Sol looks his friend over, trying to decide if he looks more tired, frustrated, or flat out determined. Theo is perpetually put-together, almost never looks ruffled, and so Sol finds himself squinting, trying to glean a little something more. It's fairly inconclusive, and Sol muses over his cigarette that that's quite a talent. The straw he chews is ever-present, and not much of a hint.
Sol has a very healthy respect and admiration for the law, but if he had to always do things their slow and steady way, he's sure he'd open up the window and jump.
"I went up to records," he says, ashing into a mug with a crabbing vessel on the side, emblazoned with the name Loretta Elizabeth. His brows lift, full of intrigue over the information he's about to impart. "There's not a single file left with Marcantonio's name on it. I asked Jessie if anybody came requesting anything, or if she's seen anybody skulking around, but nothing." He punctuates the word with a slice of his left hand through the air, while smoke curls from his right. "She locks the door at night, but god knows this psycho doesn't seem to have a problem walking through walls..."