Alois and Claude Continued: Trancy Murder Arc Part 2

Alois doubled over and spat the last of the blood from his mouth on Cantwell's widow as she lay beaten on the floor. He glared at her unconscious form before dropping the fire poker beside her. He grimaced as the burning in his ribs continued but managed to straighten up again, making a vain attempt to wipe the blood off his shirt. It had stained, badly. The boy turned to Claude who stood impassively in the doorway. The demon's gold eyes gave no disapproval to his actions, nor any praise. They simply observed. Alois held his ribs with one arm whilst gesturing to the prone woman on the ground.

"You saw, didn't you?" The boy said. Claude inclined his head. "She attacked me before I'd even said 'hello'. And with a sodding fire poker as well? Like I'm a six-year-old slum rat in need of a thrashing?" Alois added before booting her hard in the ribs. He gritted his teeth as the burning intensified and then subsided. "Why didn't you do something? She hit me half-a-dozen times before I got her back! Where were you?" The boy demanded narrowing his eyes. His butler adjusted his spectacles.

"A Trancy butler does not act without orders. You gave none so I assumed you had control of the situation." Claude stated. His master shook his head in disbelief.

"You just want me to give up and go home, don't you? Want me to just go back to the mansion and focus on Sebastian Michaelis and Phantomhive, don't you, Claude?"

"It would be a more productive use of your time, Highness. However, I am at your command. If you wish to investigate Mr Cantwell's death I will assist you in any way I can, although I imagine his widow is of little use now." The demon replied without lowering his eyes to inspect the woman. Alois rolled his eyes before pouting.

"All I wanted to do was ask her some questions like a proper detective. She ruined it. We could have leads or clues by now if that stupid bitch hadn't tried to bat my head off." The blond boy explained with a slight growl underpinning his words. He wanted to kick her again. He wanted to put his foot through her stomach. Instead he glanced around the house in thought. "They don't have any children do they?" Alois asked, wary of more witnesses.

"Not according to what little information I could find. When Scotland Yard hear of this assault, I would not be surprised if the finger of suspicion is once again thrust upon you, Sir." Claude said. The boy scoffed.

"Bollocks. It was self-defence. She would've brained me if I'd let her carry on. She'll live, right?"

Claude walked forward and gave the widow a cursory glance. "She will. She will not live well though."

"That's her own fault. Now, start looking around this dump for clues about the meeting Cantwell thought he was having or secrets he was hiding from his ugly wife or anything else that might give us something to go on." Alois muttered picking up a clay vase from the nearby table before casually dropping it on the floor. Claude's gloved hand was suddenly on his shoulder. The boy turned in surprise at the action.

"We may already have something if we consider her reaction to your presence, Highness. She appeared to be acting as though you were her husband's killer."

"But I'm not, Claude! This is utter nonsense!"

"Consider though, Highness: she recognised you before you could even say a word. She attacked you immediately. How could she act in so assured a manner if she had not seen you before and was not confident of your identity as her husband's murderer?" Alois opened his mouth to protest his innocence further before grasping what his butler was suggesting. He frowned.

"You're saying someone impersonated me and killed him?"

"I think it a strong possibility, Sir."

The boy turned away from Claude and attempted to draft up a list of potential suspects in the privacy of his own mind. There were many candidates he could name as despising him more than enough to go to such lengths, but only one who would gain anything beyond smug satisfaction. He narrowed his eyes. "Look for any evidence linking Cantwell to my Uncle Arnold." Claude bowed at the waist.

"Yes, Your Highness."

They had only been looking for evidence for a matter of minutes before hearing a rush of footsteps outside the house. By the noise alone, an ominous sound that rumbled like closing thunder, there were a lot of feet, perhaps two dozen pairs or more. Claude abandoned his search of the master bedroom to glance out the lattice window. Alois, currently studying the interior of some Chester drawers, ignored the sound altogether.

"It would appear Scotland Yard are preparing to enter the property." The demon commented. The youth rolled his eyes.

"Is that idiot in a top hat with them?"

"Lord Randall is leading the charge, yes. He has almost twenty-five men with him."

"How do you suppose they know about our presence here? As soon as the witch attacked me, we were inside and the door was closed." Alois sighed, picking up a silver pendant from a small box inside the third drawer. It looked like a dragon.

"Perhaps they were tipped off. In any case, I would think it best we left before they reach us." Claude responded turning from the window. His master nodded whilst pocketing the pendant and a cluster of papers from the bottom drawer.

"I hope whoever is behind this is having fun, Claude. Because as soon as I find them, I'll be the only one having fun whilst gouging out their eyes with my thumbs. Let's go home." In a blur of motion, the demon butler had moved from the window, scooped up Alois in his arms and leapt out the window on the far side of the house. They exited onto a nearby rooftop where Claude remained in a crouched position, hidden behind the chimney stack, for almost five minutes. Once all the police officers were too close to the Cantwell home to see anything else, the demon tore off across the rooftops.

"You know what's funny, Claude?" Alois asked as he reclined in the bathtub later that evening. His butler dressed behind him and readied to wash out the soap from his hair.

"No, Highness. Please do tell."

"If it is Uncle Arnold trying to usurp me as head of the Trancy household, he's not being subtle about it. All the papers I stuffed in my pocket earlier are letters from him to Cantwell. Do you think…maybe he's being set-up as well? Maybe whoever's behind this wants me to think it's Uncle Arnold. Maybe they want me to kill him so I rot in prison." Alois said as his head was tilted back and clean water poured over his scalp.

"I believe your uncle despises you, but not enough to take another man's life just to make you suffer." Claude said running his fingers through the boy's hair to check for residue. "It is more likely you are being herded into thinking it is him by an unknown party."

"Like a sheep. Whoever is behind this thinks I'm stupid as well as violent." Alois remarked with an ironic smile. "They always think I'm stupid. The old man thought I was illiterate and I'm pretty sure Uncle Arnold was under the impression I didn't know Reykjavik was the capital of Iceland. Well I bloody do know it's the capital of Iceland because I read it in a sodding book. And I do know when I'm being fleeced. But if it's not Uncle Arnold, then who is it?" Alois said as the absence of Claude's fingers signalled his hair was now clean.

"What is the content of the Arnold Trancy's letters to Cantwell?"

"Boring. Really, really boring. He just prattles on and on about needing more money, having more money solving his problems and a little bit about legally trying to ruin my life. It looks like Cantwell was a barrister of some kind. Judging from how shit his house was he can't have been all too successful." The boy remarked lounging back and gazing up at the ceiling.

"I would say otherwise, Highness. The vase you broke was an antique piece from the Qin Dynasty of China. It is easily worth a quarter of this house's value if given to the right buyer. The dragon-shaped pendant you found is also a valuable piece." Claude said from the side of the bathtub. Alois frowned at this revelation and fished the pendant out from the bottom of the tub. He had been using it to scratch a persistent itch on his right buttock for the last hour, expecting such use to be the apex of its existence, but now looked at in a new light.

"But it looks so gaudy. You can't tell me it's Chinese as well." The teenager commented dangling it from its chain. The dragon depicted in profile appeared to be returning his stare.

"No, Sir, it is much rarer. It is a summoning tool for ancient demons." Claude explained to make his master abruptly sit up in surprise. Alois regarded the demon with bright eyes.

"Does it work?"

"Yes. It is from the same era in human history as the vase, roughly 200 BC. It is likely of Roman origin, judging by its design and craftsmanship." The butler said adjusting his spectacles whilst reaching for one of the folded bath towels.

"How do you summon with it? Is there an incantation or ritual sacrifice that needs performing?" Alois inquired, suddenly finding the pendant to be the most interesting thing besides Claude he had ever seen in his life.

"There is a ritual, Highness, but no need for a sacrifice. It requires a new moon and a stone circle to be performed correctly. However, were we to enact such a ritual, nothing would happen. The demon has already been summoned for servitude."

"How can you tell?"

"The eye of the dragon is open. Were there a dormant demon to summon, the eye would be closed." Claude explained now holding a bath towel open for receipt of his master's wet form. Alois regarded the open eye of the dragon closely for another few moments before tossing the pendant to the floor.

"Whatever it is, I'm sure you can crush it should it decide to attack, Claude." The boy said gingerly rising to his feet as his aching ribs made themselves known. He dressed out of the bathtub and was immediately enveloped in the bath towel and brought almost flush against the demon's chest as a consequence. He breathed deeply, savouring the smell of the demon's flesh. It was the smell of musk and lavender and birch. There was no hint of smoke or alcohol in it, no trace of sweat or coppery aroma of blood. It was neat and it was clean. Alois could easily call Claude's natural odour his favourite fragrance in the whole world, above anything a perfumery could concoct or ever hope to. "Could a demon have killed Cantwell?" Alois asked resting his cheek against his butler's chest.

"If an order is misinterpreted by a demon serving a master, it can easily lead to death, even that of the master themselves. Mr Cantwell would have to have been extremely unfortunate to die in such a fashion." Claude said whilst drying the boy's hair with a smaller towel despite their close proximity. Alois smirked.

"Is that what you're waiting for, Claude? One slip of my tongue to gift you a quick meal and easy excuse to find a new master?"

"No, Highness. I will have your soul soon enough."

"And I suppose your earlier threat was just a joke, was it?" Alois said craning his head up to see the demon's reaction. Gold eyes returned his gaze, but the circular motion of the towel on his head did not gain or lose any momentum. The expression was blank as a response was coolly issued.

"I apologise for my remark, Master. It was uncalled for."

"I don't care, Claude. I actually quite like seeing you get angry. It lets me know you care." The towel stopped moving, but only because the demon was finished with the task.

"How do you wish to proceed with your investigation now, Highness?" Claude said now beginning to dry Alois' shoulders.

"I want to know where Cantwell got his pendant. It must be from some black market in London. You can't buy evil pendants in jewellery shops."

"I believe I know of someone who deals with such occult practices. He runs a funeral parlour in Whitechapel. His true name is a mystery, but he is commonly known in the criminal underworld as the Undertaker."

"Wouldn't that mean he's part of Phantomhive's lot?" The boy asked as the demon crouched to towel his midriff. He recalled Claude informing him that all of London's criminal networks were in Ciel Phantomhive's employ whilst picking his nose.

"He is a known informant for Earl Phantomhive, but works independently. He would be willing to gift us information…for a price."

"And this price isn't money?"

"No, Highness."

Alois rolled his eyes as Claude graduated pass his buttocks and reached the backs of his knees before finishing with his calves. What was the point of his wealth if not to pay for information? So far, all his money had done was allow him to build a fort out of banknotes. "Well then, let's go see him." The teenager announced tiredly as the butler reared back up to his full height. The gold eyes flickered briefly.

"Now, Highness?"

"Tomorrow. After breakfast. Before whoever's out there tightens the net further."

"Yes, Your Highness."