"Part of what we need to know," Marco tells him tersely, ignoring the bag of flour. He's not about to volunteer to get white flour on his dark suit, thanks. "He's got ties to the Fury, he was down at the docks the night we didn't get their delivery."
He pulls a notepad from his jacket pocket, slips a pencil from the other side, and sketches, brief, but accurate. High cheekbones, a long, straight nose, long dark hair. "Him."