Lyra's vision flashed back to normal, as she looked at the... butler... [b]the BUTLER?[/b] [i]Really? We're going from ThyesenKrüpp to a sodding [b]Butler?[/b][/i] She was a bit confused, to say the least. Still, his demeanor suggested imminent threat. Maybe ThysenKrüpp [b]was[/b] tied up in all of this. In any case, the old bastard was offering a chance to escape whatever shit she'd gotten herself into, so she didn't really have much choice but to cooperate.

"Calm down, Quacky," she said quietly, "if this finely-dressed gentleman wanted to kill us, I'm sure he would have by now." 

"Especially," she added, almost under her breath, "if that [b]was[/b] a ThysenKrüpp gun I heard before we were out."

She turned to the butler. "In any case, I can assure you we didn't kill your 'Hemingway.' I may not like ThysenKrüpp or its various Dev-District lackeys, but I'd like to think I'm [b]FAR[/b] too smart to knife one of their guys in the open, then drag him into a seedy bar while I have a drink. Don't think anyone but a Teether would be insane enough to pull that."