"Rust"
The room seemed unnaturally silent, now, after the ruckus that had occurred only moments earlier. Lizzy sighed, and allowed herself to slump for a moment as Mr. Undertaker looked on in concern.
She wasn't sure what had gotten into Madam Red, but her aunt had begun to rail the moment they had arrived here, beginning with an exclamation of, "Just what sort of person are you associating with?" upon the sight of Mr. Undertaker's sign, and only quieting at the mention of Uncle Vincent's history with the mortician. And then again mere minutes ago, after Lizzy had commanded the rest of her party leave the Funeral Parlor, Angelina had patronized Elizabeth in front of her associates and colleagues.
"Lizzy," her aunt had said when Mr. Undertaker had implied a price for his information, "That's terribly inappropriate! Whatever he's asking, we can cover it. You're only—"
"The Lady Phantomhive," Elizabeth had interrupted, her face set, "and Her Majesty's Watchdog."
Because while Aunt Ann might have had reasonable case regarding propriety in normal circumstances, objecting as she was to Elizabeth being alone with a man, in their current company it was superfluous; they all knew Lizzy's station as Lady Phantomhive, and they all knew what priorities it mandated.
"Little Lady?" Mr. Undertaker prompted after a minute had passed in silence, "That was quite a lot of excitement for my humble shop. I can see why you've only brought Miss Mey-Rin to visit me before. The two of you don't get soooo upset over a few neatly cut up corpses."
Allowing herself to be diverted, Lizzy caught his hint.
"Neatly?" she echoed, eyeing him closely.
"Oooops, did I say that?" Mr. Undertaker chuckled, "Well, I suppose…. You see, each of the murdered women had their uterus removed with surgical precision. You should be careful with this one; our criminal seems to have something against humans having a uterus." He peered at her from behind long bangs, and Elizabeth raised her eyebrows.
"Are you implying that I'm in danger because of my gender?" she asked, "I don't exactly meet the other specifications of the victims."
Mr. Undertaker giggled.
"No, no!" he hastened to deny, raising his hands as if warding off an attack, "I would never impinge upon your Ladyship's honor by implying that sort of thing. All the same, though…" he hesitated slightly, his good humor fading, "this case is foreboding. The murder might be choosing their victims for a reason, but they won't hesitate to harm those who get in their way. It would be prudent to stay very alert until 'Jack the Ripper' is caught."
"Thank you, Mr. Undertaker," Lizzy said thoughtfully, "I will."
The mortician remained troubled.
A/N: *sigh* Because staying up until 3 am writing fanfic is exactly what I should be doing during exam week. (Last night I cranked out, like, five chapters. You're welcome.) Also, naming these things is a bother. I'll not do titles on a theme for the next arc.
"Rust:" corrosion, decay, or a brownish shade of red