Nicodemus

Nicodemus steeples his fingers together, and exhales slowly. Once he is sure that he is calm, cool, and collected, he nods his thanks to the policeman. Then, his shadow rises up behind the cop, envelops the man in its freezing embrace until only his face peers out, and the man is risen several inches into the air. At his throat lies a silver dagger. In the exact same, polite tone he used before, Nicodemus repeats himself.

"Excuse me, my dear boy, but could you direct me to Herr Wallenquist?"