Jimmy hadn't slept. Three hours staring at his ceiling in Mrs. Price's boarding house, watching shadows shift while his mind raced through scenarios and contingencies.
By dawn, he'd filled six notebook pages with strategies for managing Ada's betrayal without destroying her or himself. None of them felt adequate.
The morning was gray and cold despite September's usual warmth, Birmingham's smoke thicker than usual. Jimmy walked to Webb's school through streets that felt oppressive, the weight of unsolved problems pressing down like physical force.
He arrived at eight, expecting to find Webb preparing for the school day. Instead, the teacher sat at his desk surrounded by papers, clearly having been there for hours.
Financial records, campaign documents, business registrations—all spread across the surface in organized chaos.
Webb looked up as Jimmy entered. His expression was cold.
"Close the door."
Jimmy closed it, recognizing the tone. This was confrontation, not collaboration.
"Campaign funding comes from Shelby Company Limited," Webb said without preamble. "I traced the donations. Your political action committee is a shell organization. The money depositing into our campaign account originates from betting operations and protection rackets."
He gestured to the papers. "I spent the night following the trail. It wasn't even particularly well hidden once I knew where to look."
The words hit like punches. Jimmy had been careful with the financial architecture, but Webb was smarter than anticipated.
Of course he was—Jimmy had taught him to analyze systems critically, to look beneath surface appearances. The student had learned too well.
"You needed funding to compete with Blackwood," Jimmy said. "The source matters less than what you accomplish with the resources."
"The source is criminal enterprises." Webb's voice was flat. "You've made me a gangster's puppet. Everything you taught me about strategic thinking and political pragmatism was just training me to be controlled. You manipulated me from the first conversation."
"I recruited you because you genuinely care about Birmingham's families. That hasn't changed."
"Everything's changed." Webb stood, pacing the small classroom. "I thought I was learning practical politics. I was being groomed as a front for organized crime. Every position I've taken, every speech I've given, every promise I've made—all of it in service of Tommy Shelby's expansion into legitimate government."
Jimmy felt the operation collapsing. "You can still help working families. Being connected to the Shelbys doesn't prevent you from doing good work."
"It makes me complicit in their crimes. It makes every reform I achieve a cover for their corruption." Webb faced him directly. "I won't do it. I'm withdrawing from the race."
The declaration landed like explosion. Four months of work, hundreds of hours of strategy, thousands of pounds spent—all evaporating because Webb had asked the questions Jimmy had hoped he'd avoid.
"If you withdraw, Lawrence Blackwood wins. Everything you wanted to accomplish disappears."
"Better to accomplish nothing honestly than accomplish something as a puppet." Webb began gathering papers. "I'm calling Dr. Foster this morning. We'll issue a statement citing personal reasons. The campaign ends today."
"Foster will ask questions."
"Then I'll answer them honestly. Something I should have demanded from you months ago."
Jimmy's mind raced through options. Threats wouldn't work—Webb wasn't afraid of Shelbys, just opposed to being used by them. Bribes were useless—money was the problem, not the solution.
Manipulation had already been exposed and rejected.
"Give me two days," Jimmy said finally. "Two days to show you something before you make this decision final."
"Show me what? More rationalization about how criminal funding serves noble purposes?"
"Show you reality. Birmingham as it actually exists, not as you imagine it should be. If you still want to withdraw after seeing what I show you, I won't stop you."
Jimmy kept his voice steady despite internal panic. "Two days. That's all I'm asking."
Webb considered this, clearly torn between immediate action and intellectual curiosity. Finally, he nodded. "Two days. But understand, Mr. Cartwright—this campaign is over. The only question is whether it ends quietly or with public exposure of who's been funding it."
Jimmy left the school feeling his control slipping. Webb was the campaign's foundation. Without him, everything collapsed.
And Jimmy had no clear path to salvage the situation—only desperate hope that showing Webb Birmingham's reality might make him choose complicity over purity.
The first crisis of the morning. But not the last.
---
[SECTION D SAFE HOUSE]
Captain Raymond Shaw sat in the converted warehouse office reviewing intelligence reports with the methodical attention of career officer accustomed to finding patterns in data. Three maps covered the wall behind him—Birmingham divided into territories, gang operations marked in red, political connections in blue.
"Update on the Shelby political operation," Shaw said to Lieutenant Hendricks, who stood at attention beside the desk.
"Our asset continues providing intelligence. Latest report indicates internal campaign problems—financial irregularities discovered, candidate questioning his backers." Hendricks consulted his notes. "Asset suggests Webb might withdraw, which would effectively end Shelby attempt to secure council seat."
"Good." Shaw marked something on his ledger. "The asset has proven extremely valuable. Ideologically motivated, access to inner circle, sophisticated enough to understand significance of intelligence. What's their motivation again?"
"Principled opposition to organized crime controlling government. Asset believes they're protecting Birmingham's democratic institutions." Hendricks smiled slightly. "Classic true believer—thinks they're acting heroically by providing intelligence."
"And they have no idea we're intelligence services?"
"None. Asset thinks they're helping legitimate reform candidate against criminal interference. We've carefully maintained that impression."
Shaw pulled out a file marked "ASSET: OBSERVER"—their designation for Ada Shelby, though Shaw still didn't know her actual identity. "Remarkable how useful true believers are. They do intelligence work voluntarily, require no payment, and never question whether they're being manipulated.
Asset has provided more actionable intelligence about Shelby operations in three months than our paid informants managed in three years."
"Should we recruit Asset directly? Offer official cooperation?"
"No. Asset is more useful believing they're acting independently. Direct recruitment creates complications—questions about methods, concerns about legality, moral hesitation." Shaw closed the file. "Keep Asset in place. Continue providing minimal guidance disguised as reform organizing. Let them believe they're resisting the Shelbys heroically while we document everything."
"And when the campaign collapses?"
"We'll have comprehensive documentation of Shelby political operations, methods, connections. That intelligence will be valuable for future operations." Shaw lit a cigarette. "Asset has served their purpose beautifully without ever realizing they were serving us."
Hendricks departed to update operational logs. Shaw returned to his maps, adding new information to the web of connections. The Shelby organization was complex, dangerous, increasingly sophisticated. But Shaw was patient.
Eventually, they'd make mistakes. Eventually, his documentation would be sufficient for coordinated response that crushed them permanently.
And Asset would never know they'd been instrumental in their own family's destruction.
---
The family meeting that evening was tense before Jimmy even arrived. He could hear Arthur's raised voice from outside the betting shop—demanding action, threatening violence, the usual response when problems became complicated.
Inside, Tommy sat at his desk with the contained fury Jimmy had learned meant serious trouble. Polly occupied her usual chair, expression grave. Arthur paced like caged animal.
John leaned against the wall, watching everyone with careful attention.
"Close the door," Tommy said.
Jimmy closed it, already knowing this conversation would be brutal.
"Webb's discovered our involvement," Jimmy reported. "He traced campaign funding to Shelby operations. Threatening to withdraw from the race."
The silence was immediate and complete. Even Arthur stopped pacing.
"How did he discover it?" Tommy's voice was dangerously quiet.
"He's intelligent. I taught him to analyze systems and question sources. He applied those lessons to his own campaign." Jimmy set his notebook on the desk. "I've asked for two days to show him Birmingham's reality. If I can demonstrate that Shelby connections don't prevent him from helping people, he might continue."
"And if he doesn't?" Arthur asked.
"Then the campaign collapses. Four months of work wasted, two thousand pounds spent for nothing, and Blackwood wins easily."
Tommy lit a cigarette with measured precision. "What else?"
"The leak. I've identified the source." Jimmy pulled out his investigation file. "Ada's been providing campaign information to Catherine Winters. She's the traitor."
The silence somehow deepened. Polly closed her eyes briefly. Arthur's face went red. John straightened from the wall, shock clear in his expression.
"Ada?" John said. "Our Ada?"
"Your Ada." Jimmy kept his voice clinical, professional. "She's been attending Winters' campaign meetings, providing strategic intelligence, helping the opposition. I confirmed it three days ago through a test—gave her fabricated information that appeared in opposition materials exactly as I'd invented it."
"Why?" Tommy's question was barely audible.
"Ideology. She believes Winters is better for Birmingham than Webb. She opposes Shelby involvement in government on principle." Jimmy met Tommy's eyes directly. "She's not being paid. She's not being blackmailed. She's acting from genuine conviction that what we're doing is wrong."
Arthur exploded. "She's betrayed the family. There's only one response to betrayal—"
"Wait." Tommy raised a hand, silencing his brother. "What else?"
"The operation is more sophisticated than I initially assessed. Pattern suggests Section D involvement—professional intelligence handlers using Ada without her knowledge. She thinks she's helping a reform candidate. They're using her to gather intelligence about our operations."
Polly finally spoke. "You're certain about Section D?"
"Not certain. But the sophistication, the coordination, the strategic use of intelligence—it has government fingerprints." Jimmy pulled out additional notes. "If Section D is involved, they're using Ada as unwitting asset. She believes she's resisting us independently. They're actually directing her resistance to serve their intelligence gathering."
Tommy processed this information with visible effort. "So we have three problems. Webb threatening withdrawal. Ada actively betraying us. Section D exploiting her betrayal for intelligence operations."
"Yes."
"And you want two days to fix all of this?" Arthur's tone was incredulous. "Webb's already discovered everything. Ada's already committed treason. Section D's already documented our operations. What can you possibly do in two days?"
"I don't know," Jimmy admitted. The honesty felt like defeat. "I need time to think. To find solutions that don't require destroying people or operations we've built."
"Some things should be destroyed." Arthur turned to Tommy. "Ada betrayed us. She needs to face consequences. Exile at minimum. Possibly worse."
"She's family," John said quietly. "That has to count for something."
"Family loyalty works both ways," Arthur shot back. "She broke loyalty first. We respond accordingly."
Tommy stubbed out his cigarette, expression unreadable. "Jimmy. You're my strategist. You've solved impossible problems before. Can you solve this one?"
The question hung in the air like smoke. Jimmy wanted to say yes—wanted to maintain his reputation for finding elegant solutions, for achieving goals through intelligence rather than violence.
But he had no solution. Only three catastrophes happening simultaneously, each requiring attention he couldn't properly divide.
"I need a week," Jimmy said. "Fix Webb situation first—show him Birmingham's reality, convert him from hostile to willing ally. Then manage Ada's betrayal in ways that protect her and Tommy's interests. Then address Section D exploitation through counter-intelligence."
"You don't have a week," Tommy said flatly. "You have seventy-two hours. Three days to solve Webb, Ada, and Section D. If you can't..." He paused. "Then I handle all three my way."
The threat was explicit. Tommy's way meant violence for Webb's associates. Exile or worse for Ada. Possible exposure and retaliation that would destroy family cohesion permanently.
"Three days," Jimmy agreed, because he had no choice.
"And Jimmy?" Tommy's voice carried warning. "Don't protect Ada at the expense of family interests. I know you're close to her. But she's committed treason. That can't be forgiven just because she acted from principle."
Jimmy left the meeting with seventy-two hours to achieve the impossible. The walk to Mrs. Price's boarding house felt like moving through thick smoke, each step requiring conscious effort.
Everything was collapsing simultaneously. Webb threatening withdrawal. Ada's betrayal exposed. Section D using both situations for intelligence gathering. Tommy's ultimatum allowing no failure.
And Jimmy had no clear path forward. No elegant solution that satisfied everyone. No third option that made this manageable.
For the first time since joining the Shelbys, his intelligence felt inadequate for the problems facing him.
---
Mrs. Price was in her kitchen when Jimmy arrived, preparing dinner with the practiced efficiency of woman who'd fed boarding house residents for decades. She took one look at his expression and poured tea without being asked.
"Sit down, cariad. You look terrible."
Jimmy sat at her small table, accepting the tea gratefully. The kitchen was warm and comfortable, smelling of bread and stew and normalcy that felt impossibly distant from his current disasters.
"Bad day?" Mrs. Price asked, settling across from him with her own cup.
"Multiple catastrophes converging at once." Jimmy tried to organize his thoughts into coherent explanation. "The candidate I've been managing discovered Shelby connections and wants to withdraw. The family member I've been friends with is actually a traitor providing intelligence to opposition. And I have three days to fix everything before Tommy handles it through violence."
Mrs. Price was quiet for a moment, processing this information. "And you're overwhelmed."
"I'm drowning." The admission felt like weakness. "I've built my reputation on solving impossible problems through strategy and intelligence. But this isn't a problem intelligence can solve. It's multiple moral dilemmas happening simultaneously, each requiring me to betray someone or something important."
"Tell me," Mrs. Price said gently.
So Jimmy did. He explained Webb's discovery and threatened withdrawal. Ada's betrayal and Tommy's demand for consequences. Section D's manipulation of both situations. The impossible deadline and threatened violence.
Mrs. Price listened without interrupting, letting him empty everything that had been accumulating for weeks.
"You've been solving problems by treating people like chess pieces," she said when he finished. "Now you're discovering that chess pieces have feelings, principles, agency. They make choices you can't predict or control."
"I can control them if I'm strategic enough."
"Can you?" Mrs. Price's tone was gentle but firm. "You've controlled situations brilliantly. But you've never controlled people—just influenced them while letting them believe they're acting freely. That's manipulation, not control. And manipulation breaks down when people discover they're being manipulated."
"So what's the alternative? Give up? Let everything collapse because some problems don't have clean solutions?"
"The alternative is accepting that you can't save everyone. That sometimes you choose which principle matters most and live with losing the others."
Mrs. Price refilled his tea. "You want to protect Webb and Ada and Tommy's interests and your own position—all simultaneously. But those goals conflict fundamentally. You'll have to sacrifice one to save the others."
"I don't accept that."
"I know. That's your tragedy, cariad." Mrs. Price smiled sadly. "You're brilliant enough to see all the angles, strategic enough to manipulate most situations, but not wise enough to recognize when manipulation becomes cruelty."
"I'm trying to help people."
"You're trying to control them. There's a difference." She stood, returning to her cooking. "You asked what you should do. I'll tell you—choose which person you can live with betraying. Webb, who trusted you to be honest about his campaign. Ada, who trusted you as a friend. Tommy, who trusted you to be loyal.
Or yourself, by becoming the kind of person who manipulates everyone while calling it protection."
"That's not a choice. That's just different kinds of failure."
"Sometimes there is no good answer, James. Sometimes you choose which principle matters most and accept the cost."
Mrs. Price stirred her stew with steady movements. "I can't tell you what to choose. But I can tell you that whatever you decide, make sure you can live with the person that choice requires you to become. Because you'll be living with that person for the rest of your life."
She left him alone in the kitchen with tea and impossible choices. Jimmy sat there until the tea went cold, thinking about chess pieces and moral dilemmas and the cost of being clever enough to manipulate everyone while being foolish enough to think that made him better than Tommy's violence.
The blood was always seeping somewhere. Morrison's butcher shop or moral compromises or the space between intelligence and cruelty.
Mrs. Price was right. He had to choose. The question was which betrayal he could survive.
---
Jimmy returned to his office above Morrison's near midnight, the building silent except for occasional settling sounds. The blood had stopped seeping hours ago, leaving only stale smell and memory.
He sat at his desk surrounded by files documenting his various failures. Webb's campaign materials. Ada's investigation records. Tommy's ultimatum scrawled in his own handwriting.
Three days to solve everything or watch it all burn.
The traditional solutions were clear:
Webb: Tell Tommy to threaten his family, his students, his reputation. Force compliance through fear. Guaranteed to work. Guaranteed to destroy Webb's idealism and turn him into exactly the corrupt politician he'd feared becoming.
Ada: Report her betrayal fully to Tommy, accept her exile or worse. Protect family interests at the cost of friendship. Guaranteed to satisfy Tommy. Guaranteed to destroy Ada and any remaining humanity Jimmy possessed.
Section D: Do nothing. Let them continue gathering intelligence while trying to minimize damage. Or expose their operation publicly, creating scandal but making enemies of government services.
Every solution required destroying someone or something important. Every choice meant betraying principles while achieving practical outcomes.
And then Jimmy saw it. Not a solution that satisfied everyone, but a manipulation so complete that nobody would realize they were being controlled.
What if he gave Webb exactly what he wanted—the appearance of independence—while actually maintaining strategic control? Show him Birmingham's reality, convert his opposition into complicated cooperation, create ally instead of puppet.
What if he protected Ada by making her "betrayal" serve Shelby interests? Let her continue helping Winters, but in controlled ways. She gets to act on principle. Winters gets genuine help. Shelbys maintain influence through managing both campaigns.
What if he used Section D's manipulation against them? Feed them intelligence through Ada that appears valuable but actually serves Shelby goals? Make them think they're succeeding while actually advancing the interests they're trying to undermine.
It was possible. Barely. Requiring manipulation of multiple people simultaneously, maintaining different versions of reality for different players, ensuring nobody discovered they were being controlled.
It was also monstrous. Treating everyone—Webb, Ada, even Tommy—like variables to be managed rather than people with agency. Protecting them by deceiving them. Achieving perfect outcomes through perfect manipulation.
Intelligence without empathy. Cruelty disguised as protection. Becoming exactly what Ada had accused him of being.
But it would work.
Jimmy pulled out fresh paper and began planning the most complex operation of his career. Every detail documented. Every variable anticipated. Every person managed through strategic deception.
Webb would think he maintained independence while Jimmy guided his choices. Ada would think she acted on principle while Jimmy controlled her "resistance." Tommy would think he achieved victory while accepting less than complete control.
Section D would think they gathered intelligence while actually receiving managed information.
Everyone would believe their own version of reality. Nobody would realize they were being played.
It was brilliant. It was necessary. It was absolutely wrong.
Jimmy wrote until dawn, filling pages with strategy that felt less like protection and more like violation. But he'd made his choice.
Mrs. Price had asked which person he could live with betraying.
The answer was himself. He'd betray his own remaining principles, his own belief that intelligence should serve rather than exploit, his own sense that people deserved truth even when truth was uncomfortable.
He'd save everyone by becoming the monster he'd always feared becoming.
The sun rose over Birmingham's smoke as Jimmy finished his plans. Seventy-two hours to execute the most elaborate con of his career. Three days to manipulate everyone he cared about while telling himself it was protection.
Intelligence without empathy. Strategy without conscience. Victory without honor.
This was what winning looked like when you thought three moves ahead and realized every move required sacrificing pieces of your humanity.
Jimmy gathered his notes, preparing to begin the operation. Mrs. Price's words echoed in his mind: Make sure you can live with the person that choice requires you to become.
He'd find out soon enough.
The blood kept seeping, whether from butcher shops or moral compromises. The important thing was maintaining the illusion that surfaces were clean.
That was Jimmy's specialty, after all.
Making everything look perfect while corruption festered underneath.