Author's Note: Bridget Therris is a reoccurring character I've used in The Downy Street Case and The Fiance's Case. I wanted to do a one-shot with her and Sebastian instead of another mystery to be solved.
I stared at the house, no longer as confident as I had been when I set out an hour earlier. True, I had my gun with me, but if it came to it I doubted I'd have the nerve – or justification – to actually shoot. If he called my bluff... well, it wouldn't be a complete disaster. For one thing, this was a busy London street in full daylight. I wasn't foolish enough to actually enter the house and so any confrontation would have to take place on the front step. The worst that could happen was he slammed the door in my face.
And I'd fail my client, of course. She was a timid thing and one of my associates had sent her along to me. His case load was too heavy, he said, and he felt this needed a woman's touch.
Whatever the bloody hell that was supposed to mean.
Still, it was a measure of respect that he would pass anything along to a woman fighting her way along in a man's line of work. Most of the time the other detectives pretended I didn't exist, taking their cue from the Yard. And right now I had to confess that being a woman was certainly going to be a detriment. The man that lived in the house I currently regarded was a landlord engaging in some rather shady practices with one of his female tenants. She was young and widowed and had no one to turn to. He was demanding rent twice from her, claiming she never paid it the first time. After several months of this, she had finally gone to a detective for help in finding solid evidence of this.
While I didn't exactly have solid evidence, I had enough to determine the truth of her story. Now I was here to use that to deter him from bullying my client any further, at least until she could find a new place to live without being thrown onto the streets. I took a deep breath and tried to still my nerves. I had done more dangerous things than this. The house sat nestled elbowing the nearby buildings like any typical London street. It was prim, well-kept, and devoid of personality. The landlord was in his mid-forties and wasn't a particularly cruel man, just dishonest. And my client was an easy mark.
I was about to step into the street and cross to his front door when a pair strolling past stopped me. They walked along the street imperiously, expecting others to make room for them, as we all unconsciously did. I paused mid-step of my retreat. A boy with one eye. A tall butler with black hair and dull red eyes.
Oh. Now this was fortunate.
"Lord Phantomhive! Sebastian!" I cried, falling into step with the two, "Excellent timing. Ciel, might I borrow your butler for a few minutes?"
The boy stopped, his cane clicking against the cobblestones one last time before he turned to regard me. I gave him a charming smile and kept myself from looking at Sebastian. I didn't want to see his expression. As is, I could almost feel his cold stare on me and it sent a shiver up my spine.
God, he was terrifying. And that was just what I needed at the moment.
"Miss Therris," Ciel replied coolly, "I did not expect to see you."
"I live in London. If you spend enough time here, it was bound to happen sooner or later."
"This is rather far from your usual haunts."
"You don't even know where I usually am," I replied irritably, "Just where I live."
I saw a flicker in his one visible eye. He was ready to dismiss me and keep going.
"The store can wait," I said. I could not miss this opportunity. "It's been under renovations for two months now, it can wait another half hour before receiving you to tour it."
Ciel looked surprised. Then his face broadened into a smile and he looked down at the ring on his thumb.
"How did you know?" he asked, apparently pleased.
"The store is one of the earliest that Funtom opened, making it of special interest to the company. It is not terribly accessible by carriage and you are on foot, something that is not typical of your station. You don't have that annoyed look you get when being forced to make a social call, which makes me think this is business. And not unpleasant business either, as you look more bored than angry."
"Very good," the boy murmured, "And what do you want Sebastian for, then?"
I nodded at the house.
"Corrupt landlord," I said, "I don't have enough evidence to take to the constables and my client just wants him to leave her alone long enough for her to find a new place to live where she won't have to deal with him. I'm going to try and bluff him into thinking he's on the verge of being arrested if he doesn't shape up."
"And you lack the intimidation to do so," Sebastian finished dryly. I dared meeting his eyes. There was mild displeasure on his face, which spoke volumes about just how irritated he truly was at being interrupted like this. Very little emotion seemed to bleed through on him. One hand was hovering near the chain to his pocketwatch.
"Precisely. Ciel, this will only take a moment. Please."
He heard the anxiety in my voice. The young lord sighed dramatically and put one hand to his forehead.
"Fine. Sebastian, I order you to help Miss Therris deal with this. Be quick about it."
"Yes, my lord."
There was that note of displeasure in his voice again. I had certainly heard that before. The devil followed me across the street, a black shadow just behind my left shoulder. That familiar terror that nestled at the pit of my stomach whenever I was around him was starting to overwhelm my trepidation at the coming confrontation. It was a comforting fear. I had dealt with it before.
I rapped on the door and we only had to wait a moment before the landlord answered. He only studied me for a second before turning his attention on Sebastian. I let him take in the butler's fine clothing, hoping that he noticed the pin on the lapel and recognized a noble crest for what it was. I doubted it, however. Most people weren't that observant. The landlord was probably staring into those cruel red eyes and I supposed that would suffice. Physical intimidation would do just as well as status.
"I represent one of your tenants," I said without prelude, "I am detective Bridget Therris. I'm here in the hope we can resolve this matter without the involvement of the constables."
His gaze snapped back to me. A cloud passed over his features and I pressed gamely on before he could let his anger crest and break.
"You have been using threats and intimidation to extort a higher rent than agreed upon in the original contract. This will stop." I decided to gamble. I had a devil backing me up, after all. "And you will return the money you took in error to Mrs. Hanwhen."
"The bloody hell I will," he growled, "I haven't done any such thing."
"Miss Therris has gathered sufficient evidence to prove otherwise." When Sebastian spoke it felt like the temperature dropped a few degrees here in the shade. I allowed myself a humorless smile that undoubtedly was a pale parody of Sebastian's own. The man blanched. He wasn't looking at me anymore.
"And who are you?" he demanded, "You look too fancy for this one's ilk."
"I am butler to House Phantomhive," Sebastian replied and he lay a gloved hand on my shoulder, "Miss Therris has my master's favor and I am here to ensure she can carry out her business unmolested. Go bring the money you took from our client. I will see that it is returned."
Our client? The weight to the words was unmistakable. I marveled at how Sebastian could convey such convincing threats with so few words. It was also comforting to see them directed at someone else.
The landlord was greedy but he certainly wasn't stupid. Faced with the threat of both the constables and the displeasure of a noble house, he buckled and vanished back inside, promising to return momentarily with the money. I counted it there on the steps and then satisfied, handed it off to Sebastian who tucked it into his coat.
"I will be staying in contact with Mrs. Hanwhen to assure that she remains untroubled by this further," I warned, "Good day."
And the landlord was all too eager to shut the door in my face. I sighed and turned to go. Ciel was waiting for us at the curb.
"Thank you," I said to him, "That went much better than it would have without your help."
I directed my last comment at Sebastian. He reached back into his jacket and handed me the slim wallet with Mrs. Hanwhen's money.
"This detour has already taken enough time," he said, "I trust you will be able to return it without my assistance."
"Indeed," I replied just as dryly, "I'll not trouble you further."
"I would hope not."
And this time, the veiled threat in Sebastian's words was indeed directed at me. I smiled and curtseyed to Ciel, dismissing it off-hand. The boy accepted the gesture and then began walking off down the street again, his cane clicking as he went. Sebastian followed in his wake, one hell of a devil and one hell of a butler.