“With its low ceiling and rows of stark blue metal tables, the autopsy room at the back of the first floor always reminded me of a pool hall—the least-fun game hall of all time. The tables were thankfully empty this morning. Doing my best not to peek into the lab’s scales and buckets and glass-doored fridges, I crossed the white-tiled room to the office of Assistant Medical Examiner Dr. Clarissa Linder. Dr. Linder was a genial, nice-looking woman with short dark-blond hair. I’d worked ca...ses with her before. Before becoming an ME, she had a lucrative pediatrician practice on the Upper East Side. But when she’d turned forty, inspired to do something more challenging, she had traded in Band-Aids and lollipops for psycho killers and floaters. Her door was open and she was standing behind her desk, thumbing at the Fitbit on her wrist. “You have one of these stupid fitness things, Mike?”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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