An hour later, in a damp, dimly lit cellar beneath a nondescript warehouse in the lower district, Lord Basil was not having a good morning. He was tied to a chair. His fine clothes were stained with sweat and dirt. His face was bruised. He looked terrified. The door to the cellar opened. Derek walked in. He looked furious. He had removed his coat and riding gloves. His sleeves were rolled up. He held a sharp dagger in his hand. Lord Basil's eyes went wide.
"Your Grace!" Basil cried out. "Please! I don't know anything! I was drunk!"
Derek walked slowly toward him. He dragged a wooden stool over and sat down directly in front of the bound man.
"Lord Basil," Derek said calmly. "You are going to tell me exactly what happened in that room. You are going to tell me who opened the door. You are going to tell me who locked you in."
"It was the Duchess!" Basil wailed. "She dragged the girl in!"
Derek sighed. He looked disappointed.
"Wrong answer," Derek said.
