“It’s a possibility,” Angus said, his green eyes glimmering with intelligence. “But there’s a sexual component to all these killings, and I think this guy gets off on harming women.” He turned the page. “Let’s go through the notes and I’ll develop a profile.”

Wolfe looked at Jethro. “You helped catch Lassiter, right? What are your degrees in?” He munched on a cinnamon roll.

Jethro reached for another sheet in his file folder. “Philosophy, with emphases in rational choice, game, moral theory, ethics, and decision theories,” he said absently, reading along.

“As well as psychology and criminology,” Angus added.

“Huh.” Wolfe licked frosting from his fingers. “Somebody is trying to explain away evil.”

Jethro jolted and then returned to reading.

Nari eyed a blueberry muffin. Sometimes Wolfe was so insightful it was scary. Or impressive. Maybe both.

Jethro cleared his throat. “There weren’t notes with the first two victims, and we’ve tracked down the origin of the note with the third victim.” He turned toward Wolfe. “The passage was from a poem called The Fate of the Damned by Giuseppe Legonito. The poet lost his family in a fire and went crazy all by himself.”

Wolfe sat back. “Well, that fits Angus.”

Angus winced. “Thanks, Wolfe.”

“Sure.” Wolfe set down his folder. “What was the saying you found on the bridge?”

Angus spoke instantly, not looking at the papers. “‘The forest watches, the darkness knows, the time is coming—can you feel the change?’”

Jethro tapped a Cross pen on his paper. “The passage is from an eighteenth-century poem by Aiden Donnelly, who studied under Robert Burns for a while and was also Scottish. He, too, went crazy. This poem, like the other, is about death.”

Angus sat back. “That doesn’t help me.”

“No, but this might.” Jethro pushed a picture of the graffiti beneath the bridge toward Angus.

Nari leaned closer. She’d seen the graffiti, but the photo made the symbols easier to discern. She squinted. “Wait a minute.”

Jethro nodded. “Yeah. It’s Latin for Vosegus, who was a Celtic god of hunting and forestation.”

Angus exhaled. “Lassiter was big on the Celtic gods.”

“I remember,” Jethro said somberly. “Of course, anybody studying the case would know that if they had access to all the case files, which we’re assuming.”

Angus didn’t respond to that thinly veiled question. Instead he turned the page. “Did anybody get their hands on the note found with the fourth body?”

“No.” Wolfe leaned back in his chair. “No other notes have been entered into any computer system. Metro might be worried we can hack their system, or they’re trying to keep information from the HDD so they can solve the case, or maybe they’re just being cautious. Is there any chance your friend will slip us info?”