The Whore, the Mortician and the Corpse

[Myron Fernsby]

"Yes, well," Myron's lips turned up in a sudden, grim smile. It looked ever so slightly nefarious on his face, as if he were planning something vile and was trying to be discreet about it. "There have been numerous small purchases made on the behalf of one 'Tristan' -- an alias, no doubt, and I have not bothered asking around, as it would no doubt be even more suspicious again -- which I didn't connect at first, but now I believe I have him. Whether it is him who is making the purchases or a dupe, I confess to not knowing. The name came from one of the smaller smithies, and there is an established pattern. . ."

Myron brought forth the food-stained papers, pointing to regular deductive amounts. "I had to, ahem, purchase copies of receipts from the apprentices of the shops; I've all but one. It is possible this is unrelated, but it is something new to track down. Either the man goes himself or has an accomplice. Perhaps that's something your friends could clear up for us?"