It had been a week since Lewis and Garrett succeeded in finding Beatrice's whereabouts.
Beatrice was safely delivered to Emily's home, as per Lewis's suggestion. He believed she would not be safe if she returned to her apartment. Emily agreed to it and was willing to take care of her in the meantime.
The men reported everything to Madam Eleanor who was already worried about her top dancer. The information given to the madam was not to be disclosed even to her dancers.
As promised, they were given two hundred pounds. They spent the reward on food and ale most of the week.
Speaking of spending, they spent the whole week returning to their normal activities. Garrett returned to helping Samuel with gunsmithing while Lewis visited the garage to assist the workers in his father's place due to other matters. They would still meet each other at certain places in London leisurely walking and conversing, as usual.
What of Garrett's reputation in the ballet company then? Well he had not met with the dancers yet so his reputation remained as was.
The rescue experience gave Lewis the idea for his new adventure story, which was why today he sat on his desk at home and had the typewriter set up.
He was about to type the first letter when he heard the doorbell. A visitor came by, he thought.
He got up from his seat and went downstairs to open the door.
He opened the door and saw Beatrice right in front of him. This time, she had her hair fixed and wore a proper outfit. She was also carrying a purse with her.
Lewis did not expect her visit at all. "Ms. Thomas..."
He did want to keep Beatrice outside any longer so he immediately welcomed her into the living room and served her tea.
"Here's your tea."
Beatrice received the cup of tea and took the first sip.
"Thank you. Oh yes, I asked Emily about your address, in case you are wondering."
"I see. So that's how you found it." While sitting down, Lewis told Beatrice ,"I see you are well, Ms. Thomas. But aren't you supposed to remain at Emily's? You might get caught."
"I am careful with that. Oh, I prefer you to call me Beatrice."
"Alright... Beatrice. Then you can call me Lewis."
"I was about to call you that anyway. We are of the same age after all."
"How do you know about my age?"
"Emily told me about you, silly."
Beatrice chuckled and Lewis sighed in embarrassment. "Of course she would. Tell me, what else did she tell you about me?"
Lewis was also surprised she called him by his first name. He knew she could be a casual person.
"Well... she told me you write novels and short stories. When she told me you were L.M. Johnson, it took my breath away."
"You must have read my works then."
"I have. I wasn't captivated by adventure stories until I read your books. Although..."
Lewis felt the uneasiness on Beatrice's pause. "She never told me what you look like. I kept nagging her about that."
Beatrice mesmerizingly stared at Lewis, just like how she did in the wagon. "I've never seen such a man here in London," she said.
"You are more surprised by my appearance rather than my friendship with Emily... or my status as a writer. I mean, a man with medium skin and a round nose is not that common here."
Beatrice shaked her one palm towards Lewis and said, "It's not like I dislike you or anything."
She put her hand down and asked, "Are you an immigrant by any chance?"
Lewis was dazed but was able to get his senses back and answered the question, "Well, you can say that is the case."
The only people who knew Lewis's descent outside his family are Garrett, Samuel and Emily. And apparently Emily chose not to tell Beatrice about it.
"Where are you from then?"
"Where I am from..." Lewis mumbled, hesitating to answer the question since he would rarely share his descent with anyone.
"You don't have to answer. That was shameless of me." Beatrice looked down to her cup of tea she kept on holding.
Lewis looked at and told her , "You should drink some more tea. It will make you feel better."
Beatrice sipped her cup as she was told. "I think I'm feeling better now."
"I shall tell you where I'm from. Don't be ashamed." Lewis decided to answer the question as he stood up and looked outside the window while putting his hands on his trouser pockets.
"I came from a very far place, so far that you have to sail months by ship to get there. It's somewhere in the Orient, farther than India. And the weather is without snow, only the sun and rainfall."
"Sun and rainfall..." Beatrice spoke words softly.
"It's called the Philippines."
Beatrice had heard the answer she asked for.
Upon sharing his origins, Lewis realized he had not asked Beatrice the reason for her visit so he faced away from the window.
"I almost forgot. What brings you here, Beatrice?"
Beatrice immediately put the cup down on the table and replied, "I have a request, Lewis."
Lewis sat down with her again, leaned forward and collapsed his hands while his arms were sitting atop his thighs. It looked to be serious for him.
"I'm all ears."
Beatrice began to state your request, "I want you to uncover Alfred Willis's secret."
"That man... you mean the boss?"
Lewis became intrigued by the request. He knew the boss, whose real name was yet to be known until now, was hiding something.
But at the same time, he did not want to get involved with the Untamed-affiliated man again after his encounter with him. He could be targeted by the gang in the future.
The secret Beatrice wanted to disclose might be momentous, but it would be risky for him to accept the request.
Lewis wanted to hear more. "Would you mind telling me this man's secret?"
"Alfred Willis is an insane man, Lewis. You saw how he acted at the port."
"You're right. I was able to observe his behaviour, questioning him about the letters and the previous women he sent letters to. He even striked me twice with his cane as a result. He was very sensitive at that time, leading me to speculate—he is hiding something regarding the women."
"And your speculation is correct."
Lewis slightly raised his head and asked, "Have you found something that will prove my conjecture?"
Beatrice leaned forward with her right shoulder more on the front than the left one.
"I went to his house that is different from any other house in Whitechapel a couple weeks ago."
Lewis knew the exact date of Beatrice's visit to that fancy house based on the letters, which was March 15, 1867. He continued to listen.
"He and I were doing romantic things couples commonly do. Then he wanted to serve food for us, telling me to sit still on the couch in the living room. Of course, I couldn't be still so I stood up observing the furniture and painting in the room like I was at a museum. And then I came across the grandfather clock, mahogany-made."
Lewis knew about the grandfather clock during his infiltration in that house. It made him unconsciously uncomfortable just by staring at it.
He again asked Beatrice, "And what of the clock?"
"The clock was so lustrous I touched every part of it until it slightly moved towards me, like it was a door. I checked Alfred was still in his kitchen so I moved it and there is a passage that leads down to the secret I'm going to tell you."
Listening silently like thin air, Lewis was extremely eager to find out the next thing Beatrice was about to tell.
"I followed the passage down and the air was escaping out to the room as I passed by. Then I finally reached what appeared to be a dungeon. Torches were lit, I was able to see what was around. It was not a pleasant sight to see."
"What did you see?"
Beatrice relaxed her sitting position but her voice tone began to change. "Blood, chains, weapons, it was a torture chamber."
She started to hold her hands. "And then... I saw dead bodies on the corner." Lewis leaned back to straighten up after hearing that.
"I looked around the room more. And I saw heads... three heads of the victims were displayed on top of the desk. They were groomed like they weren't dead. I was so terrified that I quickly ran back up to the living room. Wh-when I finally got out of the passage, Alfred saw me in panic with his tray. I got my purse and stormed out of the house. He did not even try to stop me from leaving."
Beatrice trembled over the story he told to Lewis. The latter reached the former's hands to calm her down.
Lewis reasoned Beatrice could have met the same fate as those women murdered and beheaded by the sadistic 'Alfred Lewis'.
Still undecided to grant the request, he asked her, "Why are you telling me this, of all people?"
"You're the only one I can trust," Beatrice answered. "Had I went to the police, they would not heed to my help and call me a madwoman."
Lewis put on a serious gesture by touching his chin as he was trying to understand Beatrice's current situation.
Beatrice held her cup of tea again and took another sip of it. Then she talked to Lewis again, "As you can see, I am well. I can go back practicing with Emily and the other dancers if I want to."
She looked outside the window and continued, "But the fact I found that room still bothers me, and the past week has been very hard for me in spite of my freedom. I'm sure he's still searching for me so as to silence me. I am not safe right now."
Lewis's advice of letting her stay at Emily's house proved to be the right decision. Initially, he thought the man's sadistic nature would urge him to order his men to search for her.
He finally grasped the circumstances behind Beatrice's request as he leaned on the inside back of the chair.
From there, he made his decision.