DeShelle suppressed a sigh. Ever since she’d left the scholam, her life seemed to have consisted of being condescended to by large men with guns. She wasn’t entirely certain that was ever going to change, no matter how high she might rise.

‘So let’s not try to think like Navigators,’ she said. ‘We work on the basis that someone attacked him. If we assume that whoever did that wasn’t a Navigator, it means they were probably human.’ She looked up at Luc. ‘If you’re a human who wants to attack someone very conspicuous, moving around on foot, how do you do it?’

‘It depends on my motivations,’ Luc replied immediately. ‘If my intention is to kidnap, I balance ease of access to the victim with the possibility of being seen, and my ability to get them either to where I intend to hold them, or a vehicle with which I can transport them to where I intend to hold them. If I’m killing to send a message about my own impunity, or I intend it to be a warning to others, then I do it openly, in front of witnesses. If my intention is to kill and avoid notice, then my primary concern is for the victim to be isolated when I attack. If my intention is to kill and to avoid the body being found, then the victim needs to be alone when I attack and I need easy access to a method of disposing of the body.’

DeShelle looked at him for a moment. ‘And of course, the level of thought that you’ve given this has been solely to protect House Brobantis from the attentions of others.’

Luc just snorted.

‘Well, he hasn’t been attacked openly, we can say that with reasonable certainty,’ DeShelle mused, studying the map. ‘We think he was last seen here, here and here,’ she drew her finger across it, ‘and although we can’t be sure of the times of each sighting, it seems reasonable that he was moving in this direction.’ A bar where the patrons knew him, and didn’t care he was a Navigator; a massage parlour with optional extras available for purchase, or DeShelle was a High Lord of Terra; and an emporium where Avomarr apparently liked to shop for antiques and curios, the stranger the better. There had been at least two objects on sale that DeShelle had been reasonably certain were xenos in origin, although the proprietor hadn’t advertised them as such, and may well have not been aware of their true nature. Not that that would do him any good should someone with proper knowledge come calling.