Chapter 18: “Goodbye, Mister”:
After several days confined to her room as punishment, news finally reached Liri outside.
“Liri! Liri!”
Summer ran up to her, clutching her coat.
“Summer! What’s all the fuss about?”
“Liri, it’s you.”
Summer was out of breath.
“You can stay here no longer. Your punishment has been lifted today. You can go out now.”
No one had expected this. Summer told Liri that, instead of her, Mr. Budino had undergone the police investigation.
Only after repeatedly testifying that he was “too old and confused” was he finally released, ultimately facing a dishonorable exit.
It was a sad ending for Mr. Budino, who had proudly watched young Lord Belmore cut steaks.
“You’re alone at the train station now. Nobody knows… actually, you know…”
Summer hesitated to tell Liri that she was being expelled.
“Which train station?”
Liri put on her coat with a determined expression.
“The outskirts of Londinium. What? Are you going now?”
“Summer, just cover for me!”
The train departed on time. She couldn’t possibly reach it on foot, so Liri anxiously stepped into the hotel elevator.
“Elizabeth, aren’t you under confinement?”
The bellboy froze in shock, having paused mid-press of the buttons to look at her.
“Peter, just this once. My punishment’s lifted. But don’t tell the manager—I’d be scolded if he found out I left immediately.”
Liri pulled a Florin gold coin from her pocket and handed it to him. After a quick glance around, he pocketed the coin.
“Just this once.”
“Thanks.”
When another guest entered the elevator, Peter closed the door.
“Where to, sir?”
“Fourth floor.”
Peter, wearing white gloves, pressed the fourth-floor button. Liri breathed a sigh of relief. As the elevator arrow pointed to the fourth floor and the doors opened, she bolted out.
“Timothy! You’re in the room?”
Timothy was startled to see Liri’s desperate face. He had given up after hearing she couldn’t meet anyone due to her punishment, and yet she stood before him like a ghost.
“What’s going on?”
“I need to go to the train station.”
Seeing her urgency, he didn’t ask questions and quickly put on his trench coat.
“If you tell the concierge, you can borrow a hotel carriage.”
Fortunately, the two reached the station before the train left.
“Go ahead first, Liri.”
Hearing this, Liri ran at full speed toward the platform. Amid the busy station, a short, stout man carrying oversized luggage with large pots stood out.
“Chef!”
She shouted at him so he couldn’t miss her. Timothy followed closely behind.
“Liri!”
The chef’s eyes widened. Liri panted.
“I was afraid you’d just leave… How could you go without saying a word?”
“Who would hold a farewell for a soldier discharged in disgrace?”
He tapped her shoulder with his rough, calloused hand. Unlike usual, his touch lacked strength.
“Lord Belmore is a bad person.”
Liri said what she had never voiced before. Mr. Budino didn’t laugh.
“Liri, don’t hate him too much. Work long at the hotel. The world isn’t easy.”
He didn’t list the kinds of hardships a naive girl with no connections might face, but Liri understood.
“How can you say that? I spent so many years working for him! How can they just let me go? If the world’s dangerous, that’s all the more reason to stay at the hotel!”
“Enough, Liri. I’m fine.”
He paused, staring into the air, then spoke as if tossing a thought.
“As you can see, I’ve lived too fast. It’s no surprise my mind’s gone a bit strange.”
“You don’t need to say that in front of me.”
Ever since the name Belmore entered Liri’s life, it had always been like this. He destroyed what she valued too easily.
“I really hate him.”
“He took responsibility for what happened at the hotel.”
“The one who should take responsibility is me.”
He awkwardly patted her head.
“Liri, Lord Belmore recognized who should bear responsibility. Promise me you’ll endure here. Do you think Congressman Gordon would be satisfied if he destroyed you? At least pretend to give up something you cherish.”
No one came to say goodbye. Everyone ignored those discarded by Belmore.
‘I hate Belmore.’
She had never hated anyone so intensely. She cursed a man whose face she had never seen.
A curse she had never spoken to anyone, Liri uttered in front of Timothy.
“I hope he loses someone he loves too.”
Timothy silently followed her.
Jeffrey Paul, editor-in-chief of the Londinium Tribune, had just returned to the office after a tea party with a member of the House of Commons.
“Hey, Rutland…”
Before entering his office, he watched Timothy Rutland intently organizing papers behind a glass partition.
“Working frantically, I see.”
He liked Timothy Rutland, who carried a burning sense of justice much like he had in his youth. He was articulate, rational, and could explain difficult things clearly.
Above all, his best quality was his goodness and sense of justice. Unfortunately, such virtues rarely had space to shine outside a small newspaper like this, which he always regretted.
Of course, he knew Timothy had chosen this small paper because bigger newspapers were often controlled by power.
Still, the company was too small for such a capable young man.
“Timothy, why don’t you take a short break?”
He took a cigarette from his case, offered it, and sat beside Timothy’s desk.
“Oh, I don’t smoke.”
“Funny, acting like a child in odd ways.”
Timothy had never smoked, knowing Liri would cough at the smoke. Instead, he took out a drop candy.
“I eat candy instead.”
The editor laughed.
“You’re on your way back from meeting Congressman Phil Gordon, I see.”
He exhaled a plume of smoke, making his cheeks hollow.
“They said Belmore is no different from the mafia.”
Timothy recalled Liri’s furious, cursing expression toward Belmore. The name was indeed ominous.
“Maybe so.”
“Two-faced, they say.”
“Everyone knows, they just don’t speak…”
Timothy calmly changed the typewriter ribbon. Jeffrey laughed heartily. Smoke drifted to Timothy’s face; he frowned and stepped back.
“Not like you to be so emotional.”
“I know several people Belmore has wronged.”
Timothy thought of Liri’s face.
“What Congressman Gordon described isn’t Christopher Archibald Belmore’s story.”
“Really?”
“It’s Belmore himself.”
Hard to grasp at first.
“I won’t go into more detail. But Gordon nearly had a nervous breakdown over this. Even if it wasn’t attempted poisoning, it was a warning or intimidation.”
So his claim of being perfectly healthy was likely a lie.
Timothy bit his lip. Liri would feel guilty if she knew.
“They said to ask a nun at St. Margareta’s. She might know something, but she died. Still, one remains. Where’s the convent now?”
“East Longfell.”
Timothy answered immediately.
“Good. Want to check it out? Try to learn about Belmore from the nun. They’re cautious, so they might not speak.”
“What if I show up penniless?”
Jeffrey ground the cigarette in the ashtray.
“Just say you’re introducing a local specialty.”
“A local specialty?”
“The name of the local specialty… probably a scoop, they say.”
Jeffrey laughed and left. Timothy looked at him, baffled, as he entered the office.
‘I hope he loses someone he loves too.’
The convent moved, the nun died… Belmore was an ominous name.
Liri entering his hands for work to survive also felt unsettling. If she had known the situation that day, she would have walked out of the hotel holding his hand, rather than pleading for a job.
Timothy poured his cold tea into a nearby plant, then tucked his reporter’s notebook into his jacket pocket and stood.
He hesitated for a moment with the Harris Tweed jacket he had casually draped on the chair.
Should he tell Liri?
She might feel upset if he told her he’d visit the nun alone while she was sulking under confinement.
He decided it was better to ask sensitive questions when she wasn’t there.
