Sarah Silverton's arrival is clear from the smattering of polite applause and a few gasps. She's changed into a glittery black dress as old fashioned as she is, and walks in holding a cat that incidental conversation with an attendant reveals is named Lunar. Of course a few eager people surge forward to greet her, and she's polite. Anyone who has done the same thing will recognise her style of speaking to people, the calculated non-answers and non-questions which let people believe what they will and decide what they will.

She knows who is on her guest list, of course, and has made sure she knows what they look like too.

When she can.

Some people don't come up, or when they do they come up suspiciously. It's for that reason that she approaches Faolan, who is signed up as Dubhan. Dubhan O'Neill is dead, and that means this person might be a private investigator here to get a story to sell. So either she needs to scare him enough he might write a good story or unveil his fraud and thus make a good story for herself.

She approaches casually, the cat cradled in her arms like a baby. Everything about her is old fashioned elegance, pearls around her neck and twinkling diamond earrings -- perfectly manicured long, red nails and neat lipstick.

"I've been curious about you," she opens with, "so many shadows surround you, Mr O'Neill, you have an air of mystery. I wonder at the truth of you. Did you enjoy the show?"