With her cup in hand, Fitcher neatly untucks one of the narrow chairs from the table and settles down into it. It's a patient thing - roighly as concerned with the lay of her skirts and the drink as she is with him peering down into the trunk's contents.

"The packet with the blue cord is from one of Riftwatch's donors - a gentleman who's fairly convinced he knows who killed Grand Cleric Agathe. I'm entertaining him as a favor to Byerly. The rest are from a friends in Antiva, Ostwick, and so on. I've a fine friend in Rialto who's sent the best of my silks. That red kerchief in the top tray, for example."

A sip from her cup. A quirked eyebrow—

"There's a ledger in the bottom on the left hand side. But if you're looking for something pointy, try between the coat and the skirts."