I was almost finished with the external examination, but what was left was the most invasive, for in any unnatural death, it was necessary to investigate a patient’s sexual practices. Rarely was I given a sign as obvious as a tattoo depicting one orientation or another, and as a rule, no one the individual was intimate with was going to step forth to volunteer information, either. But it really would not have mattered what I was told or by whom. I would still check for evidence of anal intercourse.
“What are you looking for?” Roche returned to the table and stood close behind me.
“Proctitis, anal tunneling, small fissures, thickening of the epithelium from trauma,” I replied as I worked.
“Then you’re assuming he’s queer.” He peered over my shoulder.
The color mounted to Danny’s cheeks, and anger sparked in his eyes.
“Anal ring, epithelium are unremarkable,” I said, scribbling notes. “In other words, he has no injury that would be consistent with an active homosexual lifestyle. And, Detective Roche, you’re going to have to give me a little more room.”
I could feel his breath on my neck.
“You know, he’s been in this area a lot doing interviews.”
“What sort of interviews?” I asked, and he was seriously getting on my nerves.
“That I don’t know.”
“Who was he interviewing?”
“Last fall he did a piece on the Inactive Ship Yard. Captain Green could probably tell you more.”
“I was just with Captain Green, and he didn’t tell me about that.”
“The story ran in The Virginian Pilot, back in October, I think. It wasn’t a big deal.
Just your typical feature,” he said. “My personal opinion is he decided to come back to snoop around for something bigger.”
“Such as?”
“Don’t ask me. I’m not a reporter.” He glanced across the table at Danny. “I personally hate the media. They’re always coming up with these wild theories and will do anything to prove them. Now this guy’s kinda famous around here, being a big-shot reporter for the AP and all. Rumor has it when he gets with girls it’s window dressing.
You get beyond it and nothing’s there, if you know what I mean.” He had a cruel smile on his face, and I could not believe how much I did not like him when we had only met today.
“Where are you getting your information?” I asked.
“I hear things.”
“Danny, let’s get hair and fingernail samples,” I said.
“You know, I take the time to talk to people on the street,” Roche added as he brushed against my hip.
“You want his mustache plucked, too?” Danny fetched forceps and envelopes from a surgical cart.
“May as well.”
“I guess you’re going to test him for HIV.- Roche brushed against me again.
“Yes,” I replied.
“Then you’re thinking he might be queer.”
I stopped what I was doing because I’d had enough.
“Detective Roche–I turned around to face him, and my voice was hard–if you are going to be in my morgue, then you will give me room to work. You will stop rubbing against me, and you will treat my patients with respect. This man did not ask to be here dead and naked on this table.
And I don’t like the word queer.”
“Well, irregardless of what you call it, his orientation might somehow be important.”
He was nonplussed, if not pleased by my irritation.
“I don’t know for a fact that this man was or was not gay,” I said. “But I do know for a fact that he did not die of AIDS.”
I grabbed a scalpel off a surgical cart and his demeanor abruptly changed. He backed off, suddenly unnerved because I was about to start cutting, so now I had that problem to cope with, too.
“Have you ever seen an autopsy?” I said to him.
“A few.” He looked like he might throw up “Why don’t you go sit down over there,” I suggested none too kindly as I wondered why Chesapeake had assigned him to this case or any case. “Or go out in the bay.”
“It’s just hot in here.”
“If you get sick, go for the nearest trash can.” It was all Danny could do not to laugh.