Being an adept in the service of an Arbitrator, Haxtes almost subconsciously picked up a lot of information about ongoing cases. Perhaps it was his natural talent for compiling information, a compulsive need to fill every hole in his mental database of knowledge. Either way, it made him very well suited for the profession which had been chosen for him. Cat mentioned the "Flaying Man" case, and he immediately recognised the name. It had garnered a lot of attention in the local pict casts, and he had heard other menial workers discussing it during breaks or on the way back to his hab. The fact that the killer had suddenly set his sights on someone in the upper echelons of society was certainly surprising, but he was not about to jump to any conclusions about the Investigator General.<br/><br/>The gaunt, wiry man lifted his head, revealing grey eyes from under the hood of his robe, the slightest hint of a smile draped across thin lips. "It will be done, Miss," he said, his voice quiet and reminiscient of tearing paper, so dry it seemed as if he hadn't had any moisture for days. His eyes swung in the direction of the two men who would accompany him. The Arbitrator would certainly prove handy in this sort of investigation, as this was where such troopers felt right at home. Haxtes was no fighter, only carrying an unwieldy pistol for personal defense, and the tanned, well-built man looked like he could be relied on to keep him in one piece if things took a turn for the worse.<br/><br/>The other man looked like he could be more of a wild card. His whole appearance just screamed 'sell sword'; Haxtes counted two visible weapons, and not the sort that the two guardsmen or the Arbites would use. The flak cloak also hinted at a person who expected to get in trouble, and the adept silently hoped that the dark-haired man wouldn't draw the wrong kind of attention to their investigation. He turned to face the two men fully, pulling his hood back fully to reveal short grey hair, as well as two service studs which had been inserted into his skull, signifying two decades of impeccable service to the bureaucratic workings of the Imperium of Man.<br/><br/>"Haxtes, archivist and copyist in the service of the Adeptus Arbites," he gave each of the men a reverent bow of his head, introducing himself, before he glanced sideways at the woman who had been his lead for half a year. So far, he had only done a few investigations on his own without her supervision, and within his wiry body, his heart was beating a little more rapidly. "Would you like us to get right to it, Miss?"