The plaque on the wall says:
Tie up the canine criminal, detective,
though he must be furry and ineffective.
We'll not force a confession in this chamber aside,
Not from the lucky daughter of Dickens' bride,
But Miss Good, remember your old ties,
Mind your manners and tell no lies,
Or there will be an unfortunate consequence
In the form of small, hungry little eyes.
This room resembles a medieval subterranean dungeon. Chains hang from the ceiling. There is rotting straw strewn on the roughly-hewn cobblestones, and what little light filters through the bars at the very top of the room, some fifty feet above, does little to alleviate the gloom. On the walls various tools of medieval restraint and torture hang: ropes, whips, thumb screws, etc. Many are stained with old blood and rusting with exposure. There is an iron maiden watching from one corner, a rack
in the British style along one wall. Whoever designed the room was not historically accurate: there are devices notable for their use in earlier or later periods, and they're mixed together at random. The designer knew enough not to include modern handcuffs or zip ties, however, and the occupants of the room while find little to recognize from the last two centuries.
There are rats, and yes, they're hungry. ( Directions. )