“Jesus, Harry, what the hell is going on around here?” Barnaby growled. He eyed the large iron bolts across all of the doors, and the heavy locks that confined each person into their cell-like rooms. Some of the rooms were crammed with bunk-beds, four and six apiece, which rendered the room full to capacity; uncomfortably so, and resembled more of a prison than a refuge.
“I don’t know, but somebody needs to get their hands on that governor,” Harry growled, determined to do exactly that the first chance he got.
As soon as Tilly was safely under his protection, he was damned well going to ensure that the governor was put behind bars, along with the supposed Trustees, for neglecting their personal responsibilities.
The group spent the next several minutes going through door after door, but all of the rooms that lined the long hallways were empty.
“Where is everyone?” Harry demanded as he turned to look down the long, empty corridor behind them.
“They are all at work,” the warden replied, clearly uncomfortable.
They knew that poor houses were usually run to order, and the residents took personal responsibility for keeping their living space clean. However, for some reason, Harry doubted that the work the residents in this particular poor house were being forced to do, had any connection with everyday life.
“Take us to them,” Marcus demanded, and shoved the warden ahead of them when he made no move to comply with the order.
“Wait,” Barnaby ordered. He slowly nudged a door to the right of him open.
Inside, a small group of young teenage girls were busy scrubbing already clean walls. Their words were hushed, their movements furtive and their eyes haunted as they turned to look worriedly at the strangers.
It was a sight that would remain with Harry, Marcus, and Barnaby, for many months to come.
“We aren’t here to harm you,” Harry reassured them, and offered a smile in spite of his inner anger.
Barnaby didn’t enter the room for fear of frightening them further, but watched carefully while Able made a note of the names of all three girls.
Once that was done, Harry suggested that the girls take a break.
“A break, sir?” One girl asked rather timidly, as though she had no idea what one was.
“Yes, you don’t have to work so hard anymore. Take a break,” Harry suggested kindly before he backed away from the room.
They left the girls alone and moved on to the next room, and the next, and the next, in exactly the same way. Although the ages of the women inside each of the rooms were different, they were all engrossed in seemingly endless; and completely unnecessary tasks.
Although detailing everyone was an extremely important part of their work, it took considerably longer than Harry would have liked. However, the knowledge that any discrepancies they found would lead to the arrest of the staff who ran the place, forced him to bite back on his impatience, and ensure that a thorough job was done.
It took them nearly an hour before they were able to move to the floor below, where they employed several of the residents who could write, and set them to work making lists of the people on their floor.
“What’s wrong?” Marcus growled when the elderly women appeared somewhat reluctant to carry out their instructions.
Although they had written their own names on the parchment, he wondered if they could write at all, in spite of their claims that they could.
To his disgust, the answer he received brought about hardness in his eyes that made the women step back several paces, and look at him with considerably more wariness.
“Who is Taylor?” He demanded. “Where do I find this woman?”
One elderly woman pointed down the corridor. “She rules with an iron thumb, and isn’t one to be crossed. She will punish us if she finds us helping you do this.”
Harry frowned. “Punish you how, exactly?”
The women shifted uncomfortably and fell silent.
Thankfully, one of the women finally found the courage to answer. “We get locked in our cells, and aren’t allowed to eat. Then, when we are let out, we have to do twice as much work as everyone else.”
“Does she ever beat the residents?” Harry demanded with a frown.
The women looked at each other hesitantly. “She doesn’t hit us. Just makes us work twice as hard on things that don’t need doing, just because she can. We get locked in until the job is done and, if it isn’t done right, we are kept there until she is happy. If we miss mealtimes, then we go hungry.”
Marcus, Barnaby and Harry swore in disgust. It hadn’t been so severe while they had been in the damned army; and these were effectively everyday people, not soldiers.
“Has a new girl arrived in the last week, about so tall?” Harry gestured to his shoulders. “Brown hair, green eyes? About twenty four?”
“She arrived the other day. We told her not to keep pestering, but she keeps asking to be let out. Taylor won’t let her go. Once you get in here, they never let people out,” one woman replied solemnly, only for another to cough and shift uncomfortably.
However, whatever she was about to say was interrupted by the arrival of the female warden, who stomped through the door with a deep scowl on her face.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“What are you lot doing away from your work?” she demanded of the women residents before she turned toward Harry, Marcus and Barnaby. “Who are you? What do you think you are doing here?” Mrs Taylor boomed as she stalked toward them.
Harry opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Taylor, who seemed determined to assert her authority over all of them.
“Get back to work,” she ordered the women, only for Harry to beckon them to remain where they were.
“They are working for us now, and have their tasks allocated by us now,” Harry growled. He eyed the woman up and down dismissively. “Now, I suggest you step aside and go to the main hall to wait for the rest of the wardens to join you.”
They all watched the woman’s face turn mottled purple as her outrage grew. When she opened her mouth to speak, Harry shifted his weight and stared challengingly at her. She may feel able to bully the older and smaller people she was in charge of, but he was damned if he was going to have this particular battle-axe tell him what to do. He knew that if he wanted the women residents to make the lists he needed, then he had to gain their confidence, and respect, and make sure that all of them knew that Taylor was no longer a risk to them.
Having seen what he had witnessed in the cells so far, he had absolutely no compunction against downing the odious prison guard before him if he had to, and he called her a prison guard, not a warden, because that was exactly what she had ensured she was.
“Who are you?” Mrs Taylor persisted. “How dare you come in here and order me around? This is the woman’s quarters, and no place for men. I shall have a word with the governor about you. You see if I don’t. I am going to ensure that you are arrested for trespassing. Now get out of here.”
“Good. Please do send for the governor. I want a word with him myself. While the magistrate is here, you can explain to him why you are imprisoning people who shouldn’t be kept behind locked doors. You can also explain why you are acting as a prison guard rather than a supervisor. You can tell him why you are not treating these people with consideration and, instead, have chosen to behave like some despotic dictator with no morals, no conscience, and no authority to behave in such a way.” Harry realised he was shouting, and took a deep breath to steady himself. “Now, step aside woman, we have work to do, and you -” he poked her in the chest, “- are not going to stop us.”
When the woman didn’t move her ample girth from in front of the door, Harry roughly pushed her aside and gestured for the warden, Masterson, to unlock the door. He was about to shove the warden through it when he turned to glare down at Taylor, who sat in an undignified heap on the floor. He could hear the titters of the women around them, but paid them no attention and, instead, kept his gaze firmly locked
on the recalcitrant warden.
“You are going to come with us. I want you to explain your disgusting behaviour as we go. I want everyone here to see you, and know that you have been stripped of your duties and are no longer a threat to anyone.”
Harry watched Marcus and Barnaby use their weight to haul her ample girth off the floor. Both men were used to pushing reluctant prisoners around, and had no difficulty ensuring her resistant bulk went through the door in the direction they wanted, but they huffed and puffed doing it, and Taylor wasn’t even protesting.
To ensure that the ladies felt confident that he meant what he said, Harry looked Taylor straight in the eye as he approached her. Once they were almost nose to nose, he yanked the large hoop of keys off the chain around her waist and handed them to Marcus.
Harry turned toward the women residents. “Keep going along this floor, and make sure that you get everyone’s names on those lists. Someone go downstairs please, and make sure that the same thing is done there. I want lists of absolutely everyone in this building. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir. Leave it to us,” they chorused, clearly relieved, shocked and amazed at the latest events.
Within seconds, the hallway was empty as everyone hurried off to do carry out their allotted tasks.
Harry turned back to Taylor. “Take us to Tilly,” he ordered.
“Tilly?” Taylor repeated dully, as though she had never heard of the name before. “There is nobody here by that name.”
Marcus leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “I warn you now that we know she is here. She works for us, you see, and has gathered enough evidence by now to ensure that you are put behind bars for a very long time indeed. Now take us to her, or I will ensure that you are arrested for murder too.”
“I haven’t killed her,” Taylor protested quickly. Only then did she seem to realise that her instinctive protest proved she was a liar. She sighed and glared at him.
“Prove it. Take us to her. We have the residents making lists of everyone in this building. If I find that Tilly is on that list, and you have lied to me, I will ensure that you pay for it,” Harry warned in a voice that was nothing short of evil.
“Tilly?” A young woman beside him piped up. She took a hesitant step forward, but threw a dirty look at Taylor, who shifted her ample girth in silent warning, which the young girl bravely ignored.
“Don’t mind her. She is out of a job right now, and won’t be a threat to anyone in this building again, I can assure you,” Barnaby drawled warmly. “We are looking for Tilly.”
“They didn’t let her out this morning,” the young girl replied. “I am Margaret. Tilly is working on the ground floor, scrubbing floors.”
“Wait a minute,” Harry interrupted. “What do you mean that they didn’t let her out this morning?”
“They lock us into our rooms overnight, and let us out when it is breakfast time. This morning, they didn’t let her out. When they did, they just set her to work,” an older woman replied from the doorway behind Margaret.
“It’s what they do when you ask to be released from here,” another woman called from inside one of the side rooms.
“Released?” Marcus asked incredulously. “You are released from prison, not a poor house. You are not criminals. You are free to go whenever you want.”
“No we aren’t. When we ask to go, we are punished. Tilly asked lots of times, but Mrs Taylor refused to let her speak to the governor. She locked her in her room without food instead.”
Harry felt sick to his stomach. The thought of a beautiful young woman like Tilly being subjected to such an ordeal when all she had done was ask to be let out, really made him want to punch something.
The memory of the desolation in her eyes on that fateful day, when he had stupidly let her leave the Rectory, rose to the forefront of his mind, but he quickly blanked it out and, with renewed determination, turned to look at the others.
“Let’s go,” he growled, and none too gently shoved Taylor through the door ahead of him. The warden made a last ditch attempt to be defiant, and crossed her arms as if to emphasise that she was determined not to do anything to aid her own downfall, but was ignored by Harry, who shoved her in front of him in spite of her bulk.
“I can take you to her,” a young boy suddenly offered from the doorway beside them.
Harry turned to him and nodded his thanks.
“My name is Zack,” the young lad said, even though nobody had asked. He threw Taylor a dirty look and cheekily stuck his tongue out. “She is a harridan, that one. Everyone hates her.”
“I can see why,” Harry sighed, but didn’t bother to look at the woman again. “Take me to Tilly, if you would?”
He read the somewhat hesitant look on the young lad’s face, and a faint shiver of unease swept through him.
“What?” He knew the news about her was not good.
“They haven’t fed her, sir. She has asked to be taken to the governor again, and she didn’t like it,” he declared flatly, and threw Taylor a hateful glare.
“So that means she has to starve, does it?” Marcus growled.
“It’s not much, sir. The food around here, that is. But you need it if you are to do the work they tell you to do,” Zack replied knowledgeably, and nodded to Taylor when he said ‘they’.
Harry swore. “Harsh is it?”
“Kills some people,” Zack replied sadly. He stared off into the distance as though reliving personal experience. The look on his face warned all of the men from the Star Elite that there was more to his personal story they had yet to hear, but that would have to come later. Right now, they had work to do.
“Take me to her,” Harry urged Zack, and followed the boy through another hallway.
“She is with Suzanna. Suzanna hasn’t done anything wrong, but is on dish duty at the minute, so is in the room next to the hall.”
They walked through the corridors, and became increasingly aware of the curious gazes of several of the residents. They all stepped back as Taylor passed, as though they were afraid the former warden was going to lash out at them. However, as soon as the group had moved several feet away, conversation broke out in their wake.
To Harry, the noise of that chatter, along with the look of disgust on Taylor’s face, was incredibly satisfying.
The deeper into the building they walked, the colder the air became, until their breaths began to fog out before them, and their fingers and toes grew numb from cold.
“Please tell me that people don’t sleep down here,” Harry growled as he followed Zack down yet another endless corridor, into what felt like the bowels of Hell.
“No. The food hall is down here. It is supposed to be a community hall, but it is only ever used to eat in. Nobody socialises here, you see. If you are not at work, you eat, and then have to sit in your room until it is time to come out for breakfast.”
Harry shook his head, and wondered how anybody managed to survive a day in such circumstances, let alone a year, or a lifetime.
“Where are we?” He growled as they entered yet another corridor, which seemed to run to a dead end.
“The sink room,” Mrs Taylor spat. She was clearly most displeased at being forced to follow them around, but nobody paid her all that much attention.
Harry bit back a curse when an elderly woman scurried out into the hallway before them, saw Mrs Taylor, and froze in horror. The fear that flooded the woman’s haggard features as soon as she saw the warden made Harry wonder just what the hell was going on that they had yet to hear about. By the time he had blinked, the old woman had disappeared back into the room and closed the door so swiftly, so silently, that she could have been a ghost.
If he hadn’t seen what had just happened with his own eyes, Harry would have believed that he had just imagined it.
He shared a look with Barnaby, who shook his head in disbelief.
Suddenly, two young girls, no more than ten, almost bowed as Mrs Taylor stalked past, and looked about to burs
t into tears because they had been caught out in the corridor and not hard at work. Unable to ignore the opportunity to add to their torment, Mrs Taylor glared at them.
“What are you doing out here?” Taylor snarled. “Get back to work, the pair of you. There is nothing to see here. How dare you leave your work until you are told? No food for you tonight.”
Harry studied the horror on the young girls’ pale faces. They were already skin and bones, and didn’t look as though they could withstand another hour without food. He lifted a hand to warn Taylor to shut up when she opened her mouth to speak.
“Shut up,” Barnaby growled at her, and moved around so that he stood in between Taylor and the young girls.
Harry beckoned the girls closer. “What were you supposed to be doing?”
The girls looked at each other. “Scrubbing the floors, sir,” they chimed.
“Is it done?”
“Once sir,” they replied.
“Quiet!” he bellowed when Taylor opened her mouth again.
He turned back to the girls with a dark scowl. “What do you mean, once?”
He glanced down at the pristine floor beneath his feet. It looked perfectly fine to him; freshly scrubbed and spotless.
“We have to do it three times, sir,” one of the girls reluctantly admitted. She stared down at her feet morosely, as though she had done something wrong and knew she was going to get punished for it.
Harry’s gaze dropped to their dry, chapped hands and, for a moment, he had to close his eyes in order to keep his temper under control. When he did slowly turn around and face Taylor, his gaze was filled with ruthless menace that made even the defiant warden step back. His cold eyes met and held Taylor’s while he spoke to the girls in a voice that was almost too calm; and in stark contrast to the sinister threat in his eyes.
“You will eat your dinner tonight girls, and enjoy it. As far as I can see, the floor is fine and doesn’t need to be done again. Three times is nothing but slave labour, and completely unnecessary.”
“Ignore her,” Marcus added with a nod at Taylor. “Taylor no longer works here. She is a mite displeased about the fact that she is no longer in a position to issue anyone with orders, but cannot do you any harm now. Go and make sure your names are on one of the lists upstairs, please. Then go and have a chat with your friends.”
Shattered Dreams Page 10