At First Light(Dr. Evan Wilding #1)(103)

What of the sparrow in the poem? Did the sparrow refer to him? It seemed likely. So perhaps the words hawk will take sparrow meant that a hawk would guide his soul to another world after his death—very much in the Viking manner. At least, if it came to that, Ginny would not serve as his sacrificial guide—she was safely locked away in her mews.

He was surer still of the evil horde-guard mentioned in line seven—that was a kenning for a dragon, lifted straight out of Beowulf.

The pounding of feet disturbed his thoughts as a herd of students stampeded into the café, shedding cold air and filling the room with laughter. Tommy studied them while Evan returned to his musings.

The Viking Poet had also embedded Talfour’s name: No tall tale this, for he will be mine. Tall-for. Talfour.

Evan’s thoughts circled back to line seven of the poem: The evil horde-guard who shaped this shaper.

That is, the dragon who created the poet. He looked up.

“Tommy?”

The kid tore his eyes away from the students, who were now at the bar calling orders.

“Yeah?”

Dr. Valtos had told River of a child who died in an accident in America. “Can you look online for a mining company in the United States that uses a dragon as its logo?”

“Okay.” A few minutes later, he said, “There’s one. Epic Mining. They mine mostly gold.”

“Excellent. Please look for any death-related lawsuits that have been brought against the company. Either pending or settled. And . . .” He glanced down at the first line of Desser’s poem: This hoarder caused my fall with his fall, his fall caused by the fallen. “Look especially for any deaths related to falls.”

“Okay.” A moment of silence. “There’s, like, four or five lawsuits? The company was accused of negligence for not sealing up old mines or putting up good barriers. Dr. Wilding, there’s lots of ways to die in old mines. People get lost or crushed or fall or they asphyxiate. Maybe the last case against Epic was settled three years ago?”

That felt too long ago to have served as the killer’s final trigger. But it would have played a major role. “What can you find out about that last one?”

“Ummm.” Tommy used his thumb to scroll. “There’s a headline: ‘Five-year-old dies in gold mine.’”

A tingling started at the base of Evan’s skull and raced across his skin. Five years. Five victims. With four human-size wooden figures added to reach Odin’s sacred nine. “What does the article say? Is there a name? Or any details about what happened?”

“The headline’s all there is on this website. I can keep looking. But the Wi-Fi here is super slow.”

A motion at the entrance to the café caught Evan’s eye. It was one of the campus cops, a younger man than the one who had been in his office earlier. The man waved at him and tapped his watch.

“Good work, Tommy.” Evan folded up the sheets of paper. “We’ll look more later. We have to go. Call your mom while we’re walking, and let’s decide on a plan of action. May I keep these pages?”

“I made them for you,” Tommy said, standing.

At the door, the cop introduced himself as Frank Martin and said he’d been told to walk Evan to his car. “It’s getting nasty out there with the snow,” he said as he punched the elevator button. “Hope you don’t have far to go.”

Tommy was texting on his phone. “My mom asked if you would bring me home, Dr. Wilding.” He looked at Officer Martin. “Dr. Wilding is a person with dwarfism.”

The cop ducked his chin to try—unsuccessfully—to hide his smile. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Evan found he was smiling, too. “I can drive you,” he told Tommy. Even if it meant that by the time he made it home, Ginny would start by eating his eyeballs and move down from there. Taking Tommy home would give him a chance to talk to Mrs. Snow about her son’s concerns regarding David Hayne.

When they reached the first floor, Evan saw a uniformed patrol officer from Chicago PD standing just inside the front doors. Through the windows behind her, the flashing lights of a squad car pulsed on the street.

She stepped forward. “Dr. Wilding,” she said. “We meet again. Detective Bisset sent me to escort you home.”

“I know you,” he said.

“Yes, sir. Officer Osborn. We met at Wash Park. I’m mounted patrol, but we’ve got all hands on deck tonight with the storm and the manhunt.”

A shiver walked his spine. “And your partner. Officer Blakesley. Where is he?”

“He’s out sick, sir. And sorry to miss the show. Anyway, my orders are to follow you home and make sure you’re safely settled in. And I do appreciate the overtime, sir, if I can be honest.”

Evan wondered where Addie was right now. “They haven’t arrested anyone?”

She shook her head. “Not that we’ve heard.”

“I understand the desire for overtime,” he said to Officer Osborn. “But I have to get this young man home. You’re welcome to tag along, if you wish, then follow me back to the city.”

“Happy to do so, sir. It beats breaking up bar fights. I’m parked right outside. Do you want a ride to your car?”

Tommy gave an energetic nod.

“Sounds like we do,” Evan said.