You take Salar by the arm and steer him out the door. "Where's the fire?"
"Did you know that there's a Midwinter celebration at the Palace tonight?"
"Of course I did," you say. The whole city knows that. It's a fine night for selling services and treats to the nobles who will be attending and the hangers-on who'll be loitering in the upper city hoping for a momentary encounter with someone important. "Is that your emergency?"
"I have to be there," Salar says. "I need to see the man who killed my mother for myself."