"Pull a U-ey, Dr. D. Haddock will have to wait. He was in the apartment next door, we just missed him. Sounds like a nice kid, appropriately freaked about Elise. On the other hand, he snuck around with her while she was supposedly going with Fidella and he changes his hair like I change shirts. So maybe he got involved in more than May-December hoohah."

"Multifaceted," I said. "That could help get you into Harvard."

"You bet. Look at His Flawlessness."

As we returned to Trey Franck's building, the fugue repeated. "Sturgis... Dr. Jernigan, what's up? No, I haven't... probably... yeah, it does, what can I say, you play the cards you're dealt... that's pretty quick, not that I'm complaining... okay... makes sense... no, I haven't, thanks for letting me know... yes, I will keep it close to the vest."

He hung up, bounced his lower teeth against his uppers. "The unnamed opiate has been identified as oxycodone, possibly administered as a liquid because there was no pill residue in Elise's stomach, but Jernigan won't swear to that. Not enough dope for an O.D. but the interaction with all the booze in Elise's system would significantly kick up the risk for heart stoppage."

"Someone gave her a chaser," I said. "Liquid form would make it easier to doctor the alcohol."

"Jernigan was double-checking to see if there were Oxy bottles at the scene or in the trash. When I told her no, she said that clinched it, she's calling it a homicide."

"What are you keeping close to the vest?"

"The fact that she called me. The labs came in yesterday with instructions from Above not to disseminate without official permission. Jernigan was surprised when I didn't do a follow-up call, so she went out on a limb."

"Nothing like a pal at the coroner."

"Too bad I need one."

Trey Franck slumped on the Murphy bed of his shabby single room. Near his left hand was a contact-lens case and a bottle of eyedrops. The orbs to which he'd just applied the drops were big and round, gray-blue flecked with gold, shiny with moisture.

Hanging on a grimy wall opposite the bed was the room's sole nod to decoration: a black poster curling at the corners, bearing a single line of white script limned in electric blue.

DIGITAL CLOUD BOSTON

Milo pointed. "That a band?"

"Art exhibit," said Trey. "Allison Birnbaum, a friend from college."

"Harvard?"

"Indeed, that's a college." Franck shook his head. "I can't believe this."

"How'd you know Elise?"

"I did some work for her. This is utterly horrifying."

"When's the last time you and she had contact?"

"We spoke on the phone around... two weeks ago."

Confirmed by the records.

"Social call?"

"She called me to catch up." Franck's speech had an odd delay to it, lips forming words milliseconds before any sound emerged.

"About?"