Eleanor Davies arrived at Jimmy's office unannounced on a Wednesday afternoon two weeks after the IRA negotiation. She carried a thicker folder this time, her expression mixing determination with something that might have been apology.
"Mr. Cartwright," she said, closing the door behind her. "I need to be honest about something I've discovered."
Jimmy gestured to the chair, already knowing this would be complicated. "Go on."
Eleanor spread documents across his desk—not just the materials about Ada from their first meeting, but comprehensive documentation of Shelby political operations spanning months.
Intelligence reports. Strategic assessments. Coordination notes showing systematic positioning of progressive activists to serve interests they thought they opposed.
"I didn't just find evidence about Ada," Eleanor said. "I found evidence of systematic manipulation. Multiple people in reform movements—activists, organizers, journalists—all unknowingly positioned to advance Shelby political interests while believing they were resisting criminal influence."
She looked up, meeting Jimmy's eyes directly. "You didn't just manipulate my father and Ada three years ago. This is ongoing. Comprehensive.
Birmingham's progressive movement has been infiltrated from within, guided by someone brilliant enough to make resistance serve the purposes it opposes."
Jimmy said nothing, studying the documents. Eleanor had found more than he'd expected—not everything, but enough to expose the basic architecture of operations he'd designed.
The strategic positioning. The managed opposition. The controlled resistance that served Shelby expansion while appearing to fight it.
"I'm publishing this," Eleanor continued, voice firm despite visible nervousness. "People need to know. Activists need to understand that some of their work has been compromised.
The public needs to see how sophisticated criminal political operations have become."
Jimmy could stop her. Multiple options presented immediately:
Option 1: Blackmail. Eleanor's father had accepted money from Shelbys years ago—documentation existed, could destroy Inspector Davies' career and Eleanor's reputation.
Option 2: Manipulation. Convince her the evidence was incomplete, flawed, that publishing would hurt the very activists she claimed to protect.
Option 3: Strategic countermoves. Discredit her before publication, plant competing narratives, ensure her exposé was dismissed as conspiracy theory.
Any of these would work. Jimmy had the skill, resources, and ruthlessness to prevent publication completely.
But should he?
The question emerged from somewhere deeper than strategic calculation. Not "can I stop this?" but "should I stop this?"
Eleanor was right. People deserved to know. Activists deserved to understand that some of their work had been compromised. The public deserved to see how criminal organizations corrupted legitimate politics.
Truth that people deserved to know, even though revealing it would damage everything Jimmy had built.
"You're right," Jimmy said quietly.
Eleanor blinked, clearly expecting resistance. "I'm... what?"
"You're right. What I did—what the Shelbys did through me—was systematic manipulation of people who never consented to being used. Ada, Foster, others whose names you probably don't know.
Progressive activists positioned to serve criminal interests while believing they fought against them."
Jimmy pulled out his own files, adding to Eleanor's documentation. Strategic assessments. Coordination notes. Evidence that confirmed and expanded what she'd already found.
"If you're publishing this, publish it accurately. Complete picture rather than partial evidence that might miss context."
"This sounds like manipulation," Eleanor said suspiciously. "You're being too cooperative. What's the angle?"
"Maybe there isn't one. Maybe I'm just tired of lying." Jimmy met her eyes honestly. "Or maybe I've finally learned that some truths can't be suppressed forever, and attempting to suppress them just makes the eventual revelation worse."
"But publishing this will hurt specific people. Ada. Others who were manipulated." Eleanor hesitated. "I don't want to victimize them twice by exposing what was done to them."
"Then don't." Jimmy suggested what he would have rejected weeks ago. "Partial disclosure. Acknowledge Shelby political operations existed. Describe manipulation methods generally.
Protect specific individuals by redacting names. Focus on systemic issues rather than personal stories."
"That's still manipulation—controlling the narrative."
"Or it's trying to be honest while minimizing harm to people who were already violated." Jimmy paused. "I genuinely can't tell anymore whether I'm manipulating you or trying to do right thing.
You decide. You're the journalist. You make the call about what serves public interest versus what gratifies curiosity."
Eleanor studied his face, looking for deception. Finding only exhaustion, uncertainty, and what might have been genuine moral confusion.
"I'll write it honestly," she said finally. "Protect individuals but expose systems. Describe what was done without naming victims. That's ethical journalism, not manipulation."
---
Telling Tommy was harder than the negotiation with Eleanor.
Jimmy found him at the betting shop that evening, reviewing legitimate business accounts. Tommy's office—smoke-filled, papers everywhere, controlled chaos of expanding empire—felt simultaneously familiar and foreign.
How many strategic victories had Jimmy planned here? How many manipulations had been approved in this space?
"Need to discuss something," Jimmy said, closing the door.
Tommy looked up, reading Jimmy's expression. "Bad news."
"Eleanor Davies investigated our political operations. Found evidence of systematic manipulation—not just Ada, but comprehensive positioning of progressive activists. She's publishing an exposé."
"Stop her." Tommy's response was immediate. "Use whatever methods necessary."
"I could. But I'm not going to."
Silence. Tommy set down his pen, studying Jimmy with that particular intensity that preceded either violence or unexpected understanding.
"Explain."
"She's right to publish. People deserve to know how we corrupted legitimate political movements. Activists deserve to understand their work was compromised.
Suppressing truth just delays inevitable discovery and makes us look worse when it eventually comes out."
"You're choosing honesty over family interests?" Tommy's voice was dangerously quiet.
"I'm choosing long-term family interests over short-term damage control." Jimmy pulled out Eleanor's draft article. "She's protecting specific individuals—names redacted, Ada's story anonymized.
Focuses on systemic manipulation rather than sensationalizing victims. It's fair journalism, not hit piece."
"Fair journalism still damages us."
"Short term, yes. Creates political complications, damages current operations, forces us to rebuild some relationships."
Jimmy met Tommy's gaze directly. "Long term, acknowledging issues and making changes builds more legitimate reputation than suppressing truth until someone exposes it anyway."
Tommy was silent for long moment, cigarette smoke curling between them. Finally: "You've changed. Six months ago, you'd have designed perfect plan to destroy Eleanor's credibility, suppress publication, ensure the story never saw light."
"Six months ago, I was brilliant manipulator who violated everyone while calling it protection." Jimmy's voice was steady. "I'm trying to be something different now.
Someone who recognizes some truths shouldn't be suppressed just because they're inconvenient."
"I'm not sure if I'm proud or worried."
"Maybe both." Jimmy stood to leave. "Article publishes tomorrow morning. Birmingham Gazette. Thought you should know before it hits."
---
The headline appeared Thursday morning: "SYSTEMATIC POLITICAL MANIPULATION: How Criminal Organizations Infiltrate Legitimate Government"
The article was exactly what Eleanor had promised—fair but damaging. It described Shelby political operations without sensationalizing. Acknowledged manipulation methods without naming specific victims.
Focused on systemic issues rather than individual stories.
It was good journalism. Honest journalism. The kind that served public interest even though it hurt people involved.
Jimmy read it at dawn in his office, coffee growing cold beside him. Eleanor had kept her word—protected Ada and other individuals while exposing systems.
Described what Jimmy had done without making it gratuitous or exploitative.
He felt strange mixture of emotions: relief that truth was finally told, guilt about damage it would cause, satisfaction that Eleanor had handled it ethically, fear about consequences.
The Gazette sold out by noon. Every pub in Birmingham had someone reading it aloud. Reform Club activists held emergency meeting. Council members distanced themselves from Shelby connections.
Webb called to say his office was fielding questions about how independent he actually was.
Damage. Real, significant, unavoidable damage.
But honest damage. Truth that people deserved to know, however uncomfortable.
---
The emergency family meeting that evening was tense. Tommy, Polly, Arthur, John, and Jimmy gathered in the back room, everyone having read the article or heard about it from multiple sources.
Arthur was furious. "This is why we should've stopped her. Now everyone knows our methods, our operations, everything we worked for."
"Now everyone knows we're more sophisticated than they thought," Tommy corrected. "The article makes us look dangerous, not weak."
"But political operations are complicated now," John said. "Some allies distancing themselves, reform groups won't trust us, Webb's position is awkward."
"Short term complications for long term repositioning," Tommy said. He turned to Jimmy. "You chose to let this publish. Defend that choice."
Jimmy stood, aware that Tommy was testing whether he could articulate strategic value of honesty or whether this was just naive moralism.
"Article does three things," Jimmy began. "First, it acknowledges what we did rather than denying it. That honesty is unusual for criminal organizations—most would suppress, deflect, or attack the messenger.
We let truth be told. That's different approach.
"Second, it protects specific individuals. Eleanor could have named Ada, Foster, others. She didn't. That shows we can be honest about systems while respecting human dignity. Makes us look less monstrous than we could have looked.
"Third, it forces us to operate differently going forward. Can't use same manipulation methods now that they've been exposed. Have to build genuine relationships, create actual value, earn cooperation rather than engineer it.
That's harder but more sustainable."
"So you're saying losing our strategic advantage is actually strategic advantage?" Arthur's skepticism was visible.
"I'm saying sometimes the best lie is truth that people interpret favorably," Tommy said slowly, understanding emerging. "We look sophisticated rather than crude. Honest rather than deceptive.
Willing to change rather than doubling down. That's better reputation than any amount of suppression could have achieved."
"It's not a lie," Jimmy said quietly. "It's just... truth. Uncomfortable truth that damages us in short term but positions us better in long term."
Tommy studied Jimmy for a long moment, then nodded. "You've changed. Made choice I wouldn't have made six months ago. But I think you made right choice."
Polly spoke from her corner. "The article also does something else. It tells Birmingham that Shelbys are evolving. Criminal organization that acknowledges mistakes and adapts rather than one that denies everything despite evidence.
That's valuable in ways we won't see for months."
The meeting continued another hour, assessing specific damage and planning responses. But the tone had shifted—not crisis management, but strategic repositioning.
Using honesty as weapon rather than suppressing truth through manipulation.
---
Walking home that evening, Jimmy bought a copy of the Gazette from a newsboy. Read Eleanor's article again, this time without anxiety about what it revealed.
She'd done good work. Fair work. Exposed what needed exposing while protecting people who'd been hurt. Served public interest without being sensationalist.
And Jimmy had let it happen. Chosen truth over strategic suppression. Accepted damage as price of honesty.
The article would complicate everything. Political operations would require rebuilding. Some relationships would never recover. Webb's independence would be questioned despite being genuine.
Ada's story was anonymized but still present for anyone who looked closely.
Damage. Real damage. Unavoidable damage.
But honest damage. Truth told rather than suppressed. Accountability instead of denial.
Progress. Uncomfortable progress. But progress nonetheless.
Jimmy reached his office as dusk settled over Birmingham. The article was published. The damage was done. The truth was told.
And for the first time in eighteen months, James Cartwright had chosen honesty over strategic advantage.
Not because honesty guaranteed better outcomes.
But because some truths deserved to be told regardless of consequences.
That was growth. Imperfect growth. But genuine.
The blood would keep seeping through his ceiling. Morrison's work continuing, violence always present.
But Jimmy had learned that suppressing truth was its own form of violence. And that choosing to let truth be told, even when it hurt him, was stronger than manipulating reality to protect comfortable lies.
Article published. Damage done. Truth told.
That was enough.
That had to be enough.
Because honesty—however costly—was better than continued manipulation disguised as protection.
The lesson was learned. The choice was made. The consequences were accepted.
And Jimmy Cartwright, brilliant manipulator learning to value truth over cleverness, sat in his office and acknowledged:
Sometimes the most strategic choice was being honest.
Even when honesty damaged everything you'd built.
Even when truth cost more than lies.
Even when being decent was harder than being clever.
That was what actually mattered.
That was what made the difference.
That was who he was choosing to become.