Chapter Text
Patient is young adult, British, and just visiting.
Marian King is not a child. She does not resemble one… but she is still so young. Too young.
Female… Caucasian… 21… AB-…
Red hair… blue eyes… sharp features…
And there are traces of dark saliva around her neck and mouth.
“Did he chew tobacco?”
“Not in front of me, but when he kissed me… I’ve never tried it, I wouldn’t know.”
A bite wound here, teeth marks there, bruised and swollen lips.
“I’d like to see your hands please. I am going to need to scrape your nails.”
“I didn’t fight back,” says Miss King, reluctantly, “but you might try anyway.”
And, trembling, she holds out a quivering hand and Maxwell does what he has been trained to.
“Would you like a moment to compose yourself?”
Sobbing. The woman clutches her friend’s hand. “Please just get it over with. Please.”
“Are you comfortable telling me what happened or would you rather wait for the police statement?”
She shakes her head. “I-I’d rather wait. I mean, what happened is quite obvious, isn’t it? I’d rather not go into specifics until I must.”
“Quite understandable. I shall not push.”
A swab is held out and administered. It comes up rust-red and off-white. The woman cries harder, her knuckles going pale around the hand of the large man beside her.
“Do you need a moment to compose yourself?” Maxwell asks again, but she only shakes her head.
“Just get it over with,” she tells him. “Please.”
He does.