There was always something empowering about knowing things that others didn't, or surprising them with what you could figure out, but in order to do that, there had to be a sense of surprise involved. So he wasn't about to explain how he knew that Warren would be arriving, or how he knew when, but it was still a bit of a rush to see the lieutenant standing there at the door, when Thom had managed to arrive just at the proper time to be standing behind him, Artos sitting patiently at his feet. There was a bit of a game to it, when all was said and done. It took time to prepare, and he'd had precious little time to spare while working on this particular puzzle for Warren. Still, he'd managed to work some things out.

Between the tea and the... other things, he hadn't even seen Temperance as much as he liked, though her help on the former had been invaluable. Artos had been a great help as well, because no one really looked twice at the man walking his dog. Well, they might look at the dog, but it could be surprising just how often they barely even noticed Thom there. Take a cute bundle of fur along with you, and the city just... opened.

And was what gave him enough time to wait for the knock, leaning against the fence with small smile. "Good afternoon, Lieutenant." So, he needed a little bit of practice keeping the smile out of his tone, but the anticipation of the reaction was enough. "Why don't we take a walk? I'd prefer to tread on Ms. Tower's toes as little as possible, and it's best to stay on the good side of the caretaker as well. Besides, there's a nice, quiet path through the woods back there, and I'm sure it would be best to keep the encroaching conversation away from any potentially prying pairs of ears.

The sound of Thomas's voice behind him had him spinning. Naturally, his hand moved to the sword on his hip before his eyes rested on the man who he was there to meet. As quickly as it rested there, it was gone and his fingers were locking behind him instead. He inclined his head to Thomas, eyes scanning the garden for anyone else that might appear like apparitions as the man had, but found no threats. Only flowers, herbs, bushes, and vines. "Yes, good afternoon, Mr. Skerrick," he finally said, taking a step away from the cottage door.

Paranoia was a very real sensation to a man who had been digging deeply into murder and back alley crimes, and even more so for a man weighted down with the memories of war. For a moment the offer sounded suspicious, and though he was fairly sure he could easily take Thomas Skerrick in a fight, that didn't mean the man didn't have backup in the woods. The proposal itself might have seemed a little suspicious, but the man himself wasn't. And he was right - it was best as few people hear this information as possible. Involving others could put them in danger. And Berengar Stormcrest trusted these people. So after a few moments of though, he would reason that he was in no real danger. If that was a mistake he made, at least Lady Aveline knew where he'd been going for the day, and why.

"Yes, a walk sounds fine," he agreed. He would follow Thomas to the entrance of the woods, only then noting the puppy that he'd seen during his last visit was there. As they passed him by, he'd lean down to scratch behind the pups ears, before continuing to follow. He would only speak again once they were on the path and secluded. "I hope you've found something promising. I admit that without your help, I'm at a standstill. I have few other leads to go on, and nothing solid to hold over Whitby's head when I interrogate him."

A small smile was the only small concession Thom made towards showing his pleasure at having surprised the Lieutenant, but then again it was a rather childish game to play, when you thought about it. So he didn't think about it any longer than it took for Warren to lace his fingers behind his back again, giving a tiny little nod of his head towards the woods. It was easy enough to walk in the silence, aside from the soft tread of their boots, the scuffle of Artos' paws, the occasional snuffle as the puppy left the faint track to go off chasing a scent in the undergrowth. And it was here that Thom felt... safe. He had been struggling a bit not to bring the faint paranoia home, but these woods were a balm on his senses, his shoulders slumping slightly in relief at each fresh breath of moist, slightly woody air.

"I have indeed." Was his only response at first, until he turned aside from the path into a small secluded glade laden with clover. There was one tree that had grown wonky, with a low fork that he could neatly settle upon as he turned back to the lieutenant. "But it's not exactly a total success, I suppose. I'll begin with what my external inquiries have revealed, because they are connected. Most of my work is poring over numbers, spreadsheets, manifests and the like, but even then, it took some time to actually discover something odd." He cast a glance about for Artos, but the puppy was busy digging his nose into a hole in the roots of a nearby tree, and the eager wiggling of his hips was enough to tell Thom that he would be occupied with it for quite some time. "The port of Skia is a very busy place. Over the last few seasons, multiple vessels have submitted last minute changes to their voyage plan. Nothing too suspicious on its own, but many of them also added a particular good to their manifests. I first noticed it on one of the earlier ones, because there was no reason I could think of that a ship arriving from a stone quarry would be suddenly carrying a load of tea. At least not in the quantity suggested, and certainly not as a labeled commodity instead of ship's stores."

His eyes drifted skyward as he spoke, letting the words carry themselves alone. "When its added up, however, it amounts to nearly twenty tons of tea each season over all of the various vessels. Now, they were received by different parties, almost none of which had any commercial history in the city that I could find, and disappeared almost as soon as they'd taken delivery. Very neat job, but you will be receiving a packet in a day or two of papers that will point you towards a number of bays in specific warehouses. Simply call it a tip from a concerned citizen, I suppose. I can't tell you exactly what you'll find, but I'm confident it won't be tea. It's not all of it. I haven't been able to track a good portion of the shipments past the delivery point yet."

For a moment, his eyes fell back to Warren to see how he was taking this so far. And if he had any more pointed questions, which was almost certain. Then, perhaps he could get on to what else he'd found when it came to Whitby's tea, and those letters.

Once they had settled in a spot in the woods, the much taller of the two men sat down along the jutting branch of a tree, something that it seemed he might have done before. He made himself comfortable, and while he did at some point avert his eyes to keep track of the puppy that had been following them, he was otherwise very intense while he spoke. If it hadn't been clear to Warren during their initial meeting, it was clear to him now: Thomas Skerrick was a man who knew what he was doing, and took his work very seriously. Perhaps the combination of Skerrick, the Towers woman, and Stormcrest being in the room had muddied his expectations for success, but the more the man told him about what he'd found, the more impressed Warren was.

He found a tree to lean against as he listened, reaching up to scratch as the stubble on his chin. His eyes moved back and forth, focusing not on Thomas but on trees, leaves, bushes. Not focused on any one thing as he thought the implications through. When the man was done, Warren was silent for a while. He wasn't much of a quick thinker when it came to these kinds of things. He liked to sit down with it all in front of him and take his time to draw his conclusions, but one thing seemed clear.

"Can I assume that you have come to the conclusion that this is all being run by one person or a single group of people? I know you said that the shipments were received by different parties, but there's no way that many different groups of criminals would carry out their business in the exact same manner. At the very least, the manifests items covering the drugs would be different. One uses tea, one uses textiles, one uses ore...for them all to use tea, and all to disappear in exactly the same way indicates that it's all being organized by one person. And for that much to have passed through without incident, whoever it is, they run a tight ship."

There was a reason that Thom Skerrick did most of his business in the office. It eliminated distractions, and when matters needed to be thought through, distractions were a hindrance that had to be minimized as much as possible. Since Woodwick had come to him, however, this was a close second. There were distractions in the woods, but one could also find a certain clarity in the natural whispers of the breeze through the branches. Most importantly, however, no one else was around to present their own opinions and interrupt individual lines of thought. So he was more than willing to give the lieutenant the silence to think.

"In my opinion, which is still just hypothesis, I would choose to think that this is being organized by a group. A single individual would have significant issue making so many moves without revealing themselves. As for the 'tea', if you wish to call it that... It is a significant amount when looked at as a whole, but when compared to the quantity of actual tea and spices that actually route through Skia's docks, it would comprise less than four percent of a season's throughput. I'll keep my eyes on the manifests, of course, and if any additional cargo leaps out at me, I'll send a messenger, since I assume you'll want to have some forces intercept one of these curious shipments." Thom paused for another moment, giving a soft whistle to bring Artos back from the edge of the grove.

"As for the letters, I included a more complete transcription of my best decryption in the package to your office, but the gist of what I received is that the killer was originally intended only to keep an eye on Long. Long is, in fact, referred to in the earlier letter as 'our mutual friend', which leads one to believe that he was as tied up in whatever was going on as Whitby. You mentioned, on your first visit, that Long's work was 'sloppy', which could be a reason why someone was assigned to keep a close eye on him. Now, what I have to say next is a bit more sensitive. Some time before you apprehended Whitby, a woman died in the slums. Considering the situation in which she lived, very few questions were asked, but after a few conversations, I believe her cause of death can be considered to be a result of a faulty potion, one that she likely intended to cut short an unintended pregnancy. I cannot say for certain that she was at all involved with Long or his 'business', but I was able to get several statements that place a woman matching her rough description in the area around the Yarrowleaf Inn in the days leading up to your arrival there."

Taking a breath, Thom let his eyes come back to the lieutenant. There was still time to think, but once started, it did seem easier to just get it all out of the way in one go. "A later letter did indeed inform Whitby that Long had become a liability, but also that he could not simply kill the man and disappear, as the 'Amber Lotus', whoever or whatever that is, desired to understand how close the local law enforcement was to their business, and requested that Whitby remain to see the response."

Once more, Warren waited for Thom to give him as much of the information as he could before mulling it over with a nod. It was a lot of information, and while it didn't point at any one individual or known group, there was plenty of new information to work with. Suspicious shipments of tea, which was more likely to be some kind of drugs or illicit potion ingredients. The fact that Whitby was likely working for the same person Long had been working for. The name 'the amber lotus' was entirely new to him. The dead woman.

But the last bit of information was the most surprising. He didn't want to show the irritation that was welling up in his chest. Frustration, anger. "In other words, they knew someone was looking into their business and used Whitby as the sacrificial lamb to find out who. We didn't make any effort to conceal our identities. I didn't think it necessary. So it's likely they got their answers." That was disconcerting at the very least. Warren might not be the most notable of public figures, but his family was well-known enough. They were an older family with long-standing military service; his mother attended all of the social events for the sake of humanitarian work, and his sisters had married somewhat higher nobility. He had multiple nieces and nephews, all of which whom could easily be targeted. He'd put all of them in danger.

"You're a very thorough man, Mr. Skerrick. I appreciate your work. I'll be able to sort it all out a little better once I have it in front of me, but you've done a lot of the work for me. That being said..." he glanced back down at the dog, then squatted down and ushered the pup over with a whistle. Assuming it came to him, he'd reach out and scratch the dog behind the ears and under the chin. "I don't know what your connection is with Mr. Stormcrest. It seemed you and Ms. Towers were very familiar with him. He's a good soldier and can take care of himself."

He looked back up. "I'm assuming you're very used to covering your tracks and finding this kind of information without letting it point to yourself, but if they saw me at the Inn that day, they saw Mr. Stormcrest to. If he spends any amount of time here, the two of you could be targeted if we continue to look into this further. I recognize you're smart enough to put that together for yourself, but I'd like to cover my bases by warning you." Once the dog had gotten ample scratches, Warren stood back up. "I'm not sure where I'll go from here. I'll have to consider my options. I still have Whitby in custody. Now that I know what was written in the letters, I at least have some leverage over him."

It was probably best not to bring the young solider along anymore. It wasn't exactly his job, but it also wasn't smart to deal with these kinds of things without backup and Stormcrest was already involved to some degree. "Was there anything else I should know?"

If Warren hadn't taken the hint, Thom might have pressed a little further, but as expected, the lieutenant was quick on the draw. It was clearly a source of frustration, but Thom wasn't there to judge, simply to pass along the information he'd gathered. But it was also indicative of the difference in process between them, that Warren would not have really considered that as a reason for Whitby's continued presence after the murder. And in seasons past, it would have been much more of a surprise. It also spoke volumes as to the sheer strength of the individual or group behind of it, if Whitby was willing to be taken in rather than simply disappearing into the streets of Skia.

So he sat there, and allowed Woodwick to piece all of this together, just the ghost of a smile flickering over his lips as Artos gamboled over for additional scratches. "Clearly, our young Mr. Stormcrest talks as little about his life outside of work as he does his life within it. I'm not entirely certainly how, but he met Ms. Towers first, and she introduced him to me shortly after. Now, he comes over every so often to walk the dog. Or for dinner. Anything beyond that really isn't my tale to tell, but it's enough to let you know that I share the same concerns when it comes to his safety, or certain entities that may be interested in seeking him out. So I've made certain... arrangements, though they're best left undiscussed for the time being, along with the hope that they remain unnecessary."

A snap of the fingers, and Artos trotted back over to curl up at his feet, as Thom took another breath. "If you are planning on interrogating Whitby further, I included full transcriptions of the decrypted letters in the report. Lady Aveline should have it for you when you return. You'll also find a list of names, times, and locations of people who might have some further information on goings on. They may be young, but I can assure you, some of the urchin street 'gangs' know more about what's happening in Skia than the King's hand herself. They're a lot closer to it, after all, and they have more to lose if someone starts taking more control. There are a lot of factions that have been held in a tenuous balance for a long time, and few of them want to see that balance upset, so they're more than willing to talk to individuals like you... just this once."

Yes, of course the man before him had already thought of that. That he had also already implemented counter measures to make sure he, Stormcrest, and Ms. Towers were safe was not a surprise, but it did serve to further impress the lieutenant. Warren had never been labeled some great thinker. He was a soldier, first and foremost, one who did much more training his body than training his mind and while he could manage to connect the dots laid out in clear patterns in front of him, he was glad to leave the brunt of the thinking work to men like Thomas Skerrick. Everyone had their strengths, he just felt lucky to have found someone who was both trustworthy and, at least it seemed, on the upper side of morality.

"I, too, hope such measures will be unnecessary. Despite whatever payment you may ask for, I am in your debt. I'm sure many others would have turned my request for aid down given the information you've brought me. Should you ever need aid from me, I will give it." It was only fair. While he couldn't be much of a source of information for the man, he could at least provide his own physical strength should it ever be needed.

More information. More people to speak with. People that weren't normally willing to talk. Which meant he had to get to them quickly, before they decided they'd rather not put themselves in danger against this new powerhouse taking over Nevermere's criminal underground. That thought was weighty. He had to hurry anyway. By the end of Hiems he would be shipped off to Zulu Carr and whatever was left of this investigation would likely remain that way: left. Which may be better for some people, but what of the victims of their crimes?

"I see. I will make haste in seeking them out, then." Hooking his thumbs in his pockets and shifting his weight to his left hip, he looked to the taller man. "You've given me more than I could have hoped for and certainly more than I expected. I truly hope I can make something of it in the next two seasons." His eyes moved around the canopy of trees above them, studying the area somewhat. It was nice. He had a bit of land behind his manor, but it was cleared. He would have liked to have some trees, but it wasn't like he spent much time there anyway. "Shall we settle the matter of your payment and return, then?"

It remained unsaid that Thom would go to many lengths to ensure Temperance's safety, and if Berengar's situation threatened that, then the entirety of his attention would turn towards whatever was happening. Warren's offer of aid was welcome, at least, and it meant he could add another name to his roster of potential favors to be called in. While it was available, at the very least. And there was always the possibility that none of it would be necessary at all. If he was any judge of people, and... well, he was, whoever was behind all of this was still gathering their own information, solidifying their base, taking stock of what they had and what still stood against their plans, whatever those were.

But, inevitably, the conversation, such as it was, turned to a familiar topic. Payment. And that was something he had to consider carefully. With the offer of future aid, he could apply the standard 'informant' discount, but then there was the fact that these people were clearly quite dangerous, and that was a consideration that typically raised the number somewhat. Part if the deal was the guarantee of a certain amount of subtlety, and Thom was fairly confident that his name was not known to these 'amber lotus', whoever they happened to be. "I suppose we shall" he agreed after a lingering moment, pulling a small ledger from the bag that hung from his shoulder, and flipping open to a page. "Standard hourly wage, plus a small percentage for hazardous working conditions. I'll take some off for the matters that didn't involve the teas and letters specifically, since that was the only thing you actually asked for, and professional curiosity did have a hand in a good deal of what I managed to learn..."

He frowned momentarily, tapping the piece of paper. "I can't charge you for what others might say, but I can include a small introduction fee, but I think I'll waive that this time, since I can't exactly guarantee their usefulness in this matter, regardless of my suspicions. As it stands, the total amounts to this." Neatly, he tore the page out from his ledger and handed it over, rising to his feet as he did so in preparation for the walk back. "But you're free to debate any of the charges you see there, of course, or ask for my reasoning as to why they were included."

It seemed that Skerrick was man used to being haggled with. He knew the value of his work, and knew well the people he worked with. If he had worked with nobility before, he was probably accustomed to them trying to nickle and dime him. Many of them were greedy people, and Warren couldn't deny that there was a time when he had been the same way. But great loss had a way of making money the least important thing in the world. What good was it when you had no one to spend it on, or leave it to?

Helping closing the distance between them, he reached out and took the sheet. "Thorough, indeed," he commented, more to himself than not, as he looked over each charge and then back up to the man before him. It was no small amount, all things considered, but it seemed small considering the danger the man was putting himself in by digging into all of this. "No, I disapprove of nothing stated here. This is more than reasonable." He said, folding the parchment up and tucking it into one of his inner jacket pockets. Then he pulled a coin purse out of another inner jacket, opened it, and plucked out a small handful of coins which he returned to his pocket. Then he tied the bag back up and offered it to Thomas. It should contain the exact amount requested.

"I may want to reach back out to you for clarification, or further inquiries, once I've sorted through everything you've sent me and spoken with the people you've suggested. However, if you would prefer I not given what you found out, I fully understand. If I were a civilian I might like to wipe my hands clean of this, but something tells me that, like me, you're equally as unable to leave such mysteries alone." He sighed, turning to head back in the direction that they had taken to get there, boots finding the path through the woods back toward the cottage.

"Either way, I would be happy to let you know if I receive any helpful information from the people listed and if I have, you may charge me for that. I certainly wouldn't have found them without your help, it's only fair you're compensated for it." He looked downward, eyes caught by the large pup once more. "May I ask, where you found such a dog? He seems very well trained. I'm partial to dogs myself, but I'm not certain I'd have the time to train one."

Of course, the prices were negotiable, but since Thom had already agreed to service before payment at the outset, he wouldn't have much of a leg to stand on if Warren had decided that the price wasn't worth it. But, then again, that was where a near lifetime's experience worth of reading people came into its own. So he didn't have any reason to show much surprise when coins were counted and a purse was handed over, his palm weighing it for a moment before it disappeared into his sleeve with a decorative flourish of fingers. If Woodwick did want to find him again, there were ways, of course, but...

"I'd be glad to help again, in the future, but I might have to add a few stipulations to that offer." He was stepping back across the clearing now, pausing as his feet stepped once more upon the faint path. "First, and understandably so, I hope, I would prefer to conduct future business at my office, rather than operating out of Ms. Towers' residence as I have been recently. Since young Mr. Stormcrest also spends a not insignificant amount of time there, I feel that you too can understand where I'm coming from with this request. I'll relate certain avenues of contacting me to Lady Aveline, if you wish to set up an appointment in the future, but I'm certain that you'll be quite busy yourself with the impending relocation."

For a moment, his attention was distracted by the reference to the growing pup at his feed, who had settled down at his heels as he paused. "Artos? I was returning from the docks one day with my lunch and found him in an alley. He had been living in a broken shipping crate, I believe, scrounging scraps from the fish market. Gave him a sandwich and he followed me home, and... well, that's where he's been ever since, really. I'm not sure if he's a purebred or some manner of mixed breeding, but his appetite seems to be growing almost as quickly as he his, and the breeder I spoke to indicated that he's probably not even half done growing yet. As for training, well, a good portion of my work is sitting at a desk or taking walks around the city, and both of those provide ample opportunity for distracting myself with teaching him things. He does seem to learn surprisingly quickly though, it's true. Not quite as governed by his nose as other dogs I've met, either. Sometimes I feel like half the reason Berengar comes around so often is to volunteer to take him for walks..."

"Yes, of course, I do understand," Warren agreed. He wasn't exactly sure why the man had not been working out of his office and was, instead, in the cottage by the woods. But it hadn't really been his business, and he wasn't one to pry. There was likely a perfectly good reason for his needing to be there (for general example, a crazed addict who wanted to marry the woman he was courting, possibly?), but switching back to the office felt more comfortable for Warren anyway. "I do hope I can settle as much of this as I can before I leave, but I may need to leave it in someone else's hands. If I do, I'll be sure to update you. I don't want it left to fester, but my attentions will be suitably distracted while I'm across the mountains."

Leaving things unfinished was not Warren Woodwick's way, but there was little he could do. By the end of Hiems he would be in Coheed and if this wasn't done by then, he'd have to find someone he could trust to continue to follow the leads. The only person who currently knew about it was Stormcrest, but he was still just a boy.

Back on the path, talking about the dog seemed like a good way to pull his mind temporarily away from death and destruction. Lately it was all he could think of, but he needed a distraction from time to time. If he thought he could keep the animal in the military wing, he'd probably give in and get one for himself. But it didn't seem fair to keep such an energetic being cooped up all the time. "I've heard breeders state that each dog has a personality of their own. Some lend themselves to training, some the opposite. I suppose you were lucky enough to have the former follow you home."

As they approached the little cottage again, making their way through the back gate and toward the front one, Warren turned once more to address Thomas. "Speaking of Mr. Stormcrest," he held his hands behind his back. "I may bring him along when I interrogate Whitby, though it may be some time before I do that. At the moment, he's the only person I trust with this information, so if you wish to speak of the topic with him, I would take no issue with that. As long as he knows not to speak of it to others. The same warning we've given one another should be extended to him, of course. If they have their eyes on me, they would likely have their eyes on him as well. I expect he can handle himself, but it does make it easier to know what to look for. He has street smarts, I presume he'll know how to keep an eye out for such a thing."

He looked down once more at the dog, it's little tongue sticking out as it panted, before offering Thomas a handshake. "Thank you again for your work, Mr. Skerrick. Good day." A quick and prompt goodbye and a nod of his head, and he was turning on his boot, careful to stick to the path, as he exited through the front gate and closed it behind him.