Another murder. This was getting ridiculous. And Scotland Yard still didn't know a thing.
This time it was a countess who had been killed in the bath—someone had mixed a snake in with her bath salts. No witnesses saw anyone, no one had access to the bath salts all day, no one even knew that she was dead until the maid came in to change the towels.
It was so infuriating! Infuriating and irritating and humiliating! Here he was, the Queen's Guard Dog, and he couldn't even do anything!
"Did you really find nothing?" Ciel snapped at his butler. Sebastian shook his head, just as vexed as the young master was.
"Nothing my Lord. I'm sorry."
"But how can there be absolutely nothing? Even the professionals leave something!"
"They must be absolute professionals, then."
"There's no such thing," Ciel said, but the thought still lingered in his mind. Absolute professionals? Inhuman professionals? But Sebastian had told him once that inhuman activities usually leave more traces than human ones. Unless…
"Sebastian, is there something that you're not telling me?"
"No, my Lord."
"I order you to tell me everything you know about this case!—Everything that I don't know, that is."
"Yes my Lord." Sebastian leaned in close and whispered in Ciel's ear, "Nothing."
"'Nothing?' You know nothing that I don't know?"
"Yes my Lord."
"But how is that even possible?"
"As I said, my Lord, perhaps we're dealing with absolute professionals. And to find an absolute professional…"
"…we're going to need an absolute professional," Ciel finished and then stood up. "Come, let's go."
"Where, my Lord?"
"Outside, away from this mansion. I need to get away from it all for a little bit."
"Certainly, sir."
Eleanora was out shopping with another maid, pushing her way through the crowds, kicking the occasional shin, hurriedly biting off words that would probably have gotten her instantly fired if anyone had heard her.
The other maid, of course, was no help. She kept on squeaking like a dying rat, hesitantly tapping on shoulders and politely asking people to move.
"E-Excuse me, sir, b-but can you please—?"
"MOVE IT BALDY!" Eleanora shouted in his ear and elbowed him between the ribs, effectively pushing him aside.
"Eleanora!" the other maid scolded. "Now that's not proper behaviour at all, especially for a maid!"
"God, you act like I care," Eleanora muttered and kicked someone in the shin.
"But Eleanora, you…"
"AND YOU'RE ANOTHER YA LITTLE SNOT-NOSED PUNK!"
"But Eleanora, how are you planning on meeting someone nice and gentile if you go on swearing like that?"
"That? Swearing? That was barely an insult! Believe me, when I swear, you'll never confuse swearing again."
"But think of your future!"
"I am thinking of my future. What do you think the missis will do to me if I don't get all these groceries? Trust me, this is the only way to get things done—MOVE IT YA BOZO!"
Unfortunately, despite Eleanora's best efforts, by the time all the grocery shopping was done it was already very dark outside. Eleanora looked around for a bit, checked the time, and promptly started striding towards an alley.
"What are you doing?!" the maid said, running towards her. "Where do you think you're going?!"
"Me? I'm going home. It's late and I'm tired and I'm probably going to get yelled at for bringing the groceries home late."
"Well, why don't we just go home the normal route? It's quick."
"It's not quick enough. If we go this way, with luck we'll get in time for only a half-hour's scolding."
"But alleys are dangerous! Especially at night. There could be homeless people and rats and all sorts of nasty diseases and…"
"Nothing I haven't dealt with before," Eleanora said, waving her hand aside. "Now, are you coming with me or going alone?"
The maid took several steps back.
"Suit yourself. You'll see me back at the house." And she strode confidently into the alleyway, passing two men gesturing over a newspaper.
"Did you hear? Another murder!"
"Simply dreadful! A countess in the bath!"
"Boy, I'd pay good money to see that!"
They laughed.
"They say that the Queen has sicced her Guard Dog on the murderer."
"The Queen's Guard Dog! Ruler of the underworld!"
Eleanora scoffed as she passed them. The Queen's Guard Dog indeed, the so-called "ruler of the underworld." Another title bestowed onto some moron who felt underappreciated. He should know that the underworld was un-rule-able. What happened in the underworld stayed in the underworld and no one in the "proper" world above could do anything about it. And this "Guard Dog", whoever he was, was certainly taking his sweet old time in finding the murderer. It was fairly obvious; even she could probably have found him out by now. Or perhaps he was just biding his time. She shook her head. She would never understand the nobility.
She entered the bad part of town, where a man was getting kicked out of a whorehouse, still clutching some woman's ripped corset. She rolled her eyes. Imagine the fuss the Guard Dog would kick up upon seeing something like that!
No, the Guard Dog was useless in the underworld; anyone who had ever come close to the underworld could tell him that. Even now, he was probably banging his head on the table, searching for a clue.