It had taken Damien two days to gather any useful information about her whereabouts. The previous evening, he had been to Ellington's club and had begun to question some of the girls about her. Whenever he described the woman in the miniature, they instantly became cagey and avoided answering any of his evasive questions. It was like she had never existed. It was not until he engaged a drunken man, one of Ellington's clientele, in conversation, that he began to slowly discover the truth.
'You must mean La Rosa d'Oro,' the man had said, with a slur, as he looked at the miniature Damien was showing him. 'Delightful creature,' he said, with a grin, 'and she's game for anything.'
Damien, trying to keep the anger, that was now bubbling under the surface, in check, said, 'when did you last see her?'
'That would have been three nights ago, or was it four,' he slurred, 'I really can't remember. I do know it was the night when that fool Richardson came in with his underlings, brandishing muskets. I never saw the like. When a gentleman can't have a bit of fun, without some fool from the military appearing and ruining it, the world's gone mad.' He sighed and took another drink. 'They came and took some young buck away,' he said as he looked longingly at his empty glass. 'Not good at all, you know, not good. A man shouldn't interfere with a gentleman's...'
'What about the girl?' Damien interrupted, trying not to sound too impatient with him.
'Her?' he said, with a hiccup, 'she was...' He stopped and looked at the ceiling, 'I remember,' he said triumphantly, looking at Damien, 'she was the young buck's sister or something like that. The young scallywag used her as a wager in a card game.'
'He used her as a wager?' Damien repeated in disbelief.
'She didn't seem to mind,' the drunk man said defensively, 'she looked like she was enjoying herself.'
'What happened to her?' Damien said, after a long silence, in which the man drained another glass of brandy.
'Richardson asked if she wanted to come with him as well,' he said, looking around for another bottle, 'and she refused. Haven't seen her since. Maybe Susie will know?' He then looked around, smiled and motioned for a young girl, who Damien guessed to be no older than fourteen, to come over to them. 'Now my little Susie,' he said, putting his arm around her waist, 'this gentleman wants to know what happened to Rosa.'
As soon as her name was mentioned, the girl's cheeks flushed, and her body stiffened. 'I don't know anything,' she said fretfully, eyeing the two gentlemen with suspicion.
Damien, sensing that she knew more than she was letting on, dug into his pocket and pulled out a gold coin. 'Go and get yourself another drink,' he said, thrusting the coin into the gentleman's hands.
The man grinned and said, 'very generous of you. Thank you, old chap.'
When he was alone with Susie, Damien led her to a deserted corner of the room, and said quietly, 'I need to find out what has happened to Rosa.'
The girl looked at him and swallowed hard. 'If I tell you,' she said, in a fearful whisper, 'he'll do the same to me as he did to her.'
'Do you mean Ellington?' he asked. She looked up at him and nodded. He could not mistake the glassy sheen in her eyes, and he knew she was close to tears. 'What did he do to her?' Damien said, still using a gentle voice, 'if I am to help you, you must tell me.'
The girl, sensing her chance to escape, said with a pleading look in her eyes, 'if I tell you, you will have to help me?'
Damien said earnestly, 'I will do everything in my power to help you. Just tell me where she is.'
She looked nervously over her shoulder, to see if there was anyone close enough to overhear their conversation. Once she was satisfied that no one could hear them, she said, in barely a whisper, 'if you help me escape from this terrible place, I will tell you everything.'
Damien nodded. 'I promise you, I will do everything in my power to help you.'
The girl looked up at him, with a trusting look in her eyes, and then proceeded to tell him everything she knew about what had happened to Miss Stanford. When she had finished, Damien looked at her in disbelief. 'He has her locked up in a room in the cellar,' he said, looking at her in shock.
The girl nodded slowly. 'Yes,' she said deliberately, 'no one has seen her for days. I do not even know if she is still alive.'
'What about the keys?' he said to her, 'do you know where they are kept?' He knew that in order to help Miss Stanford, he would need someone, who knew the place and its workings, to assist him. He did not like having to put the young girl's life at risk. His instinct was to take her away from there immediately, but he knew that she might be his only hope for later gaining entry to the club and then locating Miss Stanford. It still felt wrong to use her, but what other choice did he have?
'I think that there is only one set,' she said cautiously, 'and they are kept locked up in Mr Reynolds' office.'
'Is there any way you could get me those keys? he asked firmly.
The girl looked at him in horror, and then answered, 'me, no, I couldn't.'
'Look, Susie,' he said as he took her hands in his, 'I cannot help you unless you help me. If you want to escape this place, you will have to get them for me.'
Susie looked up at him a little unsure of herself. 'I will get them,' she said, at last, trying to sound confident. 'I will creep into his office and take them from his desk.'
'Good girl,' he said, patting her arm, 'I will come back again, at the same time, tomorrow night.'
'You will take me away from here if I get you the keys,' she said, as she put her hand on his arm, 'please, promise me.'
Damien nodded. 'I give you my word.'
✽✽✽
The next evening, Damien went again to Ellington's club to meet Susie. 'The keys,' she said pointing at one of the large windows, 'are behind that curtain, hidden under a cushion.'
'Thank you,' he said, smiling at her. 'Did you find out where Rosa is located?' he then asked.
Susie nodded. 'Yes,' she said, in a barely audible whisper, 'she is definitely in the cellar.'
It was two o'clock the morning after he had met Susie for the second time when Damien and Marlow arrived at the back entrance of Ellington's club. They had moved silently, and with stealth, through the almost deserted streets of Brussels. Their long dark coats that they had tightly wrapped around themselves helped them blend seamlessly into the long dark shadows, cast by the buildings lining either side of the streets.
Once they had arrived at the door, Marlow looked cautiously around to make sure that they had not been followed. When he was satisfied no one was watching them, he put his hand into the deep pocket of his coat and pulled out the large bunch of keys that Susie had hidden under the cushion earlier that evening.
Marlow examined the large bunch of keys until he had selected a key, that he thought would fit the large iron lock. He put the key into the lock and turned it slowly until the internal mechanism of the lock clinked softly. Once the door had been unlocked, both men stood still, listening to see if the noise had alerted anyone inside to their presence. When Marlow was satisfied that no one had heard them, he opened the door gingerly. The hinges of the door softly creaked as it opened.
Susie, who had been hiding in the shadows waiting for them, came over. 'Quick,' she said, with urgency, 'we don't have much time. You will need this,' she said, as she handed them a storm lantern that had all its shutters firmly closed, so it gave out no light, except for a few thin shafts that escaped through the cracks. 'Now, follow me,' she said in a loud whisper, motioning for them to follow.
She led them down a dark corridor to a large oak door. 'This is the entrance to the cellar,' she said in a loud whisper. 'When you get to the bottom of the stairs, it's the third door on the left.'
Marlow then lifted the latch and attempted to open the door. 'It's locked,' he whispered to Damien, as he reached into his pocket for the set of keys. He looked at the keys and then selected one that he thought would fit the lock. The first couple of keys he tried fitted the lock perfectly, but they were unable to turn the mechanism. However, much to their relief, on the third attempt the lock clunked loudly as the key turned.
'Wait for us by the back entrance,' Damien said to Susie, once Marlow had opened the cellar door. 'If we are caught,' he said to her, 'go and find Colonel Mitford and tell him everything. You can trust him. He will make sure you are safe.'
They left Susie and began to walk cautiously down the stone steps into the cold, dank cellar. It was dark, and they soon found it difficult to see the steps in front of them, so Damien decided to open one of the shutters of the storm lantern. This gave them enough light to make their way down the damp slippery steps. Once they had arrived at the bottom, they both could hear the scuttle of tiny paws running across the flagstones.
'I hate rats,' Marlow said to Damien, in a fierce whisper, 'dirty little bastards. If it's one thing I can't abide, it's rats.'
'I thought the one thing you couldn't abide were the Frogs,' Damien replied mischievously.
'Cheeky bastard,' Marlow said irreverently, 'anyway, that's a given. No one likes the Frogs, not even their own mothers.'
Once they had reached the bottom of the stairs, they both examined their surroundings. There was a wide corridor full of wooden crates and large barrels stacked up against the walls. Damien lifted the lantern a little higher and saw that along the left wall, there were several doors. 'She must be in there,' Damien said, as he lifted the lantern and pointed to the third door on the left. Marlow walked warily over to it and tried to open the large iron latch. 'It's locked,' Damien said to Marlow, in a loud whisper, 'one of those keys must be able to open that damn door.'
He took the keys from Marlow and tried the ones that looked the right size, but not one of them opened the lock. 'Sir, let me try,' Marlow said, with a grin, taking the keys from Damien, 'I've got a knack for getting into places I shouldn't be in.'
Marlow then used the three keys that Damien had just tried but to no avail. The door remained firmly shut. When he was about to give up, he spotted a fourth key, that was a little smaller than the others. 'It doesn't look like it'll fit, but it's worth a go,' he said to Damien.
When Marlow turned the key, the lock sprung open. 'There you go, sir. Thought it might work.' Marlow then slowly turned the handle and cautiously opened the door. They were both struck by a strong pungent smell. 'It stinks in here,' Marlow said, screwing his nose up in disgust.
It was very dark, and as soon as they had entered the chamber, they heard a few rats, who had been frightened by the light from the lantern, scuttle away. Damien lifted the lantern so that he could see into the dark corners of the room. 'All I can see are barrels,' Marlow said, holding the lapel of his coat over his nose to shield him from the smell. 'Susie must have got the wrong room. Let's go and try another. It stinks to high heaven in here.'
'Wait,' Damien said, resting his hand on Marlow's arm and lifting the lantern a little higher, 'give me the lamp, I think there is someone behind that barrel.'
Damien cautiously walked over to the barrel. As he got closer, the foul odour intensified and became almost unbearable. Damien reached for his handkerchief to cover his nose and tried unsuccessfully to mask the unpleasant smell.
'Good grief,' he said, as he reached the barrel, and at last, saw what was hiding behind it.
A face of a woman, blinking in the bright light of the lamp, looked at him. 'No, please,' she said weakly, 'I'll do as you say.'
She slowly lifted up her hands, that were chained to the wall, with heavy iron manacles and said, 'please, let me go. I promise...'
She was crouched on the cold flagstones of the cellar floor, shivering with the cold and leaning against the cold, damp walls. They had left her with nothing, not even a blanket to put around her shoulders. The manacles that bound her wrists together were on a short chain and were attached to the wall by a large iron ring. They were so tight that it would have been impossible for her to move her hands no more than a few inches. She was so weak; her voice was barely a whisper.
Damien took off his coat and wrapped it around her shoulders. 'Miss Stanford, I've come to take you away from here,' he said gently, as he squatted down next to her. She just looked at him with those large blue eyes he recognised from the miniature.
'Give me those damn keys,' Damien then said to Marlow, 'one of them must open these beastly looking manacles.'
Marlow gave him the keys, and then he started to impatiently go through them one by one. 'One of these damn keys must fit,' he said to Marlow fretfully. Eventually, when he was about to give up hope of ever finding the key, the lock clicked, and the manacles sprung open. Her wrists, now free from their bonds, fell limply by her side.
'Can you stand?' he asked her quietly, wrapping his coat a little tighter around her shoulders.
She shook her head and said weakly, 'no, I don't think I can.'
Damien bent down and lifted her up gently in his arms. He tried to be as gentle as possible, but he still saw her grimace with pain.
'He's a right bastard that Ellington,' Marlow said, in a whisper, 'how could anyone do anything like this?'
'Let's get out of here,' Damien said, 'and quickly.'
They left the room and relocked the door, so it looked like no one had been there. 'Marlow, you had better go in front,' Damien commanded, 'and let's get out of here quickly.'
Damien followed Marlow cautiously up the stairs. He could see that her head lolled to one side, and he thought that it was probably best, due to the extent of her injuries, that she had lost consciousness. Once they had reached the top of the stairs, Marlow put up his hand to warn Damien to stop. He then looked each way down the corridor and quickly retreated into the shadows as two men walked past the cellar door. They waited, for what felt like an eternity, until the corridor was once more deserted. Once the heavy footsteps had receded, Marlow cautiously opened the door of the cellar and motioned for Damien to follow him. They moved noiselessly down the corridor until they had reached the back entrance.
As soon as they had reached the door, Susie came out from her dark hiding place and looked at them. 'Let's get out of here,' Damien said, in a whisper as Marlow opened the back door.