That's what I like to hear. Peanuts are a better business. Less likely to have you executed.

[It's a murmur, a secondary focus of his attention as he shifts his sight from the mundane, everything going grey as his Eagle Vision takes over. Guards are highlighted in red patrolling through rows of barrels, and yes, there are more stationed on the doors on the ground floor. But what he's looking for is an office. He can see it, outlined in gold. Any documents, any proof, will be there.]

Doors are guarded. Opening one will have the guards on us straight away. Best to be up here- they don't expect people coming in from the roof.

[And as for "acrobatics", it's not that showy. He nods towards the crane and goes up to it, bringing back the length of rope that had previously dangled over the edge. He wraps it around his waist, after all, if this goes wrong, he'd rather it not be tied to her.]

All aboard please, first stop Entryhatchton. Next stop: Office-on-Thames.