Newsflash (black butler/kuroshitsuji fanfic)

6- The Hunt for Natasha Turnplax, Or Whatever She May Go By Now

Date: 8th June, 1987
Time: 9:49
Location: Racism Central (the police station)
Temperature: take the goddamn denim off, for Christ's sake

"There's no such person as Natasha Turnplax." William announces, flopping unceremoniously into his chair, sliding some papers in Eric's vague direction.

"As expected." Alan comments, raising his eyebrows, "Her fingerprints were unidentifiable, I hardly think she's on any kind of database."

"Welch was more or less useless, I assume, then?" William asks, looking drained.

Eric frowns, "Not totally," He admits, "I mean, he was fucking soaring, but what we squeezed out of him was half decent- she's completely avoided the subject of family with him, always covered in bruises, and apparently just didn't exist before she met him, as far as he's been told, bless him."

William nods, "So we need Dallas back in to find out who the hell this woman actually is?"

"Mm-hm."

"Christ's sake."

"Thing is though," Alan begins, "We still need to figure out who called. I'm putting my money on Welch."

Eric nods, "Same," He agrees, "But we'll have to pull him in here if we want to question him again."

William shakes his head, "That's no big thing, it's more squeezing it out of Dallas- why would she lie about not knowing her?"

"I don't think she had a good family life," Alan puts forward, "I mean, she didn't want to talk about it, and if Angelina isn't even willing to say that she's related to her, that doesn't really show a good family life."

"I think the better thing to analyse," William announces, "Is whether we suspect Welch, Dallas, or suicide more."

"-Welch-" "-Dallas-" "-Suicide."

William stares blankly, yet vaguely judging, at Alan, "If I'm not mistaken, you're the only person without a history in criminology here."

Or, what he means is, 'That wasn't a question for you to answer.'

"Criminology is the study of crime," Alan replies in that flat tone that Eric knows is a joke, but William definitely doesn't, "Suicide isn't a crime. I don't need criminology to think that it was suicide."

Eric represses a giggle- Snarky little bastard.

William sucks his cheeks in a little, sighing, "Right you are, Humphries," He says eventually, and Eric is almost certain that he's repressing a laugh, too, "Slingby, I haven't met Welch yet, so I'll trust your judgement. Am I right in thinking that you're not working these next two days?"

"Yeah," Eric confirms, "Neither's Alan."

"Lovely," William says dryly, "We can give Dallas a two day notice, maybe it will make her a bit more co-operative."

Eric splutters a laugh, and Alan remains silent.

"Anyway," William continues, unfazed, "We'll arrange for about four o'clock, is that good for everyone?"

"I mean, unless I need a history in criminology to tell the time." Alan monotones dryly, looking at his nails.

Eric wheezes, his withheld laughter already a lost cause before he even tries, resting his arm on the desk.

William barely looks bothered, just sighing irritably, "I'll see you on the eleventh."

~*~