Once she was gone, he rolled his eyes. Crude? Pot, kettle, but he only walked toward the door, affixing his mask again and pointing his wand to the sky. Inviting her had done its job, hopefully. The more he ingratiated himself with the Dark Lord's inner circle the more likely it would be he would become a part of it.
"Morsmordre," he said, watching as the green skull appeared over the house. It probably wasn't entirely necessary to leave a calling card anymore, but it would serve to keep the public in line for a few more of their changes down the line. Best they knew ahead of time to what end troublemakers came.
He Disapparated as he heard some sort of high pitched noise approaching. Probably one of those Muggle peace men. Good thing he wasn't an Obliviator or else he'd be in for a busy night.