She went down to her floor and popped her head into the conference room where Ted was digging through a stack of papers. “Hey, Ted!” she said, “you want to go down to the basement and see what we can pry out of Dr Sam?” They found the coroner in the autopsy suite bent over a body on a stainless steel table. When he saw them, he pulled off his gloves, lowered his face mask and told his tech to sew up for him. “What do you want now, Lieutenant?” “Stopped by to check my autopsies from last night’s homicides.” “There were three of them, Lieutenant.” “Yes, Doc, did you get them all done?” He toddled toward his office and they followed in his wake. “Awful presumptuous of her to expect me to have them all done by now, don’t you think so, Branson?” Ted kept his mouth shut. He didn’t want to be caught between these two when they squabbled. He could rarely tell the difference between their serious talk and their silly banter. “Humpf,” the coroner said. “She’s got you cowed, doesn’t she, Branson?
