That a man might know the end of this day’s business, ere it come. —Shakespeare, Julius Caesar “Very interesting,” Dr. Lowry said, “very, very interesting.” She held a magnifying glass in her hand and bent over the photographs like an egret, slim neck extended, arms tucked into her sides like folded wings. “I don’t suppose the actual body’s available.” Bree knew her Company’s limitations. “No, I’m afraid not.” “Hm.” Dr. Lowry put the magnifying glass down and shuffled the photos into a neat stack. Then she perched on the round stool next to her examining table. “There should be a videotape of the autopsy itself. I’d like to see that before I commit myself.” “I don’t know if I can obtain a copy for you or not,” Bree said. The Company rules for collecting evidence were fairly clear to her by now. Any forensic evidence, files, interviews, or documents that would eventually be made available to the public were fair game for Petru and Ron. “But I’m not asking you to prepare testimony.
