To Deceive A Duke

Chapter 49

There is a click of a pistol as they step over the threshold and it draws them to a stop. From out of the shadows, Lestrade steps into view, a sly grin on his face and his weapon pointing directly at Clarissa's head. Her hand tightens around her knife but the lighting is dim, and he is too far away for her to get an accurate throw. If she threw and missed directly hitting his heart then it is more than likely he would shoot, and potentially injure or kill her or George. 

"Pistol," Lestrade orders, looking at George. When George doesn't immediately comply, Lestrade's finger edges closer to the trigger in warning, "Now," 

George scowls, casting a look towards Clarissa before handing his pistol over. He slaps the barrel into the other man's hand and steps back, folding his arms.

"Good," Lestrade grins, tucking it into his pocket. Then, he stalks forward and rests his pistol in between Clarissa's eyes, his gaze on the knife between them. She winces as his breath washes over her, the smell of stale liquor and cigars making her stomach crawl. 

"Now your knives, my darling," He leers. 

She notices his adam's apple bob up and down, all it would take is a single slash and he would cease to exist. Instead, she schools her expression into an impassive stare and flips her knife around, presenting him with the handle. He takes it, inspecting the blade with a curious look. 

"Pretty," He tosses it across the empty room, "And the others," 

She curls her lip. She can feel George's agitation thrumming around him and it is doing nothing to calm her racing heart. She starts to reach for the knife at her thigh but the pistol presses firmly into her head and she freezes. 

Lestrade shakes his head, a smirk playing on his lips, "The brother will get them," 

She grits her teeth and turns to George, trying to silently communicate her reassurance, but his eyes are wide and he looks slightly ill at the prospect. 

"On my left thigh," She murmers gently, raising her skirts a few inches. His mouth moves soundlessly, visibly distressed, but one look from their captor makes him drop to his knees and undo the halter on her leg. He stands back up and hands it over. 

"And...." She swallows, looking up at the ceiling, "There is one down my corset," 

If it's possible he grows paler, subdued anger flashing across his face. 

Lestrade flicks the barrel towards him, "Get it," 

George glares at him but he does as he is told. His eyes plead for forgiveness as he slips his hand down her bodice and removes a slim knife. He passes it to Lestrade who deposits it with the others. 

"Perfect," He says, leaning around them to slide the door shut, plunging them into semi-darkness. Clarissa blinks as her eyes adjust. With the pistol no longer aimed at her head, she now looks around. The ground floor of the warehouse has been completely cleared out with scraps of cardboard and paper on the floor and broken machinery stashed in the corner. All the windows have been boarded up, and the wood is beginning to rot in places. A scuffling sound comes from upstairs and everyone's eyes jump upwards. 

"Where's..." 

Her words are cut shorts as Lestrade brings the butt of his pistol down on her face. She lets out a muffled cry as sharp pain bursts through her lip and jaw. George growls and moves towards Lestrade, but one click of the pistol has him pausing. Clarissa spits blood out of her mouth and it splatters onto the ground. Lestrade looks at the scarlet drops with amusement.

"Shall we go upstairs?" He says, "Baines wants to see you," 

He doesn't wait for her to reply, he grabs her arm and forces her to walk forward towards the rickety staircase. George follows, with Lestrade bringing up the rear, his aim never wavering. She climbs the steps to the first floor, taking care to avoid the damp patches as goes. The first thing she sees when she reaches the top is Daniel tied to one of the sporting beams, his eyes shut and his head lolling to the side. Peter is also tied to a beam on the left, with an unknown man standing over his unconscious figure.