Chapter Eight
Cold mortality.
Most locales don’t take kindly to private investigators snooping around. I know this from personal experience. So, when I hit the coroner’s office the following morning, I didn’t expect a warm welcome.
I’ve visited a few different morgues in my time as a cop, as an investigator, as next of kin ….
It was always the same. The evasive answers, the noncommittal statements. Bland platitudes professionals feel forced to use around death. “No information at this time ….” “Results are not yet available .…” “We’ll call you when we know more ….”
Today, I expected nothing different, hoping to learn something by eavesdropping on staff or, if I got lucky, by paying off security. The building itself was a three-story blocky construction from the Victorian era, made of
