Isaac looked away from the shopkeeper. Just then, Carlo strolled over to him. "Since you can't spot the problem with your eyes, try another approach."
Isaac turned his head and lowered his voice. "What do you mean?"
"Try talking to him," Carlo said. "Find a way to get something out of him. Ask if he's encountered anything unusual lately."
Isaac looked down at the suit he was still wearing. "Wouldn't it be a little abrupt to jump from buying clothes to asking about anything unusual?"
"Of course it would. That's why you need to bring the subject up naturally, without him taking you for a lunatic."
Isaac's mouth twitched. If a customer shopping for clothes suddenly asked whether anything strange had happened in the shop, wouldn't the shopkeeper have a hard time not growing wary?
Carlo clearly had no intention of stepping in himself. Standing to the side, he had already settled in to watch the show. Isaac suspected the guy was simply bored waiting here and had decided to find himself some entertainment.
He put the dark gray suit back on the long table and picked up a camel-colored coat to try on instead. The mirror was right beside the table, and he watched the shopkeeper in it as he adjusted his collar.
He had a few gray hairs and deep lines at the corners of his eyes, but his back wasn't hunched. He wore round, gold-wire glasses, and his hair was neatly combed and slicked with oil, gleaming under the light...
He spoke at a moderate pace, his voice on the low side, his words polite but not overly warm...
His movements were efficient, neither rushed nor sluggish. As he waited, he occasionally looked over. That restrained attention suggested he was accustomed to serving all kinds of customers and didn't readily show curiosity or annoyance...
Isaac formed a picture of the shopkeeper in his mind: a rather cautious, serious man, satisfied with his business, particular about rules, and guided by a business philosophy that was neither servile nor overbearing.
A man like that cared about rules, disliked trouble, and wouldn't go looking for it. He usually wouldn't get caught up in any unusual incidents, and if he did, it probably wouldn't be of his own free will.
Did he know there was something unusual in his shop? If he knew but had chosen to conceal it rather than report it, that meant he didn't want the matter to become public. Either it would affect his business, offend certain people, or... it involved someone he cared about.
And the shop was called "Harper and Sons Clothing and Hat Shop." Having "and Sons" in the name meant either that he had followed in his father's footsteps or that he hoped to carry on the business with his son.
If it was the former, the shop had been around for at least a few decades, with plenty of regulars and a reputation to uphold. If it was the latter, the family business was to be passed down, and he valued the shop's reputation more than his life.
Either way, a blunt question about unusual incidents would make him wary and bring scandals, bad luck, and harm to his business to mind. Isaac needed a pretext.
Isaac gathered his thoughts, took off the camel-colored coat, and draped it over his arm before walking to the counter.
The shopkeeper heard his footsteps and looked up. "Sir, were none of those to your liking?"
"The clothes are all nice. I'm still deciding," Isaac said. "May I ask, Mr. Harper, in your experience, what style would suit me best?"
Hearing the question, the shopkeeper studied him carefully. "Different clothes suit different purposes. Are you attending a banquet, going to work, or dressing for some other occasion?"
"For work. I'll probably be out and about a lot, meeting all kinds of people." Isaac chose his words carefully. "Sometimes I'll need to attend respectable events, and other times I'll have to be... a man who can get things done. Dressing too formally might make me stand out, and a style that's too restrictive wouldn't be suitable either."
The shopkeeper pushed up his glasses. "You need something that looks respectable at first glance, and practical at second glance."
Isaac nodded. The shopkeeper really was experienced; he had summed up his needs at once.
"Then we should rule out morning coats and tailcoats. They're restrictive and make it difficult to move." The shopkeeper turned toward the shelves, apparently putting an outfit together in his mind.
After a moment's consideration, he pulled out a coat and spread it across the counter. "Sir, you might consider this style: a gentleman's hunting coat. It isn't particularly fashionable, but you can't go wrong wearing it out. It's a safe choice."
"A gentleman's hunting coat?" Isaac had never heard it called that.
"It's a style some nobles wear when they go hunting. It's adapted from formalwear to allow freedom of movement without sacrificing a respectable appearance," the shopkeeper explained. "For the occasions you mentioned, where you need both respectability and practicality, this style should be suitable."
Isaac wondered what Vista's nobles hunted when they went out: variant species released into enclosed hunting grounds?
He didn't ask. He looked at the coat. It was dark brown, with a slightly looser cut than an ordinary suit jacket. The fabric looked thick and hard-wearing, with a subtle texture.
"The waist is tapered but not too tight, and there are concealed fasteners at the cuffs. The fabric is a medium-weight worsted wool: finer than tweed, more durable than dress cloth, and resistant to wrinkles. It breathes in summer, and in winter you can get by with an overcoat," the shopkeeper explained.
He shook out the coat and held the sleeves open for Isaac. Isaac wasn't used to having someone help him dress and had to look a few times before he was sure where to stand.
He slipped his arms into the sleeves, adjusted the shoulders, and fastened the middle button. He went to the mirror and turned this way and that. When he raised his arms, turned, or bent over, he felt no noticeable pulling.
The coat wasn't particularly close-fitting, since it hadn't been tailored for him, but on his build, it looked quite the part.
"The sleeves are the right length, and the shoulders are just right." The shopkeeper went around behind him and tugged at the back hem. "The waist needs to be taken in a little. If you like it, I can alter it for you. It'll be ready to collect tomorrow."
Finally, Isaac thought. A good chance to bring it up.
He adjusted his collar. "That's wonderful. I thought I'd have to find someone else to alter ready-made clothes like these. Since you can do it here, that saves me a lot of trouble."
The shopkeeper went to the counter and made a few notes in his ledger. "As long as the alterations aren't extensive, we can do them free of charge. That's a longstanding practice here. After all, ready-made clothes aren't the same as bespoke ones. Not every piece can fit perfectly, so minor adjustments are common. If you like this one, I can alter it tonight. You can collect it first thing tomorrow morning."
"Sorry for the trouble, then." Isaac took off the coat and laid it on the counter. "With service as thoughtful as yours, you must have quite a few regular customers."
A faint smile appeared on the shopkeeper's face. "Naturally. This shop has been open for thirty years, ever since my father's generation. Among the longtime residents of the neighboring streets, anyone who wears clothes has been here at least once."
Isaac nodded and looked around the shop. Deliberately letting a hint of regret show on his face, he sighed softly. "I see..."