At midnight, heavy fog rolled in from the gulf, and completely shrouded a Texas seaport town. It muffled the creaking rasp of a tramp steamer that had tied up at the wooden dock a few moments before and blotted the ship from view. Consequently, the indistinct figure of a man walking uncertainly down the ship's gang plank seemed to materialize out of nowhere. He hesitated for a moment as he reached the dock, while his body was shaken by a dry, hacking cough. Then he hurried toward a dimly lit waterfront cafe. Once inside, he asked if anyone knew where he could find Loop Sutter.