The Last Song [Black Butler] [Kuroshitsuji]

CHAPTER VI

"When I said relatives, I didn't mean the police!"

Dr.Quinton's face was cherry pink in a mixture of anger and humilation, his eyes blazing.

I fought to suppress a smile.

It turns out this hospital is famous for misdiagnosis and on the verge of bankruptcy. The constable on the phone had been more than willing to oblige to my requests.

A hospital with a history and a patient with an untreated problem? I believe the Yard was more than pleased to rid themselves of this pesky organization.

Leaning back in the stiff wooden chair, I crossed my arms over my chest and met the doctor's glower.

"None of you medical professionals would listen to my issues and so I thought I'd have to take matters into my own hands. I won't allow you lot to toss aside my well being. If I am ill, I should at least like to know that I am being looked after," I said, casually inspecting my finger nails for good measure.

I knew the grin on my face bordered on predatory, and I liked it that way. I wasn't some mute, terrified, powdered lady. I have a voice and, with it, a right to be heard. I wanted this doctor and all of these incompetent nurses to know I won't be bullied into whatever scheme they've concocted to swindle clientele money.

Not that I'm exactly rolling in it. Whatever money I had went on that disorienting telephone call.

The doctor sneered, his lips pulling back to reveal yellowed teeth and inflated gums.

Good grief, I may be insane but I dare say my teeth look better than that of the dear doctor's - despite not being used in quite a long time.

"Miss Katherine," the words slithered out of the old man's mouth in an almost serpentine manner. "You clearly do have a mental ailment if you suppose we, as medical professionals, aren't concerned with the patient's well being."

I didn't let the smile slip from my face. If there's one thing I've heard all my life, it's that I'm stubborn and I have nerve.

Judging by the look on the doctor's face, I'd say both are correct.

"Oh, Dr.Quinton," I tsked, drumming my fingers on the wooden armrest. "If a mentally ill woman is all that it took to crumble your sorry excuse for an establishment, I'd say that I'm doing you lot a great favor. Don't you agree?"

Just as he moved to step closer to me, a voice intruded between our battle of wits.

"Oi!"

Pausing in his rage, the doctor and me both whipped our heads to the doorway to see a uniformed man in black and gold eyeing my competitor.

"You be that wonky doctor?" The constable barked out, his voice crudely slipping past a pair of abnormally scabbed lips.

At the man's nod, the officer pulled out a pair of gleaming circles. "I think you ought'a come with me."

"This is absurd!" The doctor protested as the policeman cuffed him. "I haven't done anything wrong! This woman is - "

"Tell that to the jury, sir," the officer said in exasperation, placing a gloved hand on the distraught man's shoulder and guiding him out of the room.

And good riddance to him.

As the pair disappeared down the hall, I strolled out of the room and glanced around only to find the hospital deserted.

Where are the detectives?

"Uh, miss?"

Jumping, I wheeled back to see a flushing man who couldn't meet my eye. He wasn't wearing the traditional double-buttoned uniform the constables wore and I guessed he must be a DS, then. "Detective Chief Inspector Aberline would like to speak to you."