Secrets of the Hanged Man (Icarus Fell #3) (An Icarus Fell Novel) by Blake Bruce

Author:Blake, Bruce [Blake, Bruce]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Best BItts Productions
Published: 2013-07-11T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

“What are you doing?”

I glanced away from the micro film reader and blinked the tiny letters of newsprint out of my vision to bring Dido into focus.

“Research,” I said and went back to it. I moved the knob at the bottom and pages of old newspapers flew by fast enough to make my head spin. I heard her take a chair from the work station beside mine and pull it over. She sat.

“Why are we sitting here researching? Shouldn’t we be out looking for someone?”

I stopped and leaned back in my chair. “You ask a lot of questions. How are we supposed to find Meg’s son if we don’t know where to look or why?”

“We know why.” She paused and I heard her tapping her fingers on the desk, but I didn’t let it distract me from the words whizzing by on the screen. “Why are you going through old papers?”

I sighed and leaned back in my chair, my hand going to my shoulder to rub the ache threatening to become constant. She sat watching me, awaiting my reply; I did my best not to scowl at her. Sometimes I needed to remind myself she was a kid, and a lost soul. She deserved my sympathy, not my ire, but she made it tough at times.

“I’m trying to figure out why I recognized the guy in Meg’s photo.”

“Hmm.” She looked away, traced a scratch in the desk top with the tip of her finger. “You ever heard of the internet?”

I let the impending scowl have its way with my face, then turned back to the screen. A minute passed, the pages of a nearly twenty year old paper flying by in the viewer. I was unsure if I’d picked the right day, and my temples started to throb somewhere around the sports section; it wouldn’t be long before it became a headache and the headache made me grouchy. Well, grouchier. I noticed my personal space being invaded by Dee leaning over in her chair for a better view.

“What are you hoping to find?”

I sighed and halted my search again. If she kept interrupting, a turtle with a note strapped to its back would complete my task quicker.

“Something to remind me where I know the guy from.”

“And you think you’ll find it in an old newspaper?”

I nodded, anxious to continue my search rather than having to explain myself. Inexplicably, I suspected finding out details of this woman’s life was important and might help elucidate something I didn’t realize needed elucidating. And after that, I needed to find some guy named Chan Wu to get rid of my tag-along soul.

“I think I met him once, when I was living on the streets, so I must have been eighteen or nineteen.”

She frowned. “I don’t get how going through old newspapers will help.”

I looked away from the half-column review of a play at a local theater that had long since closed and a bunch of advertising. “Because I went back the next day and the place was surrounded by yellow crime scene tape and crawling with cops.

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