"Circles, squares, triangles..." Beckett trailed off as she considered her options before suddenly crouching down behind the table to reach into the bag she had hidden under the table skirt.
When she rose again, she had a carefully folded letter in her hand.
"Diederich's little attempt to ground himself in the community," she revealed, fanning the letter before holding it out if Varin was inclined to have a look. "It seems he's moving to London. House warming parties are dreadfully dull, but always a good place to meet future customers, yes?"
Or contacts. Whichever one preferred.
"Invitation only, a week from today, nine o'clock sharp. You may have mine."
Bowen would vouch for her if worst came to worst at the door.