Eldridge, St. Valentine's, 1925. A scholarship girl lies broken beneath the library's rose window; a hammer in her dead hand, the door barred from within. They are already calling it suicide. You are not.
Eldridge, 1928. A boy is missing, a threat letter smells of an old closed case, and a knitted cuckoo hangs from the envelope. Fog, gaslight, and a city full of liars — detective, the door just knocked.
