That Butler, New Face

That Butler, Disturbed

{Downstairs, Kitchen...}

BANG! BANG!

The door vibrated with every knock.

BANG! BANG!

The servants stared at the door, wondering who it could possibly be on the other side. Tanaka held a finger to his lips and quietly approached the door. Chêne grabbed a frying pan.

BANG! BANG!

Tanaka nodded to let the others know he was ready. They nodded back. Tanaka opened the door. Chêne's eyes widened.

=†=†=†=†=†=

"The fourteenth guest who ought not to exist..." Woodley said. "Hmph! There's no way such a fantastical person can..."

SLAM!

"Young Master!!" Bard called, holding a bag in one hand, as he and Finni burst into the room, followed by Mei-Rin and Chêne.

"We've caught someone dodgy!" Finni shouted.

"!!?" Ciel said, startled.

"Hey! Get in here, you!" Bard told their captive. The man stepped forward into the room. He was drenched head to toe, bound with ropes, and appeared to be a relatively aged man with slicked back black hair and eyes that Chêne would know anywhere. She stared at the man in shock along with everyone else in the room.

"... Eh...!?" the guests said.

"Wai—so there really was someone else!?" Grey yelled incredulously. "Where on earth was he hiding—?"

"... You are..." Ciel said, eyes wide with surprised recognition.

"So that means... he is the killer!?" Woodley shouted.

"Heh...!" Lau said, exhaling smoke from his pipe. He stood up. "I never for a moment thought that the fourteenth guest would himself come calling. I too am just a teensy bit taken aback!" He strode over and clapped the stranger on his shoulder. "So, who are you?" Lau asked him, totally clueless. A vein mark throbbed on Ciel's head.

"You're back to that again!?" the young earl said, annoyed.

"Are you asking for my name?" the stranger asked, looking at Ciel. A bead of sweat slid down the side of the boy's face.

"Long time no see... eh, Jeremy?" Ciel said.

"Lord Earl, do you know this old man?" Lau asked.

"Old man?" Jeremy said dubiously, raising an eyebrow.

"This is Vicar Jeremy Rathbone," Ciel replied. "He is a popular advisor at the local church and something of a celebrity."

"Please just call me plain old Jeremy," Jeremy told them with a smile.

"You are... a vicar?" Arthur said.

"How can you expect me to believe a suspicious fellow like him!?" Woodley shouted. "Only the fourteenth person, who has no alibi to speak of, could've committed the murders... Any way you slice it, it's got to be him!!"

"That logic of yours is truly nonsensical... Mister Woodley," Jeremy retorted. Woodley flinched.

"How do you know my name...!?" he asked. Jeremy smirked.

"Oh, it's quite obvious from the rings adorning your fingers," the vicar replied. "Large diamonds of that size are mined in South Africa. And the unique round brilliant-cut of those diamonds is possible only with the latest polisher recently developed by the Woodley Company. I have also heard that Daniel Anderson, a London jeweler, was aggressively promoting them to society ladies as the rarest of gems, still not widely available on the market, you see. Thus, if among the guests at Earl Phantomhive's dinner party, there is one individual wearing such rings, he is most likely to be the president of the Woodley Company... You, Mister Woodley. Was I wrong?"