Sal Fidella's computer files showed he'd contemplated finding additional blackmail victims after Elise's death. The files Tristram and Quinn had added concentrated on porn, tunes, photos from exotic car and motorcycle sites. Email correspondence between the boys indicated they viewed their murder spree with hilarity, wondered what it would feel like to do a girl.

like bri and selma?

yeah they'd be softer but you'd probably need a new blade anyway

John Nguyen said, "No deal, no way. I've got a bisected corpse, if anything's a death penalty case this is it."

No one gets executed in California, but prosecutors collect lethal-injection sentences like baseball cards.

In the end, a deal was cut. Guilty pleas to first-degree murder and life sentences, but with the possibility of parole because both killers were young, had no prior criminal record, and were potentially "redeemable."

Milo said, "Coupons are redeemable."

One file that didn't show up on either Elise's computer or Fidella's was an indication of where four years of SAT scam money had gone. With fees of fifteen thousand a pop and the possibility that Trey Franck, wearing a variety of wigs, had gamed the system over two dozen times during a three-year period, the total was significant.

One day after the plea bargain hit the news, Dr. Will Kham called Milo from Cottage Hospital in Santa Barbara and asked for an appointment. We met him at Cafe Moghul, where Milo was making up for lost time with a mountain of lamb.

Kham wore a dark blue suit and a matching shirt and tie, entered the restaurant furtively.

A physician, but his black bag today was a wheeled carry-on.

Out of it came a sheaf of papers. Eighteen months of investment records from a Citibank subsidiary in Santa Barbara.

Nine hundred and eighteen thousand dollars joint-accounted to Kham and Elise Freeman's sister, Sandra Stuehr.

Milo kept eating as he read. When he turned the last page, he said, "Value stocks and corporate bonds, you guys haven't done too badly, considering."

"I want out," said Kham. "I can tell you exactly what's mine and what's hers."

"Tell me about it, Doc."

"The figures will speak for themselves."

"Tell me anyway."

Not a talkative man, but after some struggle, Kham got the story out.

He and Sandra had planned to be married, though the scandal had changed everything, no way would his family tolerate that kind of thing. And he'd been having doubts, himself.

"Too rushed. The fact that she was so eager was starting to concern me."

A year ago, Sandra had insisted on a joint account to "prove the strength of their relationship."

Kham had contributed five hundred and twenty thousand, Sandra a bit over three hundred thousand. Investments purchased at the bottom of the meltdown by Kham had added nearly a hundred in profit.