Part 11
Eliza's head was throbbing as she came to. The floor that she was laying on was cold and hard with loose stands of hay all around. It took her a moment to be able to move and even sit up. She clutched her forehead taking slow deep breaths.
Blinking she realized her wrists were tied up with a long rope. Her eyes followed along the rope and she saw that the other end was attached to a metal loop in the wall near the floor. If she could stand, she wouldn't be able to get far.
She touched her hands to the temple on right side of her head. She could feel a cut and some wet blood, where she must have somehow hit her head. Perhaps when she tried to fight off whoever took her, or when she was passed out in the carriage.
She pressed the sleeve of her jacket to her head to try and stop the bleeding. Pulling it away, she checked her sleeve, there was a fair bit of blood on it, and she knew Ivy was not going to be impressed with getting it out of her jacket. She pressed it against her head again, and then slowly she looked around to properly take in where she was.
The only light in the room was coming from the full moon that was beaming through a grate at the top of the wall to her right. From the height of the grate, she assessed she must have been below ground somehow. It was a large cold, grey stone room, with only a wooden double door on the left, and lots of straw scattered on the ground around her.
The only sounds she could hear from outside were the occasional owls hoot or horses whinny. The grate was so high she couldn't see anything out of it but the moon and the night sky. She tried pulling at the ropes on her wrists, but it was no good. They were so tight that tugging at them was only starting to leave burn marks on her skin.
"Damn it," she whispered to herself. It was so cold that she could see the puff of white steam from her breath in the moonlight. How was she getting herself out of this?
She cursed herself for not being more careful with the carriage they had chosen. Why hadn't she thought more, instead of just blindly getting in the one that was waiting outside? She realised this was clearly part of the drivers plan. How he knew when to start the three-day countdown. He was the one who brought the parents to the police station to report their child missing. He had to know when it happened.
She felt for the chain of the gold necklace that William had given her a few days earlier, and un-tucked it from her shirt. She hadn't taken it off since her birthday. She held it tight rubbing the E pendant with her fingers, saying a silent prayer that somehow he might find her.
Based on where the carriage was heading she'd given PC Honeychurch her best guess, and she could only hope was that her guess was right. She also had to hope that Honeychurch could get her message to William. The last thing she remembered was seeing something hit him and him falling to the ground.
There was no guarantee that William would get her message, or that she was right. So, she couldn't just sit there and wait for him. She would have to try and do something to get herself out of here. She took a deep breath and tucked the necklace back into its hiding place under her shirt.
She pulled herself to stand up and moved over to the metal loop on the wall. She crouched down and examined the rope to see if she could untie herself from there. She fiddled with the rope as best she could with her hands tied together for a few minutes, before she heard the sound of footsteps from outside the room, and stood up, turning to look at the double door.
It was a dark doorway, and it creaked as one door opened, and someone stepped into the shadows. She couldn't make out who they were, just an outline of the cloak and top hat they were wearing.
"I see you're awake Miss Scarlet," the man's voice said coolly.
"How do you know my name?" Eliza asked, making her voice sound as strong as she could. She stood tall, and pushed her shoulders back defiantly. She didn't know what she was up against, but she didn't want him to think her weak.
"That's the joy of what I do, you know. I see people everyday, and yet they never remember me." There was a happy, cold, menacing tone to the deep voice as he spoke in a confident posh London accent.
"When would I ever have met you?"
"We've met a few times actually." Eliza felt a shiver down her spine.
"I have driven you to your office, to your home, to Scotland Yard. To that Police Detective you seem to like spending time with." He knew far too much about her as far as she was concerned. How had she never noticed him before?
"Well since you know so much about me, how about you tell me who you are?" She tried to quell her fear, remain calm, and sound as fierce as possible.
"All in good time Miss, all in good time." He slowly started moving towards her, moving inch-by-inch he crept, one step at a time, but he kept to the shadows of the room so she couldn't make him out in detail.
"What do you want?" Eliza queried.
"What does anyone want? Recognition. Do you know how long I've been able to do what I do? How long I've waited for someone to sit up and take notice of me."
"Well you have our attention now."
"Ah, but do I. Do you know what I'm capable of?" he queried with a tinge of intrigue.
"You won't hurt me," Eliza told him, sounding far braver then she felt. "You do and all of Scotland Yard will be hunting you down."
If something happened to her, she knew William would stop at nothing, and possibly kill this man with his own bear hands, regardless of the consequences.
"Perhaps." Whoever he was, he was giving nothing away with his words.
"Is your name really Barnaby?" Eliza asked, but the man just chuckled, an unnerving sound to say the least.
"Oh dear old Barnaby, it sounds so posh doesn't it. It's funny how a posh name and smart suit can turn a person's eye. Make smart people trusting. Believe whatever you tell them."
He kept moving closer, and Eliza could make out the smart shoes, black suit, cloak, and top hat, clearly he was dressed as a carriage driver, so either he was one, or he just dressed like one to fool people.
"Yet they still turn your down? Is that why you kill them, because they aren't interested in you?"
She was pushing his patience, though with her hands tied, she was really in no position to defend herself if she pushed him too far.
"Those women, running around London like they own the place. Going here and there, by themselves. Meeting whomever, doing whatever. Those women needed to be taught some proper lessons. They needed to learn their place!"
He was suddenly firmer with her. Eliza could tell she'd hit a nerve. He was starting to get angry, and lose the eerie calm patience he'd had when he walked in the room. She could hear the distain in his voice as he spoke.
"A woman's place is at home?" Eliza said disapprovingly.
"A woman should respect a man!" he shouted angrily. Eliza jumped back slightly.
She was making him mad, and as he got closer to her, Eliza wasn't sure that was her best course of action. So she decided to change her tact.
"Tell me about Clara Wilson."
At the sound of that name he seemed to stop and think momentarily. Curious as to what this lady might know, and why she would bring that name up.
"Clara Wilson?" he questioned. "Why the interest in her?"
"She was different to the others. Why?"
"I can't say I know what you mean by the others, but…" he said, careful not to say too much. "I knew Clara, so kind and sweet. So rather plain, yet somehow able to run around with such a rich, well to do man."
Eliza knew instantly that he was talking about Mr Colin Trewsbury, so clearly he'd seen Clara with him. Perhaps he'd dropped her off for her afternoon stroll in St James Park, and seen the two of them together. Eliza listened as the man continued his speech.
"Behavior so unbecoming of a young lady. She tried to win my affection to save her life, and you know I actually believed her. I kept her around for a while, only she was just biding her time, she tried to run, and well…" he finished. He sounded almost disappointed he had to kill her.
"So you take your carriage out, meet women, get to know them, take them places, then kill them when you decide you don't like how the live?"
"It's amazing how people trust the person driving them around. Some talk to you, agree to meet you at certain times and places, others barely notice you, or that you've driven them a number of times. Like you, a lady detective no less, and yet I don't believe you've ever taken a moments notice of me."
Well, Eliza thought, she'd be paying more attention to who was driving her going forward. Perhaps she'd even consider walking more instead of taking a carriage.
"You're no better then any of those women. Running around London with police officers, playing detective with them." He was getting so close to her she could smell his cheap cologne, and make out an outline of his features.
"Who are you to tell me or any other woman how she should live?"
"Men are in charge in this world, and you'd do well to remember that!" He shouted loudly and angrily.
Eliza was used to William and his temper, but she knew no matter how hard she pushed him he'd never actually hurt her. This man was not like William, she couldn't be sure what he would do next.
"I'd get used to being in here, you'll be here for a few days." He told her coldly returning to his eerie calm again.
"William and his men will find me," she warned, sounding as confident as she could.
The man finally stepped fully into the moonlight that was pouring in through the grate in the wall. He stood toe to toe with her, so close he could feel his breath against her face. She could finally take in his features. Mrs Wilson was correct in her assessment that there was nothing remarkable about him, Eliza thought, as she looked him up and down.
She matched him in height. He had pale skin with a few lines giving away an idea that he was maybe older then the age he portrayed. His eyes bore into hers as he stared at her hard with cold deep dark hazel brown eyes, and a scowl on his lips.
Eliza kept as still and calm as she could, despite being completely unsure of what he was going to do.
"I wouldn't bet on that,' he responded slowly and calmly.
He gave her a hard shove, pushing her backwards making her stumble into the wall behind and making her hit the back of her head, before turning, on his heel and walking out of the room.
Eliza stayed still trying to regain some composure and finally let out a long shaky breath while she rubbed the back of her head. At least her tied up hair had softened the bang on the back of her head when she'd hit the wall.
She was starting to shiver. She needed to find a way to keep warm. Could this be why the last two murders were different? Perhaps he'd not drugged them, perhaps they were frozen half to death before he killed them so they couldn't fight back.
She pulled herself back together, and returned her attention back to the metal loop on the wall near the floor. She started trying desperately to untie the rope that held her. To the wall on her right, she noticed there was a small gap in the cement between one of the grey bricks. Closing an eye she peered through, and saw it went into the next room.
On the other side she could just make out another woman, sitting huddled in the far corner. She wore a long grey skirt and white shirt with what looked like lace on it, with a light coloured woolen shawl wrapped around her. She too looked like she was tied up.
"Hello," Eliza called through the gap. "Can you hear me?"
It was a whisper, since she didn't want to alert who ever their captor was. She peered through the gap, hoping that whoever they were could hear her. She saw them move fractionally, which gave Eliza some hope that they were at least alive.
"Are you Natalie?" Eliza asked through the small gap, remembering the name of the girl who'd been reported missing at Scotland Yard just before she'd left.
The girl looked pale and cold, and her eyes withdrawn from crying, her head was rested against the wall. She only nodded a yes, too exhausted and cold to move further.
"My name is Eliza, I work with the police at Scotland Yard. I'm certain help will be here soon."
Natalie once again nodded and closed her eyes. Eliza turned her attention back to the metal loop. Her fingers were freezing, and she was properly starting to shiver but she had to get the knot untied. She blew her breath over her fingers and tried again with the rope and the metal loop on the wall.
"Come on," she whispered, willing the rope to move, pleading with it. Then suddenly it moved just a faction. It was loosening slowly, one tiny movement at a time, and then finally the first knot unthreaded. Motivated Eliza pushed on to loosen it more and undo the second knotted loop.
She could have been trying for seconds, minutes, or even hours, Eliza wasn't sure. It felt like a lifetime, but gradually she managed to untie the rope from around the metal loop. Her hands were still tied together, but at least she could move from the corner she'd been tied to.
She tried to pull at the rope round her wrists with her teeth, but it was too tight, and just cut the rope into her wrists even more. She quickly moved round the dark room to see if there was anything she could use to help maybe cut the rope, a jagged piece of metal somewhere, but there was nothing. She moved over to the door and placed her ear on it, wondering if she could hear anything.
She wasn't sure if it was safe for her to leave the room. With her hands tied and nothing around she could potentially use as a weapon, she was in no position to try and take on this killer if he caught her having escaped her room. On the other hand, did she really want to wait here freezing?
Just as she was trying to work out her best next course of action the sound of crunching gravel from outside came through the grate, and a shadow crossed the room. Someone was outside…
To be continued….
A/N: Thank you again for all your lovely reviews! So what do you think of our creepy carriage driver? When I first started writing this story, Mr Colin Trewsbury was my planned killer, he was meant to be Eliza's stalker rather then Clara's secret lover, but this story seemed to take on a life of it's own and led me where it wanted to go.