HI Folks! Well I'm writing again. This time for a new obsession - Ms Scarlet and The Duke. Unfortunately, for those who know the scenario for S5, I am as disappointed as you. However, this is a reason for writing our beloved favorites into situations where we want them. This is my second fic for these two characters but this one is shaping up to be a bit more like an episode. Love to hear a review on this first chapter with four more chapters to post. I am currently working on Chapter 6. Thank you!
Funny Meeting You Here
Eliza Scarlet, late of Nash and sons, and now back on her own, bent over the murdered victim observing for any bullet holes, large gashes to the skin, or even a darkened bruise to the head giving her a clue as to how the poor man came to his fate. She stood there in the middle of the alley. This case was so strange in that Eliza fairly stumbled upon it. She was taking a short cut from the other side of town. On her journey she almost fell to the ground but when she looked down, she realized the sorrowful victim laying in a lump fairly lying over her high buttoned shoes.
She was recently joined in her observations by two police officers. One was Oliver Fitzroy, Chief Inspector Wellington's protege, and the other was a nondescript police officer. He certainly seemed less interested in the murder than your average down-at-heel Victorian Londoner.
"Detective Fitzroy, nice to see a familiar face," Eliza stated as she stood looking at the young man with neatly combed hair and good suit.
"It's good to see you, too, Miss Scarlet. Should have preferred better circumstances, though," he replied.
"I suppose so, but here we are. What do you make of this?"
Detective Fitzroy crouched over the body observing for the same telltale signs of injury as Eliza had.
"There are no marks on parts of the body. Perhaps, he just collapsed?"
"Yes, that's what I thought but I suppose we will have to wait for the coroner to give us the real findings," Detective Fitzroy stated.
"Incidentally, I looked for some type of identification but the only unusual bit I could find was a name engraved on this bracelet I found lying next to him. Looks like the clasp broke in the fall," Eliza added handing the bracelet to Oliver.
"Well, I will hold onto this and confer with the coroner when he gets me the report," Oliver responded.
Before she could even ask, Oliver smiled in his boyish way showing dimples.
"Don't worry, Eliza. I will be sure to forward you a copy of the report."
"Thank you, Detective. As you know I am still not permitted in the mortuary with Mr. Potts unless escorted and since my usual escort is still in New York…" Eliza trailed.
Suddenly a crack of thunder and the skies above burst in large pounding raindrops. Oliver, Eliza, and the disinterested cop were somewhat sheltered from the brunt of the storm as the buildings loomed overhead leaving only a small slit of sky from where the raindrops could fall onto them. Simultaneously the coroner arrived with the cart to whisk the body away from the alley and into the morgue to conclude the cause of death.
Eliza remained for a few minutes after the cart pulled the body to the morgue. She made light conversation with Detective Fitzroy avoiding the one elephant in the room.
"Ms. Scarlet, Eliza, please excuse me I do need to return to Scotland Yard. May I escort you back to your office?"
"Detective Fitzroy, I'm fine. I was on my way to a destination for another case when I stumbled upon this body. So, I had better continue. Thank you. I will be fine," Eliza assured him.
When Oliver did not immediately leave, he clutched his hat just a little tighter and said, "I should escort you, Ms. Scarlet. Scotland Yard can spare me a few minutes. Inspector Wellington would be cross if I let anything happen to you in his absence."
There. His name is out there now thought Eliza.
"Honestly, Detective Fitzroy, let me assure you. I am perfectly fine."
Then after a short pause, Eliza placed a hand over Oliver's hands as he clutched his hat.
"I miss him, too, Oliver. Believe me. Very much." She smiled and then continued in the same direction as previously to her destination.
Eliza finally arrived at her destination. She looked up and read the large marquis: Victoria's Haunt. As she entered, she though the name very apt. The entrance into the bar/restaurant was dark and smelled a tad musty as if there was damp in every corner. The decor was much like most of the other Victorian establishments she had frequented previously when taking a drink and either meeting a witness or client or just absorbing the visitors and the atmosphere.
This certainly was not like Gilbert's or Arabella's establishments which were more suited to the upper crust of society with bright lights, fancy gilt and velvet chairs. Eliza took a seat and waited for the gentlemen she was to meet. She did not have to wait long for a very thin tall man with a ruddy complexion take a seat across the table from her.
"You, the propse've singer?" the tall man asked Eliza.
"Are you Mr. Bydinway?" Eliza asked taking on a more relaxed accent disguising her more educated tone.
"Who's askin'?"
Eliza did her best not to roll her eyes at the man.
"Yes, I'm Scarlet Rose, the next rising star, and I really think your establishment is the place to do it. I've heard this place is quite a hoot when it gets going, if you know wha' I mean." Eliza said laughing loudly and chucking a bent elbow in his direction.
Mr. Bydinway, besides being a bit lanky, was partially bald and dressed in an inexpensive suit with a brown waistcoat, white shirt, and stained beige trousers. He laughed along with Eliza at her and then sat back placing his thumbs in the slit pockets of his waistcoat.
"Well, before I give ya the job, I need to hear ya. So get your bottom up there on the stage and perform!" Mr. Bydinway invited.
This was the moment Eliza was dreading. She needed to pull this off authentically no matter how frightened she was to sing and perform in front of an audience. The woman who had provided the information about Mr. Bydinway was counting on her to find where her sister, who was a singer in this lounge, may have disappeared so suddenly after last week's last performance.
"Ok, luv, you're in for a treat," Eliza said affecting that cockney accent. She shed her blue uniform jacket to reveal a plain white button-down shirt. When Eliza got to the stage, she took the chair that was sitting there serving no purpose and hooked her leg over it showing her calf, ankle, and high button shoe. For an even more risqué audition, Eliza unbutton the top two buttons of her blouse and loosened her blonde hair in front so a couple of curls fell to the sides of her face giving her a less stiff demeanor.
Here goes nothing Eliza thought to herself. Wish me luck world.
"In Bath a wanton wife did dwell,
As Chaucer he doth work
Who did in pleasure spend his days,
And many a fond delight…."
Eliza pranced around the stage, batted her eyes, and flirted with Mr. Bydinway who was enjoying her performance so much that he allowed her to sing all eight verses much to Eliza's surprise.
"Well, I gotta say, Scarlet you are very talented girl. I can pay you for three nights and one afternoon. You can start tommora night. All right lassie?"
Eliza jumped off the stage and feigned excitement and gratitude at her chance of stardom all the while feeling she needed a bath as fast as she could scurry home and heat the water.
"Thank ya, Mr. Bydinway. I'll be 'ere."
Eliza retrieved her jacket and hat and handbag. She straightened her clothing and stepped back out into the light of day. She ventured around the corner to see if there were any clues happening there.
Peering around the corner of the building she noticed a black carriage, a young man, maybe 18 years old at best, was caught struggling against an older man who looked to be the same age as Mr. Bydinway who seemed to be in his early forties.
Eliza took a step closer and heard some of the louder parts of the altercation.
"Where did you take her? She never would have left without telling us!" The young man yelled in the older man's face
"I dunno who'er yellin' about! Get off the prop'ty before I sick the dogs on ya!"
"I'll be back tommorra with my three brothas and we'll get it outta ya!" The young man decided staying alive would be easier than more threats from the older man.
Eliza stepped back and then stepped forward catching up to the older man before he escaped into the building.
"Hey, could you help me? I jus' got hired by Mr. Bydinway to sing 'ere and I fergot somethin' inside, and it seems the front door is locked until tomorra," Eliza asked in her cockney accent.
"Really? He hired you? Well, he shouldn't have. That's what all the trouble is about with the last gentl'men I was just tawking to. I'm sure you heard."
"Of course, couldn't help it. Who was that gentl'men anyway?"
"Aw, he claims his sista disappeared a few weeks ago and she was singin' here too," the man stated.
"He was probably mistaken. Wot's your name? Since I'll be workin' 'ere I should know it,"
"I'm called Sam. I do the cleanin' up and the bouncin'. Glad to know ya?"
"Scarlet Rose." Eliza held out here hand. Sam shook it and dipped his head to show his respect.
"Just a word of warnin', though, Miss. Do your job and don't ask any questions. Things can get rough around heah."
"Thank you, Sam," Eliza responded. She then turned and began the half hour walk back home.
Eliza sat in the bathtub scrubbing off the sleazy feeling of the club she now had been engaged to sing. Her incessant working of the bath brush came to a halt as she sat back in the hot steaming water and contemplated her journey back.
She had, of course, walked back the same journey she took to get there. She had stopped momentarily at the spot where she had found the dead man. The name on the bracelet which she assumed was in the man's possession was "Octavia". It just happened to be the name of the sister of her client whom she was paid to find.
Well, it's a little late to call round at Scotland Yard to tell Detective Fitzroy. However, I will go in the morning. I know I can't pump Mr. Potts for any information during his visit with Ivy, so I will sit a little bit and wait for Fitzroy's promise of a copy of the report.
At the thought of Scotland Yard, William entered her thoughts and she saw his ruggedly handsome bearded countenance behind her closed eyes. She could feel his parting kiss all too vividly. His last letter was filled with all the action he had seen and learned. He also ended the letter with "I love you" and a promise of a thought how they could be together once he returned to England.
Oh William, how I miss you! Why could I not have told you how much I love you, too. You know me better than anyone. It's been six months. Only six more for you to come back. I will disappoint you again because I have not thought about one scenario in that we could be together without me making all the sacrifices.
If I gave up my detective license and learn to be a good housekeeper and cook, would you still love me? More important: Would I still like myself?
"Lizzy!"
At the sound of Ivy's voice, Eliza's thoughts were abruptly brought out of deep contemplation.
"I'm here, Ivy!" She called back.
"You've been in there for a half hour. Mind you're going to be as wrinkly as a prune! Do you need help?"
"No, I'm fine, Ivy. You go onto bed. I can see to myself." Eliza called back.
"Ok, my sweet girl. Goodnight Lizzy!"
"Goodnight Ivy."
P.S. The lyrics to the song are from an authentic bawdy Victorian song/tale called "The Wanton Wife of Bath" and the composer/author is Anonymous British.