CHAPTER TWO

As Finn stepped out of the car, the abandoned Victorian bathhouse loomed before him, a crumbling monument to a bygone era. Beside him, Amelia Winters surveyed the scene, her keen eyes taking in every detail. "I don"t like the look of this place," she murmured, her voice low and troubled. "There"s something about it that feels... wrong."

Finn nodded, feeling a chill run down his spine despite the warmth of the day. "You're frightened of buildings, now?"

"Don't start," Amelia said before affecting an American accent. "We can't all be ‘mister American tough guy, taking on the world's evils, one bad guy at a time'."

"I understand," Finn smiled. "It must be difficult for you being around such a powerfully handsome individual. But please, hands off. Not during an investigation."

Amelia shook her head, but he could see the glint of playfulness in her eyes.

They ducked under the police cordon and made their way towards the entrance, the gravel crunching beneath their feet.

Detective Inspector Grayson, a seasoned officer with a grim demeanor, greeted them with a curt nod. "Finn, Inspector Winters. Glad you could make it out so quickly."

Finn shook his hand, noting the tight lines around the inspector"s eyes. "Of course. What have we got?"

Grayson sighed, his gaze flickering towards the bathhouse. "It"s a nasty one. Victim is Emily Stanton, a young socialite and influencer. Found dead in the main bathing chamber while live streaming, posed like some sort of museum display. The whole scene has this eerie Victorian vibe. Straight out of Jack the Ripper's playbook."

Amelia frowned, her brow furrowing. "Victorian? That"s an odd choice for a murder scene."

"Odd is putting it mildly," Grayson said, shaking his head. "It"s like something out of a penny dreadful. But I"ll let you see for yourselves."

As they entered the bathhouse, Finn couldn"t suppress the shudder that ran through him. The air inside was thick and heavy, laden with the weight of history and decay. The dimly lit corridors stretched out before them, the sound of dripping water and creaking floorboards echoing in the stillness.

"It"s incredible to me that places like this still exist," Finn whispered, his voice hushed in the oppressive atmosphere. Even after all that time, the history of the UK fascinated him. Sometimes, it felt as though in every direction, you just had to walk for a few minutes to find something Victorian or older.

"It gives me the creeps," Amelia said. "I wish places like this could explain what happened within their walls."

Finn nodded. "And whatever it"s trying to tell us, I doubt it"s anything good."

When they reached the main bathing chamber, the sight that greeted them was like something out of a nightmare. Emily"s body lay in the center of the room, surrounded by flickering candles and withered rose petals. She was dressed in a Victorian-style gown, her blonde hair arranged in elaborate curls. At first glance, she could have been mistaken for a sleeping princess from a fairy tale, but the illusion was shattered by the unnatural pallor of her skin, the vicious stab wounds on her milky skin, and the dark bruises around her neck.

Amelia approached the body, her steps careful and measured. She knelt down, her gloved fingers gently brushing against Emily"s wrist. "Her smartwatch is still blinking," she said, her voice tinged with disbelief. "It"s such a jarring contrast, this modern piece of technology against all this Victorian decor."

Finn joined her, his eyes scanning the room for any clues the killer might have left behind. "It"s like two worlds colliding," he mused, his gaze lingering on the ornate tiles and the intricate metalwork. "The past and the present. We shouldn't rule out the connection as a possible motive."

"If Emily was live streaming," Amelia said, rising to her feet. "Perhaps the killer was wanting to stop silence her from revealing something?"

Finn nodded, his expression grim. "It's possible, but I've seen live streamers being murdered while recording before. It could be that the killer was watching the stream and decided to come here."

"I don't know," Amelia sighed. "The candle, the rose petals, that doesn't sound like a spontaneous act."

"He could be a killer who was waiting for an opportunity," Finn replied. "Then, he sees Emily streaming and grabs the things he had already prepared for his first kill."

As they searched the room, a glint of something caught Finn"s eye. He knelt down, his fingers brushing against a loose tile. With a gentle tug, the tile came free, revealing a small, leather-bound book nestled in the dust.

"What have you got there?" Amelia asked, joining him.

Finn held up the book, his eyes widening as he flipped through the pages. "Strange… Seems like it's someone's notebook. It"s filled with notes and sketches about the bathhouse, about its history. And look at this..." He pointed to the final entry, dated just two days prior. "It mentions a secret chamber hidden somewhere in the building. The question is, was this Emily's, the killer's, or someone else's?"

"If it's the killer's," Amelia mused out loud, "then he could have been here already and Emily was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Finn"s eyes lit up, looking at the notebook. "A secret chamber, though…"

Amelia"s eyes sparkled with excitement, despite the grim circumstances. "A hidden room? That could have been where the killer was hiding."

"Exactly," Finn said, rising to his feet. "If our killer is as obsessed with the Victorian era as they seem to be, they might have used this secret chamber for something. Maybe it"s where they planned all of this."

Amelia"s face grew serious. "Or maybe it"s where they"re keeping their next victim."

A chill ran down Finn"s spine at the thought. "Let's look for anything out of place. A hatch on a floor or a wall that seems out of place."

But before they could explore the lead further, a commotion from outside drew their attention. They emerged from the bathhouse to find a young man arguing with the officers at the cordon, his face etched with grief and desperation.

Finn approached him, his hands held up in a calming gesture. "Hey, easy there. I"m consulting detective Finn Wright, and this is my partner, Inspector Amelia Winters. We"re investigating Emily"s murder. Are you a friend of hers?"

The man"s eyes, red-rimmed and haunted, met Finn"s. "I"m Liam Holden… I'm Emily's boyfriend. Or I was, I guess." His voice broke, a sob catching in his throat. "I can"t believe she"s gone. I can"t believe someone would do this to her."

Amelia stepped forward, her voice gentle. "We"re so sorry for your loss, Liam. I know this is a difficult time, but anything you can tell us about Emily, about her life, could help us find who did this."

The boyfriend nodded, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. "She was... she was amazing. So full of life, so passionate about everything she did. She loved streaming for her fans. But lately, she"d been getting these messages. Threats. Emily thought it went with the territory as her profile became more popular, but I told her to be careful."

Finn"s brow furrowed. "Were any of these threats specific? What did they say?"

"She'd receive the usual unsolicited pictures from men every now and then," Liam explained, "and the usual troll comments. But things changed a few weeks back."

"Changed, how?" Amelia asked.

"Some of the threats were weird. Something about her being too obsessed with social media, with technology. The messages said she needed to disconnect, to break free. At first, she just laughed them off, said it was probably just some troll trying to get a rise out of her. But they kept coming, getting more and more intense."

"Did the messages say anything specific?" Amelia asked, her pen poised over her notebook. "Any clues about who might have sent them or why they were targeting Emily?"

The boyfriend shook his head. "No, nothing like that. But..." He hesitated, his eyes flickering between Finn and Amelia. "There was something else. Something Emily said a few days ago."

Finn leaned in, his heart pounding. "What was it?"

"She said she"d found something. Something about the bathhouse, about its history. She was excited about it, said it was going to be a big story. But she wouldn"t tell me what it was. Said she needed to verify some things first."

"So she chose here, tonight?" Finn asked.

Liam nodded. "But she sometimes pretended on her live streams to just happen to find a place, or that it was her first time there."

"To create a sense of adventure for those watching," Finn said, nodding.

"That's right," Liam said, wiping tears from his eyes.

Amelia exchanged a glance with Finn, a flicker of understanding passing between them. "It's possible then that Emily had been here before, to scout out the place?"

"Yes," Liam said. "But she had stopped sharing with me where she was going on live streams because she thought I was being overly protective… Now look what happened…"

Finn had heard that line before. One partner"s "over protection" could be another partner"s controlling abuse.

"Was Emily scared of you?" Finn asked.

"What!?" Liam said, loudly. "No! Of course not!"

"If she didn"t want to share things with you because you were being too controlling," Finn went on, "could she have been worried about what you might do to her, if she went against your wishes?"

Liam shook his head. "You police are all the same... No... I loved her. I was only concerned, and it had been the source of some tension. Emily decided to draw a line between her professional and personal life."

"But you didn"t like that..." Finn pressed.

"No," Liam said, now more calm. "But I respected her decision and left it alone. You can"t tell your partner what to do, you can only give them advice."

"Did Emily tell anyone else about the threats? Her friends, her family?" Amelia's pen remained poised over her notebook.

The boyfriend shook his head. "No, she... she didn"t want to worry anyone. She said she could handle it, that it wasn"t a big deal. That every creative has to put up with that these days." A tear slipped down his cheek, glistening in the sunlight. "I should have pushed harder. I should have made her go to the police. Maybe if I had..."

Finn laid a hand on the man"s shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring. "Hey, this is not your fault. The only person to blame is the one who did this to Emily. And I promise you, we"re going to find them."

"Thank you," Liam nodded.

"Liam," Amelia said pointing to Detective Grayson, who was standing nearby with two constables, going over their notes. "Could you give your statement to the detective over there?"

Finn waved at Inspector Grayson, who nodded in return and walked Liam slowly away.

Amelia"s eyes gleamed with determination as she turned to Finn, her voice low but resolute. "We need to go back inside, Finn. If there"s a secret room hidden in this bathhouse, it might be where the killer was waiting for Emily."

Finn nodded in agreement, a sense of urgency creeping into his movements as they retraced their steps back into the dimly lit interior.

The air inside the bathhouse felt heavy with history and secrets, the flickering light casting eerie shadows on the tiled walls. Finn"s footsteps echoed softly against the ancient floors as they moved cautiously through the corridors, their eyes scanning for any sign of an anomaly. The notebook clutched tightly in Finn"s hand seemed to whisper of hidden passages and clandestine meetings, adding to the suspense that hung thick in the air. As they reached the spot where Emily"s body had been found, Finn felt the coldness of the place, a silent reminder of the danger that lurked within those walls. Together, he and Amelia began to search for any subtle hint that could lead them to the elusive secret chamber mentioned in the notebook.

"Anything in there that could help?" Amelia said, pointing to the notebook in Finn"s hands.

Finn opened it up and flicked through the pages. "There"s a sketch here, looks like this hallway here , book ended by two rooms.

Finn"s keen eyes scanned the area, his gaze lingering on the unusually thick wall separating the two rooms.

"Hmm," Finn said, rubbing his cheek.

"What is it?" Amelia asked.

"Doesn"t this wall look a good bit longer than the two rooms?" Finn asked. "There"s something not right about that."

His fingers traced along the wall until they found a small latch hidden in the intricate Victorian wallpaper. With a soft click, a section of the wall swung open, revealing a narrow passage leading into darkness.

"Open sesame," Finn said in a booming voice.

Amelia followed closely behind Finn as they stepped into the hidden room. Dust swirled in the air, settling on forgotten cobwebs that adorned the corners. Finn"s disappointment was palpable as he surveyed the empty space, devoid of any clues or evidence.

"Well, this is disappointing," Finn muttered under his breath, his frustration evident in his tone. His nostrils stung slightly.

Amelia"s brow furrowed as she observed their surroundings. "I"ll get forensics to go over this place, but..." She paused, wrinkling her nose at a faint smell lingering in the air. "It stinks of bleach. It"s like someone went to great lengths to clean this room out."

Finn"s jaw clenched at the realization. "Deliberately cleaning it out suggests they were covering their tracks," he mused aloud, his mind already racing through possible scenarios. "This has got Max Vilne written all over it. Sometimes he liked to sterilize the scene to show his control over the investigating officers. If something is left behind, it"s deliberate."

"We shouldn"t jump to conclusions," Amelia reminded Finn. "If we see Vilne in all of this, we could miss the real killer."

"Come on, Winters," Finn said. "He"s already threatened us again with those mannequins tied to the tree back at the cottage. Then there was that watch, probably Victorian-era like the bath house. He"s showing us flashes of what he has in store."

Amelia didn"t say anything, but Finn could tell she didn"t quite buy it.

The dim light filtering through a cracked window cast eerie shadows across the bare walls of the secret chamber. Finn and Amelia exchanged a knowing look, both detectives recognizing that this empty room held secrets that had been meticulously erased by someone with something to hide.

"Forensics is still outside," Amelia said as they left the room. "I'll…"

Finn"s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, frowning at the unknown number on the screen. When he opened the message, his blood ran cold.

"What the hell," Finn said, trying to make sense of the message.

"What is it?"

"Amelia, look at this." He held out the phone, showing her the screen. "It asks ‘are you enjoying the bathhouse?' followed by a poem:

‘By kings and things of progress delight,

thy tide will poison thine own crimson night.'"

"What are those numbers at the end of the message?" Amelia asked.

"Looks like coordinates," Finn said.

Amelia opened her phone and punched in the coordinates to her maps app.

Amelia"s eyes widened, a flicker of recognition crossing her face. "Those coordinates... they"re for an old textile mill about a twenty minute drive from here. Let"s see if we can get a trace on the number and then head there."

Finn nodded, his jaw clenching. "If this is from the killer, it looks like he is playing games with us. Sending us on some kind of twisted scavenger hunt."

Amelia looked at Finn, worry in her eyes like wells of deep unease. "But what will be found there?"