The woman in the black coat smiled a little when Arinne confirmed her hypothesis, but otherwise kept quiet as the others each spoke their piece. Her eyes drifted slowly towards Paul, watching him as carefully as he watched everyone else.

As the conversation wore on, however, with late arrivals gradually showing up to interrupt, her patience seemed to wear thin. She closed her book, setting it down by her side, and leaned forwards, clearing her throat. "Is this everyone? Surely we're not missing any [i]more[/i], are we?" Her sharp gaze swept across the room, daring anyone to disagree. "Good. Then as the Lady commanded, let me share with you what I know so far."

"Kissinger here was kind enough to share with us the basics, but allow me to add a little context, here. Organ theft is hardly an uncommon practice— both magi and mundane humans have built up extensive black markets for that kind of goods. For the most part, though, they're professionals, careful to pick their targets and dispose of them properly." She spread her arms. "If a homeless man living on the streets, or some child from a developing country disappears one day, nobody notices, nobody cares. That's how they operate."

"But this case is different. These young women weren't easy targets, they were people with friends, people with families. They didn't disappear, they were [i]found[/i] after being killed. Whoever this killer is, they're doing a poor job of hiding their tracks. That means they're new, inexperienced, not a professional criminal but, as Mr. Kissinger put it, a rogue."

She held up one hand, two fingers and a thumb splayed out. "Thus, I predict one of three possible motives. One, they're psychotic, a madman or madwoman doing this for fun and sport. Much like the original Jack the Ripper." One finger curled inwards, leaving two digits raised. "Two, they're a would-be criminal, wanting to get into the organ-trafficking business but lacking the experience and connections to do so through the proper channels. A small-timer, pushed to despicable acts by their own foolish greed." Her thumb curled, leaving only her index finger pointing upwards. "Three... they're desperate. A person who needs organs to save themselves or a loved one, but lacks the financial means to acquire them on the black market. And so, they go after any matching targets they can find, heedless of the trail they're leaving behind them."

Her last finger curled, leaving only a fist, which she gently lowered to her lap. "The question that sticks out to me, though, is why the Lady Ar-Rynesarte should [i]care.[/i]" Her eyes fixed on those of the young family head. "This is hardly the first serial killer to haunt the streets of London. In time, they will be caught by the proper authorities. And, while awful, their activities are not a threat to the upper echelons of the Tower." Her head tilted to one side, one eyebrow arching upwards. "Is it a sudden bout of empathy that afflicts you, perchance? Or has something led you to believe that this case may be of more... [i]personal[/i] interest?"