The Beginning And The End

Summary: Vincent Phantomhive has a mission to track down a serial killer in London. During his investigation he meets a mysterious man who knows more than he should. Can he trust the mysterious man to aide in his investigation before the murderer kills again?


The Beginning and the End

Warnings: supernatural beings, AR, eventual Mpreg, I made up a name for Undertaker so sue me. I’m going to warn you now, the ending of this story will be bittersweet. commissioned by Jennablackfox on Ygal.

Part One

“Her Majesty will see you now, Lord Phantomhive.”

Vincent, Lord Phantomhive glanced towards the ornately decorated door inside the Buckingham Palace residence to which he’d been summoned by Queen Victoria. As always, he was quick answer the call of Her Majesty. It was his duty as an English noble to answer the Queen’s call.

Standing from his seat in the intricately embroidered chair, he moved calmly through the dimly lit hallway towards the Queen’s receiving room. Queen Victoria, along with her husband Prince Albert, led the country into progress and made Great Britain even more a powerhouse in Europe. Vincent was lucky to be considered one of her most trusted.

The steward never missed a beat as he opened the doorway and bowed. Vincent took his cue and stepped past the servant into the comfortable sitting room. Seated behind a desk, Queen Victoria presented a dominating visage in her middle age. She wasn’t the sort of monarch who allowed her husband and advisors dictate her actions. She ruled the country, not Parliament or the Prime Minister; though they were allowed to think they were the true powers in Britain. Her position demanded respect--a respect which she earned from all her subjects. Vincent’s devotion to her and her position rivaled the most devout priest to God. She was his mistress and he, her dog.

He bowed low before her, his hair following forward to shadow his eyes lowered in respect. “Your Majesty.”

“Lord Phantomhive, I trust you have been well.” Victoria stopped writing and handed the parchment to an aide standing quietly to the side. The secretary took the document and bowed before leaving the two of them alone in the room.

“I’ve been well, Ma’am,” he answered. He’d long since removed any nervousness from being called before his sovereign. All that remained was his desire to do her bidding as his position in her confidence required.

She nodded and reached into the desk to remove a packet of files which she laid before her. The motion drew his eyes, causing him to become aware of his purpose before her. He would not be called to the palace for pleasantries. He was her servant--her watchdog, and as such would do as she commanded. “Do you know the reason I’ve called for you, Lord Phantomhive?”

Vincent‘s eyes landed on the files sitting benignly beneath her perfectly manicured fingers. “No, Ma’am.”

“I called you before me because of a series of disturbances in London. For the most part, Scotland Yard has kept things quiet and the public is yet unaware of the murders but each day runs the risk of the truth being leaked. This has a potential to send the nation into a fright. I don’t need the distress on my husband or myself. Prince Albert has been unwell of late. I want you to ferret out the instigator in these unfortunate series of events. Bring him to justice before more occur. I’ve informed the investigating constables of you and they will do all they can to assist you in your investigation.”

The queen took the files and offered them to Vincent with a small smile. “I am sorry for taking you away from your country estate. I know you have been recovering from the exhaustion caused by the fever which swept through London last winter. It is regrettable but you are the only man I trust to bring this fiend to justice.”

“Your Majesty, I will do what must be done in your name alone.” Vincent bowed and accepted the files; already his mind began to prepare for the work ahead. He would spend the remainder of the day reviewing the files given to him from the queen and then arrange to meet with the inspectors on the morrow after resting from his trip into the city.

While it was true he’d suffered from the fever, he’d long since recovered and merely chose to remain at his country home to avoid matchmaking attempts by mothers of eligible women. He wasn’t interested in marriage and family, his only duty was to the crown. Perhaps in a few years he would settle down to produce an heir with a woman of appropriate breeding but not until he was ready to do so.

“Take care, Lord Phantomhive. I expect to hear promising reports from you.” She turned her piercing eyes from him and to the document before her.

At the dismissal, Vincent bowed a final time and left the room. Once more, an escort appeared as if stepping out of the very walls and led him from the palace to his waiting carriage. His servants were so well trained; they didn’t need to be told to take him home to his townhouse. The coachman cracked his whip and the carriage began to amble down the streets towards his London home.

With a heavy sigh, he rested his head on the cool leather seats and allowed the gentle sway of the carriage to lull him into a sense of peace. The clop of the horses’ hooves on the cobblestone road leading up to his townhouse provided an almost melodic sound to the otherwise silence of the ride. Occasionally the sounds of London would waft through the shuttered windows, reminding him he was no longer on his country estate but instead on a mission for the queen.

While some nobles chose to remain in London, Vincent did not care for the stench of city life. Gaming hells possessed no pull over him as they did to those of weaker willpower. The parties and teas were likewise unappealing. Other than Hyde Park, the town held no redeeming qualities. It was a potential cesspool of debauchery and while he would never consider himself a snob over those less fortunate, he chose not to remain too long amidst them. What others chose to do with their lives and fortunes was their own business as long as it didn’t affect him.

“My lord, we’ve arrived.” The coachman called and the door was opened by his butler Tanaka. The middle aged servant was born in Japan but had immigrated to England in his youth. As a butler, he was exemplary. He knew exactly what Vincent wanted before he ever spoke his needs.

“Thank you,” murmured Vincent as he stepped down from the coach, cane in hand. He always acknowledged the work of the servants. It brought a sense of connection between them and oft times encouraged them to work all the harder to please him. It also created loyalty--something one could rarely afford to buy.

“Would my lord care for tea?” Tanaka took the coat, hat, and cane from Vincent’s hands.

“Yes. In the study. I have some things I need to review. And please arrange for me to receive the London Times paper every morning. I need to keep an eye on what is being printed.” Vincent moved into the cozy study, his body welcoming the warmth from the fireplace. Despite officially being spring, the air still held on to the winter chill with the tenacity of a bulldog.

Once seated in a comfortable chair before a crackling fire, he opened the series of files given to him by the queen. Inside were a series of gruesome pictures taken. Photography was fairly new and provided a new macabre feeling when reviewing images. The crime scenes were presented to him in vivid black and white. He dreaded the day when advancements would provide colored pictures of crime. As it was, the blood splattered images were enough to make him cringe internally. He would never show his disgust. Such emotional responses were better left for women.

Tamping down the disgust, he flipped through the images. He vaguely heard the sound of Tanaka preparing his tea and setting the steaming cup on the table beside him before exiting the room as silently as he arrived. The tea was ignored at the sight being detailed before him.

Each victim was male, between the ages of eighteen and thirty-five. They were left in a posed fashion on the floor of various hotels, decapitated. Their heads were then placed against the wall facing the door as if to watch the shock and horror of their bodies being found. There seemed to be no visible connection other than they were relatively young. Their hair color and backgrounds varied from poor to wealthy.

His fingers traced the smeared blood and the writing gruesomely painted on the walls above the victims’ heads. Let the sinner be judged for I stand above the court and the crown. I am the jury and executioner. The killer was taunting the police and possibly the crown.

“Who are you?” he whispered to the empty room. Already his mind was connecting the pieces.

Long into the night he studied the mayhem created by this mysterious murderer. Never in history had such a person stepped forward. Even after he was brought to justice, it was likely his existence would be wiped from all record. There could never be something such as this to occur during the reign of Queen Victoria.

“My lord, the constables have arrived,” Tanaka informed Vincent at the morning meal.

“Good. Show them into my study. I’ll be there presently.” Vincent finished off his morning tea and toast. He took his time arriving at his study. The constables had been left to wait for nearly twenty minutes. It was all a game, intricately woven to benefit his purpose. The constables answered to him, not the other way around.

Tanaka opened the door to his office and bowed before closing the door behind him. Vincent allowed a smile to crease his lips as he moved into the room where the two men stood stiffly. “Good morning, gentlemen. I am Vincent Phantomhive--assigned by Queen Victoria to oversee the conclusion of this unfortunate series of events.”

“Unfortunate? Try horrific. The doctor we brought to examine the first body vomited in the hallway outside the room. These were living beings and the way you talk, they were just an unfortunate outcome of no real consequence as long as the queen’s name isn’t dragged through the mud.” The younger of the two constables stepped forward with a glare.

“Forgive me. I meant no disrespect.” Vincent presented his most comforting smile in order to calm the riled anger. “I would like to examine the crime scenes. Perhaps a fresh set of eyes could offer some additional insight into the murder.”

“The scenes have been cleaned by the various hotels on order from the Crown. Her majesty didn’t want the public panicking over it.” The older stepped forward. Vincent recognized him as one of the top investigators in Scotland Yard--John Barthow.

“Still, I’d like to see them.” Vincent shrugged from his seat in a large wingback chair, his smile never leaving his face.

Barthow sighed and nodded. “I figured as much. I’ve arranged with the Clairemont Hotel for you to walk through the room at your leisure. It’s the most recent scene.”

“Thank you, gentlemen.” Vincent stood and moved to escort them from his study. “If you come upon any leads, you’ll let me know?”

“Of course, Lord Phantomhive.” Barthow paused, waiting until his partner moved towards the door before turning to face Vincent head on. “I trust you’ll provide us the same courtesy.”

Vincent smiled and handed over Barthow to Tanaka who escorted them the remainder of the way. He liked Barthow. He was an honorable man despite his low born status. He possessed a quick mind which allowed him to rise through the ranks of the Yard. As such, he had to know any conclusions would never be left in the hands of Scotland Yard. It was a miracle in itself that word of the murders hadn’t been leaked.

“Tanaka, I’m going out. I won’t return until late evening.” Vincent accepted his coat and hat from the butler along with his cane. He arranged the tall hat on his head and stepped into the waiting carriage, pausing on the step to give the destination to his driver.

It was a surprisingly short drive. The Clairemont was an upscale hotel. It was another piece in the strange puzzle. What about these men singled them out for the murderer?

Approaching the front desk, he handed his card to the shift manager. The man paled before nodding and gesturing for Vincent to follow him toward the servant stairway. “We were expecting you, my lord. May we hope this is the last time we shall be burdened with your presence?”

Vincent eyed the nasally man from the corner of an eye. “I shall impose my presence on you as often as it takes to remove this smudge from the queen’s sight.”

The manager paled and opened the door. “These are our more expensive rooms. There are only four on this floor. The thickness of the walls hides the sounds. It is the perfect place to…delve into darker fantasies.”

Vincent glanced around the room, its interior having been sanitized and cleaned. There would be no evidence inside. But there was more to this visit than physical evidence. “You can leave.”

“My lord…”

“I won’t be long. I promise to leave the room just as I found it.” Vincent stepped into the room, his eyes taking in the opulence. This was a place made for the deviance even brothels didn’t provide and there was very little brothels didn’t allow. “What were you doing here that you couldn’t participate in at a brothel?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?”

Vincent whirled to face the sudden speaker. His eyes flashed over the stranger, taking in the tall slender build and long gray hair pulled back from his face in a low tail. “How did you get in here?”

“Through the door.” Lips curved in an amused smirk while long tapered fingers adjusted the dark glasses hiding his eyes.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

The smirk lengthened into a toothy grin, making Vincent feel like the stranger knew something he didn’t. He hated being out of the loop. It was a rare sensation and he didn’t like it one bit. “I’m here on royal business.”

“Is that so? It just so happens I’m here on business as well.” The smile never left his face though the humor left his tone. “There was a murder here, you know. Dreadful thing. I really do hate being pulled from vacation to handle it, don’t you?”

“Queen Victoria sent you? I don’t need assistance with this case.” Vincent kept his voice as calm as he was able, but was unable to stop the flashing anger from his eyes.

“Queen? Oh no. I wasn’t sent by the queen. I answer to a higher power. What do you say we cooperate with each other? I’m sure we can help each other out.” The stranger’s face never lost the grin, seeming almost amused at Vincent’s presence.

“I work alone.” Vincent moved towards the door only to be stopped by a hand on his arm. “Release me, sir or I’ll have you arrested.”

“If you continue to seek your villain alone, you will come up empty handed. Then what closure will you provide for your queen?” The hand tightened ever so slightly on Vincent’s arm. “I can provide you with assistance to take down you monster. I can go places your lordship could never venture. We’re working towards the same goal. I’ll even allow you the credit if that’s what you wish. My masters only care about the end while leaving the means to me.”

Vincent couldn’t argue with the man’s reasoning. There were places where he would have previously hired some men of ill repute to venture. He possessed the means and the connections to do so. He always hated relying on others for such tasks but he could never allow his name to be smudged by frequenting certain places. He didn’t trust the man. He didn’t believe for one moment they were working towards similar ends. This could very well be killer himself.

There was an age old saying which Vincent kept near to his heart. Keep one’s friends close and enemies closer. Perhaps they could assist each other or if this turned out to be the killer, he would bring him to the queen’s justice. “What did you have in mind?”

The thin lips twitched every so slightly and the grip on his arm was released. “What do the men have in common?”

“That’s what I don’t know yet. They vary from the wealthy to the poor. None seem to stand out at all.” Vincent allowed his eyes to scan the room in hope of some revelation bursting into his mind. There was nothing.

“Hmm, true…unless one knows where to look. It appears I’m a step up from you. It must be fate you met me on such a day. Allow me to introduce myself. Alistair Allegro.” The man lowered his upper body in a bow, his smile never leaving his lips. “And you are Lord Vincent Phantomhive, favorite of the queen though not one to revel in the decadence of London life.”

“We’ve met?” Vincent frowned at the man’s words. He didn’t look familiar. “I don’t recognize your name.”

“Oh no. We’ve never met. I simply know of your exploits in the name of Queen Victoria. One in my position knows many things--a regrettable fact for those who fall before my eyes.” Alistair smirked faintly at Vincent’s frown.

“You’re a bounty hunter?”

“Close. I answer to a council, if you care to think of them that way. This mission has turned out interesting in several ways. Take for instance the poor fool who died in this room. I’m sure you would have discovered it eventually, but he was a homosexual.” Alistair smirked, his hands fingering one cuff on his suit.

Vincent’s breathe stilled in his lungs. “Were the others homosexual as well?”

“Indeed. It appears you’ve found your connection thanks to me.” There was almost a giggle in Alistair’s voice.

“Don’t be smug. I’m sure once I started my investigation, I would have discovered their sexual deviance.”

“Perhaps. But don’t think you’ll find the one who did this without me. There are those who are beyond even your grasp. The world contains more than you could ever imagine.” Alistair plucked his glasses from his eyes, long gray bangs falling to hide his eyes. Only once the glasses were cleaned and back in place did he look once more at Vincent.

“What do you mean?”

Pulling out a pocket watch, Alistair smirked and turned towards the door. “It’s time for afternoon tea. Would you care to join me? I know a wonderful café not far from here. You may pick my brain if you wish, though I can’t promise I’ll answer everything.”

Vincent clenched his jaw, once more feeling more out of the loop than he’d ever experienced. For one used to being on top of everything, the feeling was disconcerting. Of course, he wouldn’t refuse a chance to discuss more on what the mysterious man knew and possibly who he worked for. If it was someone out of country, the murders might extend farther than they’d assumed.

“Tea…but at my townhouse.”

A hand was lifted to press against the expensive wool jacket. “You don’t trust me?”

“I don’t like discussing things where others might hear.” Vincent chose this moment to move past him and out of the room. Being alone with him left him with a strangely suffocating feeling. He knew it was impossible, but he couldn’t dismiss the feeling Alistair Allegro knew the inner most workings of his mind.

“Suit yourself. If you don’t mind my presence, I’ll ride with you.” Alistair trotted down the main staircase followed by Vincent. Vincent nodded to the manager as they passed the front desk. It wasn’t likely he would need to return to the hotel, probably to the man’s relief.

“A fine set you have there.”

Vincent blinked several times upon approaching the smiling man. “Excuse me?”

“The horses. Very fine, even by noble standards. What did you think I meant?” Vincent could swear he saw the hidden eyes sparkle from behind the dark glasses.

“Nothing, just get in.” The two settled in the carriage, facing each other while it swayed to motion. “Who do you work for? If not the queen, then who?”

“I don’t feel much like talking if you are going to interrogate me in such a way after I assisted you in producing a link between the victims,” Alistair sighed sadly.

“What am I supposed to think? You come out of nowhere. Right now, you are the most likely suspect in the murders. So, tell me who you work for so that I can verify your presence in London.” Vincent crossed his legs and leveled his gaze on Alistair.

There was a heaving sigh. “Once we see this through to the end, I’ll tell you whatever you wish to know.”

“Why not now?”

The smirk returned to the thin lips. “Because it’s against my nature.”

Vincent crossed his arms and remained silent through the rest of the trip. He used the silence to observe his companion. His unfashionably long hair appeared gray, yet the face before him couldn’t be older than thirty. It was lineless. He’d heard of families whose hair lost its color early on but to be the length it was, Alistair Allegro would almost have to have been born with such a color.

“Something on your mind?” Alistair’s baritone jarred Vincent from his thoughts.

“A lot, most of which revolves around you,” Vincent answered ruefully.

Alistair cocked his head to one side. “Before this is over, you’ll know more of me than you every wished to know.”

“I doubt that.”

Alistair shrugged his shoulders. “We’ll see. Ah, we’re here.”

Vincent glanced out the window to see his carriage pull before his townhouse. He chose to ignore Alistair’s presence, instead moving past him and up the stairs into the brick house. Tanaka was there to take his coat and hat, along with those of Alistair.

“Two for tea, my lord?”

“Yes.” Vincent moved into the dining area where a maid was already laying out an additional plate along with tea and sandwiches. She bobbed a curtsy to both men and exited the room quickly. “Now, you’ve got your tea. Talk.”

“You’re rather surly.” Alistair sniffed and poured the tea into both their delicate china cups. “Drink your tea. You have to ask the questions before I can answer them.”

“The last time I asked questions, you gave me the run around.”

“Ah, but you didn’t ask the right questions. You went straight for the meat which I’m not at liberty to discuss. But there are other things you can discuss…like perhaps the identity of the murder.” Alistair smirked at Vincent over the rim of his cup.

Vincent choked on his sip of tea, reaching quickly for the folded napkin and wiping at his face. “Are you saying you know who the murder is?”

“I know him, but I’m afraid knowing his name won’t aid us in tracking him down. He won’t be foolish enough to use his true name while he walks through London.”

“But you know him. How do you know him? Are you trying to send me off on a wild goose chase?” Vincent spread his hands on the table and stared intently at his companion. “Tell me the truth.”

“I haven’t lied to you, merely withheld things,” corrected Alistair while nibbling delicately on a sandwich.

Vincent waved his hand in frustration. “It’s the same thing.”

“You have no concept of fun,” sighed Alistair. “Fine. His name is Charles Boone. The name won’t help you as he’s never committed a crime against humanity until now. Feel free to have it researched if you think you must. You won’t find the name anywhere. Charles is…unique.”

“If he’s unique, then how do we capture him?”

Alistair smiled, creating a feeling of dread in Vincent. “We bring him out of the woodwork. We offer him a prize he would be unable to resist.”

“And what may I ask is that?” Vincent asked though he knew the answer.

The smile grew wider. “You.”

“Preposterous. I’m not a homosexual. He would know by now.”

“The thing is, he’s trying to make a statement. A statement to my employers and to your queen. To kill one so close to the queen would devastate her more than killing ten unknowns. That’s what he seeks.” Alistair sat forward, looking quite excited with his own explanation. “You as bait is ideal.”

“And how do we draw him out. I can’t have my reputation smudged simply to bring him out. The Phantomhive name means more than my life. It is my legacy to my children.” Vincent refused to risk his name. There were other ways to find the murderer. He would fulfill his duty while maintaining his honor.

Alistair sat back in his chair, the small smirk never leaving his face. “There are ways. I promise you, the name Phantomhive will remain as pristine as freshly fallen snow. I have my ways of insuring it.”

“Then we will do as you wish. But I warn you, if you try to back-stab me, I’ll destroy you and your mysterious employers.” Vincent stood with the grace of a panther and stalked from the room.

“Vincent!” Alistair called out, never rising from his seat.

“I didn’t give you permission to use my given name,” snarled Vincent from where he stood.

“Apologies, but since we are now lovers, I thought I should get used to calling you by a name other than Lord Phantomhive.” Alistair rose gracefully and approached the surprised lord. “Don’t worry, I’m a considerate lover.”

He lowered his lips and brushed the faintest of kisses over the slack mouth before pulling back and strutting from dining room. Vincent slumped against the door frame, still shocked at both the kiss and his reaction to it. Disgust was the last thing his mind thought of. Instead, he shivered while attempting to analyze his response before explaining it away as surprise. He refused to think any more on it and retired to his study to review what had been revealed.

To Be Continued…