( chapter twenty-one ! )
"Mr. Phelps!"
Only the sound of crackling thunder can be heard throughout the room when the body of Patrick Phelps is discovered, a third round of wide eyes and stances of discomfort wash over the guests. This has been the third dead body to be discovered within two days. Paired with the fact that none of them can just up and leave due to the weather, it causes tension to fester.
Arthur, seemingly feeling brave, is the closest one to the body. Nearly everyone else has almost backed themselves against the walls, but the wordsmith crouches beside the body to get a closer look.
"Rigor mortis is already setting in. So he's been dead for a while," says Arthur with a shake of his head.
Standing in the doorway, Grimsby shields Irene from the body. "Are we having some kind of nightmare?" he asks.
'Oh, that would be wonderful.. My dreams have always been strange. Perhaps this is just a long one?' Beside Ciel, Leah stands between him and Anna. The feeling of discomfort overcomes her, and she uses her hands to cling onto them, hoping to feel a semblance of comfort. The girl can only wish to disappear from the situation.
"He doesn't have any external injuries like the other two though.." Arthur points out while searching Phelps' body before his eyes widen in shock when he lifts the collar of his shirt. "There's a wound on his neck like he was stabbed by something! It might be from a needle-like object that was used to inject a poison."
Ciel lets out a noise of question before his eyes begin to drift past a short wall, falling upon the sight of Lau and Ran Mao ransacking his closet full of clothes, hats, and shoes.
"Wow, the Earl sure lives in a nice room~" Lau muses, sifting through the numerous different coats the younger boy owns. Crouched down beside him, Ran Mao carefully places hats on her head as she stares blankly at the floor.
Eye twitching in shock and annoyance, Ciel can already feel his irritation growing. "Don't just search people's rooms as you please!" he yells.
The pair ignore Ciel's words of protest in favor of examining a piece of fabric, earning a smirk from Lau. "You held on to the clothes I gave you~ Did you wear them?" Ran Mao wears the hat Ciel wore when he attended Viscount Druitt's ball, holding up the garment for Lau to see.
"Listen when people are talking!" the earl's voice is nearly a shout when he is ignored, striking even more annoyance within him.
Peering past her fiancé's shoulder, Leah perks up at the sight of Lau and Ran Mao going through Ciel's items. Having lost her will to care in the moment and hoping to feel normal, she shifts and begins walking over to the pair. However, her interest in joining in on the run is short-lived when Ciel grabs ahold of her upper arm, preventing her from moving any further.
"Don't get involved with those two.. No shame," Ciel complains with a mutter, gently guiding Leah back to her original spot while trying to ignore the small pout sitting on her cherry-tinted lips.
Before Leah can find it in her to complain, the sound of Arthur's voice draws her attention. "It also resembles a kind of bite mark, but.."
"A bite mark in the neck.." Irene speaks up, holding a hand towards her heart. "It sounds just like Carmilla."
Ciel hums in acknowledgment. "By Carmilla, you mean Le Fanu's 'The Vampire Carmilla'?" he asks, though his voice lacks much tone or emotion.
With a nod, Irene grips her arm a bit tighter. "Yes. Do you know it?"
Turning her head, Leah looks up at Ciel with a tilt of her head, furrowing her brows to show her confusion. Initially, the Earl can't understand why his fiancé is staring at him, thinking this is her being strange again. But his eyes widen a tad bit moments later, mouthing the words 'a book' and earning a faint nod from the girl. 'I'll have to read that one..'
"You're saying this guy's been killed by a vampire?! Don't be ridiculous!" Woodley shouts, directing his words towards Irene. "You can't say that kind of occult and unscientific nonsense in the nineteenth century!"
Ciel crosses his arms with a shrug, looking unimpressed. "Unscientific, huh.. I guess you could say that."
"Two thirty-eight."
Both Leah and Ciel perk up at the sudden voice cutting through the protests of the others, wandering over to Arthur, who is holding a square-shaped clock in his hands. The glass covering the clock part of the item is shattered and leaves the hands stuck in place, showing the time it broke. Two thirty-eight.
"That's the clock I keep at my bedside, isn't it?" asks Ciel, peering down at the kneeling wordsmith.
With a nod, Arthur places the clock upright on the bedside table. "I guess it probably fell when he was writhing in pain.. It's broken."
Examining the clock as well, Leah tilts her head to get a better view of the details. For half a second, her face lights up at the sight, thinking the item is quite cute.
She turns her head towards Anna, who stands in the doorway, blocking the trio from seeing the dress Ciel wore to Viscount Druitt's ball. "Anna, why don't I have a clock at my bedside?" she questions, beginning to want one.
"You never asked, Mistress," the maid replies. "And you would realize that we wake you up earlier than you request.."
Leah's face contorts weirdly. "What?"
"We wake you up earlier than you would like. You never notice, but if you had a clock, you would," Anna shifts on her feet, preparing for her master to yell at her.
However, the maid feels a sense of surprise when no sound comes from Leah's mouth but a small 'oh.' Leah can't find it in her to care about being woken up early, as she typically only does when she is awoken in a foul mood.
"Well, I would like one," Leah fiddles with her fingers, noting the lack of gloves on her hands.
Anna gives a small nod in response. "That can be arranged."
A comfortable silence falls upon the maid and lady, neither having anything else to say. Both of them have a memory that is quite good, so Leah hardly has any doubts that Anna will fail to remember when they return home. Even if Anna doesn't manage to remember, there is a good chance Leah will and will spend hours bothering her father.
"Leah?"
The sound of her name rings out in her ears, flicking her eyes over to Ciel, who politely passes by Anna in the doorway. His head is turned back towards her, his eyes never leaving her own.
"We are going to the drawing room for tea," he says, realizing she hadn't been paying attention to anything he or Arthur had said in the past minute.
Perking up at the mention of a potential moment to sit down and relax or talk Ciel's ear off, Leah gives a small nod. She motions for Anna to follow her as well but prioritizes latching onto Ciel's arm, determined not to acknowledge that she's walking across the room where someone died. Regardless, a pastry does sound enticing after skipping her meal.
Gathered around a table, the guests are seated on plush sofas as they reach for cups of tea or pastries on plates. Although she anticipated sitting near Ciel, Leah sits at the opposite end of the table beside Ran Mao, Charles to her right at the other end of the table. Her eyes twitch every so often when she hears his incessant chewing, quietly sipping on her cup.
"Well then, we've eaten dessert, so let's sort things out," Charles chirps, crumbs on his cheeks as he finishes up chewing. "First of all, Lord Siemens. His death was around ten past one this morning. The only one who doesn't have an alibi is Earl Phantomhive. Next is the butler.. His time of death is unknown. Finally, Mr. Phelps. His death was thirty-eight minutes past two this morning.. Am I correct?"
Everyone pays attention closely as the times of deaths are recounted, causing a slight tension in some around the table.
Arthur is the only one to chime in. "No, the butler's corpse was found first, but who was actually killed first is still unknown."
With a nod, Charles agrees as he places a finger to his chin, seemingly in thought as he goes back over the words he said.
"From their condition, we know that a few hours had passed between them being killed and our finding them," says Arthur, using a pen to point at what he's written in a book. "At this stage, me and the Earl, who were chained to the bed til morning, have an alibi."
Charles leans back in his chair with a huff, nearly hitting his foot against the table. He doesn't seem to notice the glares of annoyance Leah sends in his direction, though that is most likely because she softens her face before he can even get the chance to turn his head.
Pulling a cup of tea away from his lips, Ciel responds to Arthur's words with a nod. "Me and the wordsmith got into bed and were chained to it at around two o'clock. Just before then, Sebastian said he had already guided Mr. Phelps to his room. And Mr. Phelps was killed at two thirty-eight."
"So, who saw Mr. Butler last?" asks Lau.
"That would probably be us, but," a bead of sweat drips down Arthur's cheek, "not only was it dark, but the clock was rather far away, so I can't tell you the exact time.."
A short string of silence falls upon the guests, everyone feeling uncertain. The amount of new information being fed to them in so little time is enough to jumble anyone's brain.
"Ah!" Finnian calls out suddenly, raising his arm high. "We saw Mr. Sebastian in the middle of the night!"
Meyrin begins to nod along, standing a little behind the energetic blond with Bardroy at her side."M-Me too!"
"At what time was it?" asks Bardoy, arms crossed over his chest.
"Hmmm.. I'm certain it was around two fifty," replies Finnian, trying to recount the night's events.
Arthur places down a few more notes in his book. On the other end of the conversation, Leah silently gossips in Ran Mao's ears even though she seems focused on the topic at hand. She knows that Ran Mao is listening, even if she doesn't show it, so she continues to talk away, ignoring any strange glances thrown her way.
"So this means Sebastian was killed last," Arthur lifts his pen from the paper. "What did he want?" he asks Bardroy.
"He came to me to confirm the food stock, and he gave me these instructions on cleaning the hearths," Bardroy moves his hands as he speaks. "He asked me to.. take care of a delivery.. owl?"
Everyone perks up at the mention of something so odd, though it is most prevalent on the faces of the chef and Ciel.
"An owl?" asks Ciel, shifting his head to pay closer attention.
Bardroy looks down. "As opposed to pigeons, owls can fly through a storm. It's just like him to think of everything."
Turning her body around, Leah glances at Anna, who stands a bit farther away from the Phantomhive servants. Her gaze is trained on Bardroy as he speaks, but she primarily focuses on her master, which is why she's so quick to notice the look on her face.
"Mistress?" she asks.
"You can just own owls?" Leah tilts her head, her face displaying a look of want.
A sigh leaves the maid, knowing what the girl wants to ask. The only response Anna gives her is a firm shake of the head. Not to say that one cannot own an owl, but more so to deny the inevitable request of asking to have one.
Leah gives a small pout, also understanding the meaning of Anna's silent no. Growing up as the daughter of a wealthy marquess, there's no doubt that she's spoiled. But she knows better than to cause a scene in front of this many people, especially after what she did to Georg Von Siemens.
"He might have sent a letter to the police," says Arthur, drawing Leah's attention.
Ciel shrugs in response, also trying to think of what could have been the contents of Sebastian's letter. "Seeing as the telephone wouldn't connect in a storm like this, I guess so."
"However, if Sebastian was the last to be killed, the story becomes more complex," Arthur glances over his notes and doesn't seem to notice the look Charles casts to the side. "The only ones who could lock the Earl's room would be Mr. Phelps himself, who was in the room, or Sebastian, who had the key. Which means that Sebastian being the killer is the most likely scenario, but Sebastian was killed."
Picking up a cup of tea, Lau decides to chime in from his spot on the couch. "So maybe.. the butler joined up with someone, and together they committed the murders, but then, afterward, they quarreled over the rewards the job would bring, and finally he was silenced?" he suggests, quick with his thoughts.
Ciel leans his head on his hand, casting a glance at Leah, who listens intently to Lau's words while simultaneously running a finger over the fabric of her dress. "It's not unthinkable. In that case, the probability of the killer being someone who would gain from their deaths seems high."
"So it would seem~ Money makes the world go round," Lau muses, causing Woodley's face to darken. "Mr. Phelps was the heir to Blue Star Line, a major company in the marine transportation business. He was a little weak-willed but had enough skill to be entrusted with the foreign trade branch and recently even expanded the business to the Asian region."
Those in the room recall Phelps and the behavior he exhibited throughout the night. It can certainly be a surprise at first glance that he holds such a high title, given that he was quite timid and unsure of himself. But Ciel doesn't seem to care much for Lau's words, laying his eyes upon him.
"Lau," Ciel speaks, catching the man's attention as he points a finger in his direction. "He was your business rival."
A smirk grows on Lau's face at the words, lifting the cup of tea in his hands to his lips. "Well, I guess that's true."
"Furthermore, you walk around carrying a needle in those dragging sleeves of yours, do you not?" Ciel's accusatory finger doesn't budge from its place, though he appears nonchalant despite the weight of his words.
The room goes silent. No one can find the words for what to say when the Earl's words reach their ears. Even Leah is silent, instead sending a side glance in Lau's direction while moving half an inch away in her seat.
"What?"
"Yes, I am carrying one," Lau smirks and retrieves a needle hidden within his sleeve, holding it in between his fingers. "It's used in oriental medicine, though."
"What?!"
The room, previously silent, now erupts in shouts and screams. Leah has now gotten up entirely in favor of standing beside Anna, thinking of a possible escape route in the chance that Lau truly is a killer. 'I suppose I could just throw myself out of a window?'
"Y.. You killed Phelps!" yells Woodley.
Beside him, Grimsby points a finger at Lau. "You bastard! You searched the Earl's room just now, didn't you? Are you sure you weren't just destroying evidence?!" his voice carries throughout the room.
"Oh, my~" Lau shrugs his shoulders and brings his arms up, hands drowning in his sleeves. "Aren't you being a bit too rash about this? How do you think I could make a locked room murder from that far off walk-in-closet? There's no door going outside there, and even though we're Chinese, it's not like we can just pass through ventilation shafts or something."
Envisioning Ciel's bedroom and the way Phelps was found, the guests listen to Lau's explanation.
"And I have an alibi for the time Lord Siemens was murdered anyway," he states, forcing everyone to recall how Lau was drinking with Woodley and Ran Mao. "But the Earl is such a bully~ You don't need to take revenge on me now, you know?"
"Do I really need to hear that from you, who suggested confinement?" Ciel deadpans with Arthur. "Well, in any case, there's no one who could have killed all three, even if they teamed up with Sebastian. I was just teasing you," he takes a long sip of tea.
Arthur is quick to perk up at Ciel's words, peering down into his book. "That's true."
Watching as the wordsmith bends over to begin ferociously scribbling, Irene's brows knit in worry. "What are you talking about?"
The sound of a pen moving back and forth on the paper is all that can be heard for a long few moments, everyone watching Arthur in quiet suspense. He quickly makes a chart full of the names of all the guests, including the dead ones and their times of death.
"If I put it in a simple chart.." Arthur holds up with piece of paper for all to see. "It'd look like this. The only one who could have killed Lord Siemens at ten last one was Earl Phantomhive. The only one who could have killed Mr. Phelps at two thirty-eight was Sebastian. And anyone but me or the Earl could have killed Sebastian at ten to three. So, even if they worked with Sebastian, it's impossible that a single person could have caused this string of murders!"
Woodley's hands clench, and his face becomes agitated. "If it's impossible to do alone, then the people who came as a pair are the criminals!" he proclaims with sweat dripping down his forehead.
Equally as irritated and angered, Grimsby stands abruptly. "Are you kidding me?! On top of being trapped in here, I'm being treated as a criminal?!"
"Grimsby, calm down!" Irene calls out, wrapping her arms around his hips.
Backed up in their little corner, Leah and Anna eye the situation uncomfortably. The high tensions and severe anger dripping off of guests is unsettling, especially for the two of them. The likelihood of one of the men attacking them is low, but neither is necessarily strong enough to fight back if that small chance happens.
However, the Barrett subtly appears somewhat entertained by the idea of Woodley losing his composure. She can't voice that thought in case she draws suspicion to herself, but knowing a man who irritates her is lashing out and making himself seem like a likely culprit makes a smile threaten to break out on her face.
Leah leans down to position her lips beside Anna's ears. "I am inclined to believe some of these people are going mad.." she whispers lowly.
"Who wouldn't?" Anna retaliates. "We are stuck here with a potential murderer, and no one knows who it is for sure."
Eyes focusing on Ciel's face, Leah drowns out the sounds of Woodley beginning to shout and bang his fists on the table. "Do you think.. I killed Sebastian?" her voice trembles, recalling the secret Anna wishes she never revealed.
"No!" the sound of Anna's voice raises a bit too high, almost drawing attention away from Woodley's ongoing outburst. "It's impossible, Mistress. I woke up periodically throughout the night, you hardly moved."
Giving a hasty nod, Leah goes silent. She begins to bite her lips and pick at her manicured fingertips, taking a deep breath as she situates her focus onto Woodley, who is somehow still yelling. 'I want to forget all of this..' her thoughts echo in her head as though they are trying to claw their way out.
But as much as she may wish, it simply isn't possible to escape the chambers she calls her mind. So, to ease the neverending noise that plagues her waking moments, she tunes in on the current topic at hand.
"I'm going home!" the man is quick to swivel around the sofa and point a finger at Arthur. "Like I'd let myself be killed!"
"Please wait! It's impossible in this storm!" Arthur rises from his seat in an attempt to follow Woodley and prevent him from leaving, piquing the interest of Leah. "You should stay here to avoid suspicion as—"
Arthur's words are cut off by the sound of a harsh slap echoing throughout the room, Woodley's left hand connecting harshly to his cheek. It's near deafening and causing a string of gasps amongst the women, though almost everyone settles on wide eyes. Leah, naturally a gossipmonger, leans in a bit closer to hear more.
"I don't take orders from a mere doctor!" Woodley's voice is loud as he sends Arthur flying back until he hits the table, breaking cups and plates as well as colliding with Lau and Ran Mao's ankles.
"Woodley. The one who's telling you to sit down is me," cup and saucer in hand, Ciel's face is dark as he glares at the huffing man, "so sit down already."
Face contouring in utter anger and irritation, Woodley begins to charge for Ciel's seated form. "Don't order me around!" he shouts at the top of his lungs, hand tightly clenched in an attempt to collide with the boy's face.
"Earl!"
"Ciel!"
The room fills with yells of surprise from the guests, but they go up a volume when Tanaka suddenly interferes. Grabbing Woodley by the arm, Tanaka faintly twists it before using the leverage to slam the man into the ground, propping a knee on his back for extra measures. While Ciel appears unfazed, everyone else stares on in shock.
Leah, unwilling to stand idly any longer, runs straight for Ciel's seat with surprising ease for the shoes adoring her feet. She leans down to try and look at his face, worry written all over hers.
"Ciel, are you alright?!" she asks with uncertainty, her voice louder than she typically allows it to be.
Taking another sip of his tea, Ciel gives a firm nod. "I am quite alright," he ignores the words Tanaka directs at Woodley in favor of glancing into his fiancé's eyes, noting a small sparkle and a hint of emotion swirling within them.
The Barrett is incapable of protesting to get a better look or more reassurance due to Ciel reluctantly shifting his attention to the man on the floor. Woodley's expression is of pain and a bruised ego, something Leah can't deny that she enjoys seeing when it comes to men.
"Mister Woodley. You'll obey our orders then?" Ciel's words receive nothing in return from the man, though he can hear a faint giggle in his right ear from a voice he's all too familiar with. "Well then. Currently, the only one who really couldn't have been the culprit is Mr. Wordsmith. I think it'd be safest and fairest to put Mr. Wordsmith in charge of deciding our actions from now on."
"Me?!" exclaims Arthur in surprise as he points a finger at himself, a bruise noticeable on his cheek from Woodley's blow.
Ciel places his cup down on the saucer, brushing past Leah to set it on the table. His expression holds one of annoyance and exhaustion, unlike his betrothed, who now seems wide awake after the violent dilemma.
"Yes," he lets out a puff of air. "I don't really want a criminal prowling around in my manor."
The guests begin to discuss amongst themselves, everyone surprisingly coming to an agreement that Arthur should be placed in charge. Even Leah, who typically likes to stir fights, seems to be fine with it.
But there is one thing she isn't so quick to push aside.
"Would you still love me if I was a criminal?" asks Leah, directing her question towards Ciel.
Furrowing his brows, Ciel glances up in confusion and mild strangeness. "What?"
"Would you still love me if I was a criminal?" Leah repeats her question. "Would you still marry me, or would you have me killed?"
Ciel is quick to begin sharply shaking his head, refusing to answer the question or entertain her antics any further. He knows that the questions are both a trap and something he finds utterly ridiculous. Though, he does find himself pondering in the back of his mind.
"Then it's decided. There's plenty of time until the storm dies down anyway," he swallows a lump in his throat, now casting his eyes upon Arthur to ignore the pouting Leah, who stares holes into the back of his head.
Leaning back in his chair, Ciel brings his hands up and intertwines them. He rests his head on his hands and flashes a final smile at the wordsmith,
"Let's thoroughly corner this criminal."