14 June 1919

Morning

The small window through which the grey, morning glow filtered was the only source of light in her otherwise dark cell. As the square of grey grew brighter, it marked the rise of the sun, and the end of Elizabeth's second night in prison.

She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes and pushing her hair out of her face. Her body and her stomach groaned in protest to this movement, but after much effort, she managed to get herself up. She paced around the small room a few times, easing the tension from her legs. It was a stark contrast to yesterday, where all she had done was drift between sleep and numb consciousness. Today, though, she felt more determined to be strong. She refused to let them get to her. They could continue denying her food and they could keep her locked in here, cold and alone, but still she would not relent. Elizabeth was innocent, and she was certain that was all that mattered.

The click of the lock made her jump, disturbing her thoughts. She whipped her head around to watch the door open, walking backwards until her legs hit the bed, trying to put as much distance between her and whoever was about to enter. The door creaked open, and in walked Inspector Campbell.

"Mr Murray!" Elizabeth gasped in shock, rushing over and taking his hand, "oh thank God! Someone who-"

The door shut suddenly behind him, locking them in the room. The Inspector yanked his hand from her grip and gave Elizabeth a cold look.

"You will address me as Inspector Campbell, Miss Scott," he said, voice filled with ice, "now, sit."

She stared at him, confused, but the dark room meant that the Inspector's face was cast in shadow, so all she could see were his black eyes, glinting out at her in the dark like a hungry wolf. Eliza knew she was the prey.

"But you told me your name w-"

"I am well aware of what I told you, Miss Scott." He sighed impatiently, "now let us begin."

"You're the Irish copper, aren't you," she realised, feeling like a fool, "you're the one that beat Arthur, the one looking for the guns. Why did you lie to me?" She scoffed, finding the answer herself, "you really expected to get information out of me?"

"Enough!" He spat, stepping out the shadows, so that the light from the window illuminated his face "Be quiet. I am the one conducting the questioning here, not you."

There was something in Campbell's voice- a venom- that told Eliza she should be afraid of him; but she wasn't. He was just a man. And a fool as well, if he thought a different name and a sweeter smile would get her to rat on her family. She had faced men, and learnt that they were not to be feared, and he was certainly going to be no different.

"I had hoped that perhaps you would be more… willing to talk, but our meeting showed me that was not the case, so this is the alternative." The Inspector had been holding a file since he walked in, which he now tossed at her. "Inside this file is the case I will put towards the judge for your trial. I have witness statements that put you at the scene, character statements that paint a colourful picture of your tendency to violence and, most importantly, evidence of your guilt, through possession of the weapon used to kill Mr Byrne. You will undoubtedly be hanged, Miss Scott."

"These are lies, Inspector," she said, leafing through the file, "Not a word in here is true. These people don't even know me."

"It is rather impressive, is it not? How persuasive I can be."

Elizabeth looked up at the Inspector to find him smiling. A smile filled with malicious joy.

"You know I didn't do this." She stated simply.

"Of course, Miss Scott. In fact, I know who actually killed Mr Byrne. But what I need you to know is that if you don't agree to my conditions, I will not hesitate to let you take the fall for this crime. And mark my words, Miss Scott- that if I wish it so- you will fall."

He stepped closer to her, his hands clasped in front of him. She could almost laugh at how confident he was in himself.

"When you are released from here, you will return to Watery Lane. You will continue life as normal, working at the Garrison, whoring for the Shelby's- whatever it is you do, you will keep doing. And, at a time and place of my choosing, we will meet and you will tell me everything you have learnt, and most importantly, where the guns are hidden. Your trial will begin in a month, you have until then to comply."

And then it all made complete, and utter sense. Of course he knew she was innocent, of course it wasn't a mistake she was here. And of course it was because of Tommy. Time and time again it seemed as if all he could do was sacrifice those around him to his ambition. He had insulted her to her face when she didn't tell him about Freddie, he'd handed her over to Kimber like a whore to seal an agreement, and now, she had been thrown in prison and accused of murder, all because of Thomas-fucking-Shelby.

Elizabeth was so angry for a minute that she almost agreed. But then she remembered his face, before the doors of the truck had been slammed shut, and how sad he had looked- how grief-stricken. So instead, she stood up and threw the file at the Inspector's feet, scoffing.

"I will never betray my family, Inspector. Over my dead body will you get a fucking word out of me." She looked him up and down, wearing her own malicious smile. "And if you think you can scare me, you've picked the wrong, fucking person."

Damn love, and what it could make you do.

"Like I said, Miss Scott, you have a month to comply."

Inspector Campbell walked back to the door, rapping his knuckles on the wood to open it. His face remained calm and amused, seemingly unfazed by her outburst, but she could tell her was annoyed. He turned back to face her when the door opened, leaving her with some chilling words.

"I will confess to you, Elizabeth, it would be deeply disappointing to have to do this over your dead body. But if that is what must happen in order for me to get my guns back, I will not hesitate. You will be lying cold in the earth by summer."

Afternoon

Harry Fenton clicked the locks shut on his case, heaving it from the bed and making his way quickly down stairs. He froze when he reached the bottom and opened the door. His wife was stood in the kitchen, her gaze moving slowly between him and the case in his grasp. She had come home early.

"Harry?" She questioned, moving over to him.

"I have to go Maggie."

"Go where? I didn't know you were going on a trip."

"It's not a trip, Maggie- I'm leaving, for good."

"You don't know what you're saying," she muttered determinedly, taking a hold of his elbow and trying to guide him to the table. "Sit down and think things through. You've not been yourself lately- you're not thinking right."

He let her lead him to the table, where he collapsed into a chair, running a hand over his face and dropping his case to the floor.

"I've failed you, Maggie," he whispered int0 his hand, tears prickling his eyes, "I've failed you all, and now I don't know what to do."

"What are you talking about, Harry? What could you have possibly done that's this bad?" She questioned, sitting opposite him and taking his hand gently.

"I should never have done it, I don't know what I was thinking- why I thought it might end differently to this-" he broke off, taking a shaky breath, "he was going to kill me. I was only doing what I had been told to do- I was finding information, following leads- he was going to kill me so I had to shoot him!"

"What?" Maggie's face dropped in confusion. "Now you really aren't thinking right. What do you mean, Harry?"

Fenton looked at her desperately, gripping her hand with both of his.

"They are going to kill me. They dragged her away in front of every single, bloody Shelby, and once they find out it was because of me- they will kill me."

"I don't understand," she murmured unwillingly, afraid to know the truth.

"The man they say she killed- she didn't." He shook his head and began to cry, "It was me, I killed him. I've been spying on the Shelby's for the Irish copper, and I was only doing as he'd asked- following a lead, getting information. But it went wrong, and I had to kill him before he killed me. And I didn't know what to do, I knew the inspector wouldn't help me, so I swapped her gun with mine and I told the copper so he'd think I'd helped him and now- oh god, Maggie, I'm a murderer and a spy, and they'll kill me!"

Maggie was only silent, withdrawing her hand slowly, the look in her eye turning to disgust. There was a thick tension in the room, outranked only by fear.

"How could you?" She said, voice heavy with emotion, "Thomas will kill you Harry. They'd gut you just for spying, but for this! For framing Eliza for murder- I may have wanted her for one of our boys, but even a fool can see he's sweet on her- more than sweet. He will kill you, Harry, and then me, and then our boys. Did you think even stop to think about your sons?"

Her voice cracked, but she did not cry. She rose instead and turned away from him, gripping the sink to keep herself standing.

"It was her or me. I had no other choice."

"You did have a choice, Harry!" She exclaimed, voice rising, "You should have made it when you first started spying, you should never have gone against them in the first place. You should have thought of our sons- of me! Twenty years, Harry, and I have given you only love and loyalty, and this is how you repay me?"

"I'm sorry," he whispered shamefully. "All I can say is I'm truly sorry, my dear."

She turned around, glaring at him, a thunderous look on her face.

"And what use is an apology?" She hissed. "Will that save our boy's lives? Tony was beaten half to death by Arthur not even six months ago. They will have no mercy for us, Harry, and that is your fault. I need you to go."

"Maggie?" Fenton questioned, shocked.

"Go, now. Get out of my house."

"Maggie… before I leave," he began cautiously, "I just- I need to know you won't say anything. I need to know I can trust you."

"Trust me?" Her mouth turned up in disgust. "How dare you talk to me about trust."

Harry nodded shamefully, knowing there was nothing more he could do to change anything. He rose slowly, picking up his case and walking across the kitchen. He paused at her side, reaching out to hold her shoulder.

"I love you, Maggie, and I am sorry- really sorry. I never meant to let you down like this."

She swallowed painfully, glancing at him and touching his hand where it rested.

"I love you too, Harry." She nodded once, and then turned away again.

How could it have come to this? He thought bitterly, as he let her go and left the house. How could it have all gone so, awfully wrong?

Enjoy! It's quite a short chapter but writing has been difficult with online school :(

e x

(20/01/2021)