Adjusting her auburn hair to lay on her shoulder, Eleanor walks towards the tall building, the letters painted on the sign above, 'The London Courier'.
Brushing a gloved hand over the skirt of her pale blue dress, she twists the small card between her fingers and marches up the grand stone steps.
Inside the large, gold painted doors is home to one of London's biggest newspaper companies. The walls are green and white wallpapered with dark wooden planks to accent. The beige floor is shiny with no traces of dirty shoeprints and a gold spiral staircase leads up to the second floor.
Eleanor makes her way over to the grand entrance desk, two secretaries sat behind it, filing large piles of paperwork. She clears her throat. "Good morning,"
The darker haired of the two looks up, a smile on her face. "Good morning, how can I help you?"
She flashes her the card. "I've got an appointment with Mr Milverton."
"He doesn't actually arrive at the office for another fifteen minutes," She explains. "We have a waiting area if you'd like to wait there—"
"I see," Eleanor bites her lip, looking away. "That's a shame."
The secretary raises her eyebrows. "Excuse me?"
She turns her attention back, forehead creased. "Sorry, it's nothing really. It's only that, I'm a little nervous to meet Mr Milverton, so I'd hope to— Nevermind."
"You needn't be nervous, Miss," The receptionist places a hand on top of the reception desk. "You're Miss Eleanor Williams, the actress, aren't you?"
Eleanor nods, biting her nail. "This paper published a story about my acting that I'm hoping to get cleared up so I wanted to have a few moments to myself before I met him."
"Is the waiting area sufficient?" She asks.
Eleanor purses her lips, lowering her nails from her mouth. "I-I suppose it will be..."
"Would you rather take a seat outside his office on the third floor? The corridor is very quiet, perfect for calming nerves." The receptionist sends her a sympathetic smile.
"Only if I'd be allowed to..." Eleanor chuckles. "I don't wish to cause any problems."
The receptionist hurries around the side of the desk, taking Eleanor's hand in hers to comfort her. "You're shaking, dear. Let's take you upstairs to await Mr Milverton's arrival."
"T-thank you," Eleanor breathes a hefty sigh.
An arm around Eleanor's shoulder, the receptionist guides her through the large entrance room, office doors on the furthest wall, and up the first set of golden stairs.
"I really appreciate this."
The receptionist squeezes her shoulder. "Don't worry at all. Mr Milverton is a charming man really, no matter what the rumours say about him being cold. Only to begin with at least."
This receptionist sure can run her mouth on behalf of Milverton.
"I'm sure it will be fine," Eleanor smiles as they climb the second flight of stairs, pacing down the long green carpeted floor with only one door along the full length.
"This is it," She nods to the door, the name plate reading:
'Mr Charles Augustus Milverton - President'
The receptionist releases Eleanor's shoulder, ushering her to the chair by the wall and she sits down.
"Would you like a glass of water?"
Eleanor shakes her head. "I'll be fine, but thank you again."
Sending Eleanor a smile, the receptionist walks back the way they came and down the stairs to return to the main desk. Eleanor listens carefully to the sound of her shoes on the linoleum of the ground floor.
As soon as she hears the clicking of her heels, she jumps up from the chair and twists the door handle to open the office but with no luck. Of course it wouldn't be that easy.
~
"My help?"
William stares out at the park, a heavy feeling weighing on his chest. "Eleanor, the other night when you and Albert spoke, you promised to help however you could, didn't you?"
She furrows her eyebrows, turning to face him. "Yes, that's correct. If I can be of any help then I will take my role."
"I've seen your acting skills so I'm sure this will be no hardship."
Eleanor leans against the back of the bench. "What would be no hardship?"
William turns to look at her, darkness swirling through his crimson eyes.
"Fooling the king of blackmail."
"Milverton? How so?" Eleanor blinks at him.
He looks back out ahead at the park. "He has some information that's going to be vital soon enough. This information he has will be finding out the truth about events that are to follow in the days and weeks to come. Somehow, he's going to be the cause of Adam Whiteley's downfall, I know it."
"Adam's downfall? You're sure it will be Milverton?" She asks.
"I'm sure." William nods. "The man has more power over London than any of us three brothers could ever have. But that's why you helping us out will also inevitably be Milverton's downfall as well."
Eleanor sighs. "He's a vile man, Milverton. Whatever I can do to help put a stop to his evil is what I will do."
"Your role will help greatly if we can find these documents that will prove Milverton drove Mr Whiteley towards the acts he's going to inevitably do."
"What acts are these?"
William stands up from the bench, fixing his top hat. "I fear that Adam Whiteley will be put between a rock and a hard place, in which we three brothers will need to step in and save him as well as this city."
"It's a mighty burden you're carrying," Eleanor follows his lead and stands up. "But whatever needs to happen, I'll do it."
~
Plucking two grips from her hair, Eleanor kneels down and begins working at one of the pins. Pulling it open, she crafts an L shape, ready to pick the lock. One acts as the tension wrench, the other as the pick and the two work together to click the lock open.
Straightening up, Eleanor glances over her shoulder before hastily opening and closing the door behind herself as she enters Milverton's office. She checks the pocket watch Albert gave her to see she has roughly ten minutes before Milverton arrives.
She begins her search by rushing over to the large wooden desk and pulling open drawers. Her search finds a silver key, in which she hastily grabs and twists around to the filing cabinet. Rows of drawers line the wall and her eyes scan the labels. Two in the bottom right corner have the current year written on the front and she darts down to reach them.
The first drawer doesn't open with the key.
"Damn."
In her frantic state, she spins around and grabs another key from the desk drawer to try. This time the first drawer unlocks and she slides it out.
Rows upon rows of files are stacked upright back to back and she searches through them.
"Barons, Lords, Goverment..." She mumbles. "This man has blackmail on just about everyone in London."
Her eyes meet the label of 'MP's' and she grins. Her fingers file through the paperwork and she digs around to find the notes on Adam Whiteley. With no time to be picky, Eleanor slides the hefty stack out of the drawer, placing it to the side.
Fumbling with the first key, she opens up the drawer below, now finding key dates from the last few months and detailed labels.
Her eyes meet one row and she snatches at the file. With the title 'Moriarty Connections', she slides the drawer closed and reaches down for the first stack of paperwork, resting both in her arms.
Her fingers search through the files and she's surprised to see a mention of Sherlock Holmes in this wad of paperwork linked with the Moriarty brothers. A few other names pop up: John H Watson, Mary Morston and Irene Adler.
Eyebrows furrowing in confusion, Eleanor hurries over to the window to see a carriage pull up and her eyes widen.
From her restricted view, she catches a glimpse of the curly grey hair and a lump forms in her throat.
"That wasn't ten minutes."
Rushing back over to the desk, she places the pile of paperwork down and hastily kneels on the floor by the drawers. Scrabbling with the two keys, she locks the drawers, jumps up and tosses the keys back inside the desk drawer.
Grabbing the pile of papers in her arms, Eleanor runs over the door and opens it a jar. She can hear voices downstairs, greeting Milverton as he enters the building.
A sweat forms on her forehead and she panics, sliding out the room and closing the door behind herself.
She practically jumps out of her skin as a mail boy scurries over to her.
"Miss Williams," He nods his head, opening up his satchel and holding it out.
Furrowed eyebrows, she tilts her head, eyes widening as she catches his eye. Bright blue eyes beneath long blonde eyelashes, Bond sends her a sly wink. Eleanor quickly places the paperwork inside the bag, taking a seat on the chair and wiping her brow of perspiration.
Bond walks back towards the staircase, tilting his hat. "Good morning, Sir."
With no response, Bond passes them on the stairs and hurries down to the next floor.
Stalking down the corridor, yellow eyes bright beneath his circular glasses, Milverton sends her a suspicious smile.
"Miss Williams?"
She stands up, nodding in response.
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't drop my mail."
Furrowed brows, Eleanor looks down at the floor to see two envelopes scattered on the carpet, both addressed to Milverton. She reaches down to grab them and holds them out for him to take.
"Apologies,"
He takes them from her hand, opening the door to the office and holding it open for her to follow inside. "Please, take a seat."
Following his request, Eleanor clears her throat awkwardly as he glosses over the door being already unlocked.
She takes a seat on the chair in front of his large desk, hands in her lap and sitting up straight in apprehension.
Milverton places his letters down and takes a seat with his hands firmly on the desk. "So, what is the nature of your visit, Miss Williams?"
"I wish to discuss my media representation," Eleanor begins. "One of your colleagues wrote an article about my performance a few weeks ago."
"I remember this article," Milverton leans back in his chair. "It was about your performance as Lady Macbeth. I believe it was described as—"
"—subpar," Eleanor huffs a laugh. "Yes, I remember the article too, you needn't remind me."
Milverton waves a nonchalant hand. "Well, there's nothing that can be done about the matter now. I can confidently assure you that nothing will be published of similar note, but for a small price?"
She raises a brow. "What price?"
"It would be simple really," He stands up from the desk, steadily pacing over to the windows with his hands behind his back. "I know you're in a —relationship— with Albert Moriarty. I also happen to know that this is a very informal relationship."
"Your point?" She questions through gritted teeth.
He turns around, the backlighting from the window casting an eerie shadow over his face. The yellow colour of his eyes glows more sinister than before and a smirk dances on his lips.
"Tell me about Albert Moriarty's involvement with Adam Whiteley."
Lips tightly sealed, a cold shiver runs down her spine. "I don't know what you mean."
Milverton takes a few steps closer to her. "Tell me about the envelope he handed Adam in the carriage that day at the Victoria Embankment Gardens."
"I really don't know what you're talking about—"
"—Don't play coy with me, Miss Williams, I know why you're here." Milverton huffs. "I have your number and it's slowly counting down every second that you lie to me."
She blinks at him. "I really don't know what you're talking about."
"Stop saying that," Milverton hisses. "I'm really supposed to believe that you're here about your 'media involvement' and not to do Albert Moriarty's biddings?"
"I'm here of my own accord," She raises her voice. "Albert has nothing to do with it."
Milverton huffs a laugh. "I can guarantee your career will skyrocket if my paper writes a stellar article about your acting, but I'll only make you that promise if you tell me all."
Eleanor crosses her arms, eyebrow cocking. "Blackmail? Nothing less from the King himself."
He sneers, making his way back to his desk and taking his seat again. "It's your move, Miss Williams."
If this is a game of chess, then Milverton has just taken her Queen from the board. It's not like he's put her in Check, only left her more vulnerable and open to an attack.
She narrows her eyes. "Mr Milverton, did you fabricate the letter that the supposed 'Jack the Ripper' wrote to the police?"
"I asked first—"
"—I'm not done," She raises a finger to silence him. "I'll admit that your message seemed sinister enough, but the wording seemed far too clever for your usual criminal. You fabricated the letter to strike fear into the public, didn't you?"
"So what if I did?" Milverton leans back in his chair. "That was simply to back Scotland Yard into a corner and look for the help of a certain consulting Detective."
"Sherlock Holmes?" She questions. "What's the link?"
Milverton adjusts his circular glasses. "I think you and I both know that the Lord of Crime and Holmes are linked. They are the day and night, bad and good."
"If the Lord of Crime is the bad, what does that make you?" She crosses her arms, unimpressed. "The ugly?"
"I oversee the Dawn," Milverton hisses. "Through the media, I am the eyes, ears and mouth of this city."
Curling her fingers around the arms of the chair, Eleanor stands up, taking in a deep breath. "On that note, I don't think any more will come of this meeting since you're blackmailing me with something I don't have. I'll be going now."
She turns on her heel.
"If you think I'm doing the Moriarty brother's biddings, then you're wrong." She tells him, her back turned. "I'm focused on pursuing my career and that's that."
"I know things about Albert Moriarty and his brothers that could deter you from ever feeling safe around him again."
She smiles to herself. "You can try. But either I know what you would tell me, or if it was something that outrageous, I wouldn't care."
He places his hands on the desk in a matter of fact fashion. "Between you and me, my dear, no one can come out on top. But this broken city will answer to me and only me."
Chuckling, Eleanor pivots to face him. "Much like Macbeth, as he fears his reign as King may be threatened, I'll say this: 'to be thus is nothing, but to be safely thus'. You must make your bed and lie in it if you want to come out on top."
Milverton huffs, an eyebrow raised "Is that a threat?"
Twisting the door handle, Eleanor shrugs. "With the Lord of Crime, the Moriarty brothers and Sherlock around, something is bound to come to a conclusion."
She opens the door wide, glancing at him over her shoulder.
"One of those men will kill you and there's nothing you can do."
With a wave of her hand, Eleanor walks out the room, leaving an irate and disgruntled Milverton alone with his racing thoughts.
-
-
-