I got my lips pursed kissing the mascarons

Haven had access to the area because repair parts for the factory often arrived on the smaller ships that were legally operated. He entered the Free Trade Zone through the workers gate and headed towards the Old Navy Warehouses that sat next to Pier #9. The buildings were ancient and made from great blocks of stone that made external surveillance impossible.

A freezing fog hung over the waterside, creating glittering halos around each lamplight. The tide was high and thus the area was bustling. Even so he quickly spotted ibn Salim, Christoff's chief mate. The man, ever alert, spied Haven at the same time.

"Safety! I almost didn't recognize you without your usual grease!" The tall and slender man exclaimed. His long beard was decorated with frost but his dark eyes were warm and welcoming. "You look well, my friend!"

"As do you." Haven said as they quickly embraced. "The sea has been kind and the navy still blind, hey?"

"They've given up trying to see us since they can't catch us!" ibn Salim said as he stepped back. "They just pretend we aren't there at all now! So, looking for the boss then? Business?"

"In a way. I have some questions." Haven said as he pulled his hat lower over his ears. "Not about something precisely. There's a thing I'm looking into and I'm trying to get a notion of what kind of man I may be dealing with."

"How dark, lad?"

"Very. Women are being taken. All signs say killed. The government of course won't say that. Or admit it could be happening."

"A killer of women? And you're wanting to find this man?"

"I intend to. Yes."

"And if you do? What then?"

"I'll do what the government won't and stop this man. Whatever that takes."

"Let's go see the boss."

.

"Haven, you're smart and tough but you're talking about finding someone who, if you're right, kills for pleasure. Meaning no other life but his means a thing to him. That includes yours, my friend."

Haven nodded his agreement but said nothing. He had no idea how he was going to do this thing but he had chosen the path. The others in the room were hard men who understood how violence worked. There was Christoff, elegant in his all black suit that truly set off his almost white blonde hair. ibn Salim looking grim and clearly on Haven's side here. Then there was Pruitt, Vinezzi, and Holmbrau, each of whom skippered one of Christoff's coastal runners. In their business they dealt with pirates, slavers, and buccaneers looking to prey on small smugglers. They were all here and alive and so they clearly knew their business and knew it well.

"My friend, you work sixty hours a week. How do you intend to find the time to hunt this beast?" Christoff asked as his fingers checked the waxed ends of his carefully curled mustache. "You have far better things to do with your free time! Especially if you're still with Ursula!"

"I work days. The killer works nights. He so far has hunted solely in Goldenrod Hill. That's a fifteen minute bus ride from my home. Less if I go directly from work. Christoff, this madman took seven victims in the first eight months but has taken four in the last three weeks! Clearly he isn't the least bit concerned with being caught!"

"Haven. Friend of mine. Have you ever gone hunting? Deer? Boar? Rabbits even?"

"Of course not! I've lived my entire life here in Sacred Throne. I know nothing about guns. This is different though."

"Indeed it is. Deer don't hunt you back. These shadowy figures you've mentioned being reported? They are a product of fear. People seeing a danger where it isn't. This man you seek isn't obvious. And it's but one. A gang would have been talking by now. Nor have showed any initial restraint. So it's just one man. He surely knows how to fit in. To appear unimportant while watching, stalking and sizing up his prey. Most murders are personal. Motivated by passion, anger, perceived slights. A normal criminal might kill for money or to protect their business. This isn't like that."

"In Bierceny, over in Weiselandia, a few years back they had a man butchering women." Pruitt spoke up from behind a cloud of tobacco smoke. "All the women were similar in appearance. Someone saw the photographs of the victims and noted the striking similarity to the former wife of a prominent surgeon. Between that and the methods of killing they decided action was justified. They took the good doctor in. He committed suicide before he could be thoroughly questioned. He, however, left a note blaming the killings on the infidelity of his ex-wife."

"What's your point, Benjy?"

"It was sheer coincidence that led them to the doctor, Mosin. The man's motives made no sense out of context. So this killer here? He's got his reason. It might make no sense to anyone not party to his madness. So how do you even know what to begin looking for?"

"There! That's the starting point! That's it exactly! A position that seems unremarkable!" Holmbrau exclaimed and leaned forward over the table. "You've a man who can roam at night with no concern! Meaning he likely has no close family and perhaps not even employ! If he has money, from a respectable source, one that doesn't demand attention, he will draw little notice! He has the means to pursue his whims!"

"Not a high noble. They're constantly involved in machinations. Maybe a younger son of a disgraced house." Christoff said and cupped his chin in thought before continuing. "This is a person with low morals. Perhaps not blatantly, but the disregard for life isn't natural. This person is around often enough that none pay attention to his presence. He clearly behaves in a way that doesn't draw notice."

"He's certainly deeply perverted. He could prey on alley walkers in The Charnels and nobody would care. He doesn't want that. He wants 'proper' women." Vinezzi chimed in, his eyes nearly invisible beneath tremendously bushy eyebrows. "He's smart enough to steal the things that a lowborn burglar would. As a blind. But he takes the women with him. It's got to be sexual. He wants to be free to do whatever he wishes in a place where he won't be interrupted. He has a way to transport his victims and he can leave the district without drawing notice."

"A carter or drayman?"

"No. They're always subject to search. I wager it's not a personal vehicle. That runs the risk of being recognized. This killer has money. Legitimate money."

"He knows how to move. To be inconspicuous. He's also absolutely comfortable with violence. Not sure where he'd learn that. Maybe he wasn't, to begin with. But he likes it now. Maybe that's why he's picked up the pace."

"Definitely a loner. The more he kills the more odd his behavior will probably become. Anyone close would notice the change."

"I'd guess he's also comfortable enough dealing with officials. He has to be able to present himself, under at least light scrutiny, as a proper normal citizen. Say, Benjy, you say that doctor chap butchered his victims?"

"Aye. Cut to pieces."

"But it was personal to him. Hmm. Maybe this is someone with some skill, unlicensed skill mind you, with medicine. And a hatred of women. Perhaps an abortionist."

"Killing his clients? I've never met one of them but I can't imagine they have a particularly high regard for women."

"Excuse me, but why aren't you lot detectives?" Haven said when he finally got over the shock of hearing how quickly these smugglers had taken to incredibly perceptive analysis and interpretation. "By the Lords of the Lost you display an insight and intellect that I'm sure is sorely lacking in our erstwhile guardians!"

"Be a poguer? Bloody hell, no! Piss poor pay and the boot-licking bureaucrats always at your neck? No thank you." Vinezzi said as the others nodded agreement. "We aren't successful out of luck, lad. We know the enemy and we know how little they know."

"But the wise man always tries to stay three thoughts ahead of his foe." ibn Salim said and tugged at his beard. "Put yourself in another man's shoes and you can predict his steps."

"Rex, have Tinny bring us some sandwiches. Will you stay a while longer, Haven?" Christoff said as the others began taking actual notes. "You've brought us something truly worth thinking over."

"How could I leave?" Haven said and chuckled nervously. "You lot already seem to know more about my prey than I'd learn in a month on the streets."

"Can you get us photos of the victims?" Holmbrau asked without looking up. "I'd like to know what our man looks for in a woman."