Ithi'Ka slides her gaze from the dead man's face up to meet Lady Nightshade's gaze.  She scrutinizes the woman's expressions, then lifts the scrap of black lace.  It is invisible against her leather armor before she twists her hand, flourishes it free.  The scrap of black fabric rests in her gray palm.<br/><br/>Her mind works at the puzzle like a persistent bird, pecking at angles, testing eaves for entrance, as she waits for Lady Nightshade's response.  She holds her tongue about the cause, lets the Madame make her own conclusions for now... is it a message of personal import, or a memento... perhaps offering a key to motive?  Was it an intentional distraction, to throw them off course?  Or is it a breadcrumb to lead them into waiting jaws?<br/><br/>"It is familiar somehow?" she asks softly, allowing Nightshade the moment to study the tatted scrap.