At First Light(Dr. Evan Wilding #1)(26)

He turned his attention to the animals. Fifty or more cages filled an array of metal shelves, the glass or steel pens crowded with snakes, lizards, mice, and a snakelike beast that Evan was pretty sure was an enormous millipede. Creatures hissed or skittered or—in a large aquarium on the far side of the room—splashed.

The pools of light came from task lamps mounted on the underside of the cabinets. In their muted glow, Evan saw that each cage was labeled with the animal’s scientific name and a date—possibly the time of acquisition. Another piece of paper the size of an index card was clipped to each cage and listed additional information handwritten in incredibly small, neat print—writing that suggested an organized mind with a great deal to say.

The only decoration came from a single poster attached to the drywall: a drawing of a man in a powdered wig. Beneath the man’s ruddy visage were the words CAROLUS LINNAEUS—FATHER OF TAXONOMY.

Tommy Snow was an amateur naturalist.

The young man himself worked diligently with his back to them, hunched over something on an aluminum tray. The air reeked of formaldehyde. Silver dissecting pins glittered on the counter, and streaks of something unidentifiable spattered a nearby sink.

“Tommy,” said his mother.

The boy’s thin shoulders shifted, but he didn’t look up.

“These people are from the Chicago police. You’re not in trouble. But they want to ask you a few questions.”

“I’m very busy,” Tommy said.

“Remember what we talked about,” Mrs. Snow said. “Priorities. One, two, and three. Right now, Detectives Bisset and Wilding are priority number one. After you answer their questions about that time you were on Mr. Wharton’s property, they’ll leave, and you can go on to priority number two.”

“My rat.”

“Yes. The rat.”

Next to Evan, Addie shuddered. He threw a glance in her direction. Was it his imagination, or did she look pale?

“But I just started on the esophagus. Dr. Almadi said we had to be finished with the alimentary canal by Friday.”

“Ten minutes, Mr. Snow,” Addie said. “That’s all we need.”

“Tommy—” his mother began.

Evan cleared his throat. “Tommy, my name is Evan. And what I really want to know is if Deputy Templeton was telling the truth when he said there are alligator snapping turtles living in Mr. Wharton’s pond. Because I find that hard to believe.”

The boy paused. Hitched his shoulders again. He set down a scalpel and pulled off the rubber gloves one finger at a time. He picked up the scalpel again and turned to face them.

Tommy Snow had a handsome, sharp-featured face surrounded by a halo of wispy strawberry-blond hair, the same color as his mother’s. But beneath pale eyebrows, his irises were as dark as his mother’s eyes were light.

“You’re a dwarf,” he said, not meeting Evan’s eyes.

“Tommy!” cried Mrs. Snow.

“The correct thing to say is that I’m a person with dwarfism. Or a little person. Or a person of short stature.”

“A person with dwarfism,” Tommy repeated. “Is it achondroplasia?”

“Actually, no.”

“But that’s the most common form of dwarfism. Seventy percent of cases.”

“True. But I’m unique. One of a kind.”

Tommy nodded, seeming satisfied with that. “Do people laugh at you?”

“Sometimes.”

“People laugh at me.”

“People can be asses.”

Tommy chortled, an awkward, wheezing sound. His soft hair fluttered around the sharp planes of his pale face. His laugh died away, and faint emotions flitted across his features, his mood appearing to vacillate between humor and rage. He looked like a cherub debating whether to stay in the clouds or hurtle himself into the darkness after Lucifer.

Evan pressed his case. “Can you tell me the truth about the snapping turtles? Because aren’t all our snappers in creeks in Southern Illinois? I’m pretty sure Macrochelys temminckii doesn’t do well in a pond as small as Mr. Wharton’s.”

Addie mouthed at him, WTH?

“That’s right.” A spark lit in Tommy’s eyes, which were still focused on the ground near Evan’s feet. “I think you might be a smart guy.”

“I think it takes one to know one.”

Tommy laughed again. He nodded to himself as if reaching a decision and placed the scalpel down on the counter. He said, “I read that someone released an alligator snapper in the pond during the summer. Then I saw someone there from the INHS. But she said she was just checking for invasive species.”

Evan recognized a test. “You’re referring to the Illinois Natural History Survey.”

“You know about them?”

“I do. Is that why you were on Mr. Wharton’s property? You were looking for the turtle?”

“Yes.” Tommy’s hands fisted at his sides. “I said birds’ nests because I didn’t want the sheriff to know about the turtle. In case he found it first. I was looking for bones, too. For Mr. X. Deer bones and cattle bones. Mr. X likes both. He pays me twenty dollars for each femur or tibia. He likes the scapula and mandibles, too. Sometimes I have to search for miles. But sometimes I find them in the field around the pond.”