Murder in the Clinic
Chapter 4: A Little Bit of Questioning

Awaiting the test results of a patient House got that very morning, shortly after speaking to Cuddy about the current investigation, House sat at his desk, his eyes glued to a Bop It as its irritating sounds filled the room. Suddenly his office door opened to reveal two strangers, a stony faced, gray haired woman, and a younger quirky looking individual with a nervous look on his face.
    “Dr. House,” addresses the older woman. House continues playing his Bop It, the loud, obnoxious commands doubling to Grey’s impatience. “Dr. House.” She repeats, clearly on the end of her rope. After no reaction, she snags the toy out of his grasp, earning a “172,” and an “Ahh, sorry but you lose!” from the Bop It, and not to mention a killer glare from Dr. House. The two detectives flashed their IDs , and approached his desk.
    “Dr. House, I’m Detective Gray, this is Detective Condon.” The woman says, motioning to quirky boy. “We’d like to ask you a few questions concerning your patient, Andrew Stone.”
    “Fire away.” House said confidently, sizing up the two detectives.
    “Dr. House, where exactly were you yesterday at 4:40 PM to 5:05 PM?” Gray inquired. House ponders for a moment.
    “Well at 4:40 I was in the clinic, but at 5:00 I left and went home.”
    “Just one.” House said with a yawn.
    “And who was this patient?” Gray questioned.
    “Oh, I’m sure you already know.” House rolled his eyes. “Otherwise I’d still be playing the Bop It.” Condon looked at him quizzically. This guy sure had a lot of nerve.
    “Dr. House, answer my question.” Gray repeated. “Who was your patient?”
    “Andrew Stone.”
    “And exactly why was he there?” House racked his brain a bit.
    “He had a sore throat judging from his file.” Gray looked at him with a confused expression.
    “But what about that little quarrel you two had a few days ago? Didn’t he threaten to sue you?”
    “Yes, he did.” House assured, and started fiddling with an oversized tennis ball.
    “Did he at any point bring up this fight anywhere in the conversation?” She asked.
    “Uhh huh…” House said, his eyes fixed on the tennis ball.
    “What exactly did he say?” asked the suddenly not so quiet Detective Condon. House throws the ball in the air and catches it with a flourish.
    “He said he wasn’t going to sue me.” House muttered, not taking his eyes off of his toy.
    “Excuse me, but could you repeat that?” Condon asked. House put down the ball and looked him straight in the eyes.
    “He said,” House began, his icy blue eyes sending a sharp, honest look into Condon’s. “That he was not going to sue me.” He said slowly and simply, earning a skeptical look from Gray and an intrigued one from Condon. Suddenly the lyrics of “Paint it Black” filled the room, breaking the silence. House pulled a blue cell phone out of his pocket and flipped it open.
    “What?” He snapped. He paused as he listened to the voice on the other end. After flipping the phone shut again, House stood up.
    “If you excuse me, my patient is coughing up blood.” Condon watched as House limped off to the elevators, aided with the help of a slender wooden cane. A cane roughly the same size and shape as the ugly purple bruise on Stone’s neck. Condon was shocked at this new discovery, but judging by the look of Gray’s arrogant smirk, it didn’t surprise her.