Bobbin - Kingsley knew that last name. And judging from her age - and skill with a wand, for as little as he had seen of it - she was one of the Death Eater ones. Brilliant. Yes, his boss was a Death Eater. And yes Kingsley worked with them, including on political cases. But this one, at least, had been motivated by little more than human greed. Kings liked these kinds of jobs. There were real bad guys.
"I heard they had called up someone from the Committee for Experimental Charms," Kingsley replied, about who she was. He stayed on top of work gossip - preferably the important stuff, not who fucked whom. Though, Parkinson had brought it to work before. Carefully, he summoned the unconscious one inside and his wand. Binding him the standard way, Kingsley cast wards over the building to prevent anyone not a hitwitch or hitwizard from entering, so that evidence wasn't tampered with.
Her shoulder was bleeding, but the bandage let Kingsley know it wasn't new. My oh my, Melinda Bobbin was a busy little Death Eater then. "You're a bit foolhardy to come," he commented indirectly.