He's one of the few people who make Milo looked unscathed.

Another ponytailed girl came over, lofting a handheld computer. "What're you guys having today?"

Milo said, "Number Six."

I scanned the menu and ordered an elk burger with bison bacon.

The chief said, "Watching your cholesterol, Dr. Delaware?"

"I like bison."

"You and Buffalo Bill. And the Plains Indians. You have Native American in your background, right?"

"Along with a lot of other stuff."

"Mongrel, just like me."

I'd never heard he was anything but Irish.

He said, "Got some Seneca in there. Or so my paternal grandmother claimed. Can't be sure of that, though. Woman was a serious drinker." Twirling his chopstick. "Just like your father."

I didn't respond.

He removed the sunglasses. Small black eyes scanned my face like a dermatologist probing for lesions. "Clouds the judgment, serious drinking."

I said, "It's a problem in some families."

He turned to Milo. "What the hell were you thinking taking him along to the Freeman scene without authorization, then bullshitting Creighton about it? Didn't you figure he'd check with me?"

"I assumed he would, sir."

Down went the chopstick. "It was a Fuck you?"

"No, sir. It was a Doing my job as best I can given the constraints."

"You can't do your job without him? We're talking some kind of psychological dependency here?"

"We're talking preference based on past experience, sir."

"You need a shrink on board to function?"

"When cases are unusual and Dr. Delaware has time, I find his input helpful. I thought you agreed, so I didn't foresee any objection."

"And Creighton?"

"Creighton's a bureaucrat."

The chief retrieved the stick, rolled it impressively from finger to finger. The black eyes divided their time between Milo and me. "You didn't foresee any objection."

"Based on--"

"I get it. But it's still bullshit. Amazing the doctor still puts up with you."

Twice, the chief had offered me important-sounding jobs with the department that I'd turned down.

"I can see the value of shrinkery for weird cases, Sturgis, but I'm not sensing any psychosexual horror on this one."

Milo said, "A body packed in dry ice, no obvious cause of death, and a total disregard for proper procedure made it unusual to me."

"You think it's unusual, Doctor?"

"It's different."

"Sturgis explain to you why discretion is paramount?"

"He did."

"What exactly did he tell you?"

"That your son attends Windsor Tech and has applied to Yale."

"What do you think about Yale?"

"Top school."

"Great reputation," he said. "Just like the hedge-fund wizards and the cretins at Fannie Mae had until they got their britches yanked and guess what was underneath? Empty space."

"You don't like Yale?"