Elizabeth lifted the glass of scotch and, taking a sip, threw a long, analytical look Holliday's way. When she placed it back on the desk, the sound echoed throughout the sudden silence.
"What was the murder weapon, your bare hands? What, do you doctors walk around carrying guns everywhere? Nuclear bombs maybe, in extreme cases? No, Sir, I refuse to believe it was you. And if you insist it was, here, prove it!" She raises and bares her neck again. "I am the embodiment of Bretonia's power here. Have at me!"