your door any day now. Even Judge Remington, with whom you have had more than one… professional disagreement. True, Lady Davies’s wager was ill-advised, but never criminal. No, Mr. Addam, I—and the Yard—believe that is indeed as she said to the Times; she merely wished to show her support for her protege. Oh, and by the by, your landlady thinks it’s long past time you met a nice girl and settled down to raise a family, even if it means she’d lose a tenant who always pays the rent on time.”

Shirley is taken by an explosive fit of coughing that would do Major Harston himself credit. “Good Lord!” he exclaims at last, reaching for his handkerchief to wipe his eyes. “I shall have to change my rooms.” Major Harston laughs along with Shirley, secure in the knowledge that he has, indeed, gotten the joke… whatever it was.

Shirley rubs his chin thoughtfully. “I have no positive objection to the arrangement you have put forward, you understand. Indeed, I see its merits. Of the Ellipsoids, I seem to have caused our Mr. Addison most difficulty; I am therefore his natural target, the likeliest to encounter him. I should certainly not like to put another Ellipsoid in that position; as you say, it is not a safe one.

“I fear the Yard has rather overestimated me, however. You will think the less of me, no doubt, Major Harston, but the truth is I’ve not so much as fired a gun in my life. I daresay I should be quite unable to take Addison into custody even were I to find him. Can the Yard possibly find me useful?”

“Forgive my directness, Mr. Addam, but I believe the Yard intends to use you as bait. You made such an offer to Her Majesty’s Representative in Malta, did you not? Are you willing to stand by that offer now?”

Shirley meets Harston’s eyes directly. “I did make that offer to Keating, Major Harston, and I stand by it without hesitation. Have you specific instructions for me?”

“The Yard wishes you to continue on to Bahrain and Madras with all possible speed; for reasons I am not privy to, the detectives believe that Addison intends to make his next move in India. Other than that… I cannot say, other than to assure you that you will receive further instructions when the time is right.”

Harston sneezes again, and pulls a fresh handkerchief out of a desk drawer. “If you would like to join Dr. Byrd and her protegee for supper, please feel welcome. And of course, you may stay the night here; we’ve plenty of guest rooms. Unfortunately, I have a great deal of paperwork to catch up on, and cannot join you myself.”

“I accept your kind offer of dinner, but I rather think I should get on my way immediately afterward, if that is a feasible thing. I envision two obvious courses of action for Mr. Addison. He might indeed pursue me—but he might also pursue the foremost contenders. I should like to catch up with Lady Bonnet, if that is even possible.”

“Of course, Mr. Addam. Up and at them, eh? Though I believe you’ll find it rather easier to catch up withLady Bonnet; she was delayed two days as a result of a pirate attack on her way from Crete. Dreadful situation, I understand. Lucky to have escaped.”

“I should telegraph Lady Davies before I leave, though. Might I prevail upon you to take care of that for me? No hurry; tomorrow will be fine.”

“I shall be happy to do so, Mr. Addam. Simply leave your missive on the table,”— he gestures towards a small writing table in the corner—“and I shall have it sent first thing in the morning.” He sketches a bow in Shirley’s direction. “I shall commend you most highly to Scotland Yard in my next communique, Mr. Addam. You are a very resourceful young man, and I expect great things shall come to you in time. Oh, and before I forget, Mr. Michaels—the correspondent from the Times—should like to collect a statement of some sort from you. He’ll be ’round a bit later, I expect.”

“Oh, dear. I suppose I shall have to stay long enough for that. I
confess I am not enjoying the prospect. Ah, well, all part of the Grand
Ellipse, I suppose.”

Harston smiles, “The price of fame, Mr. Addam. Although I believe you shall find our Mr. Michaels a most agreeable chap.”
A sniffle, then more sneezing. “A very good evening to you, Mr. Addam.”

“And to you, Major Harston. I hope your cold soon eases.”

“Thank you Mr. Addam. I should not like to delay Dr. Byrd, but perhaps she can spare me a few moments. In the meantime, you may find the library two doors down, on the left.”