I carried the tiny blue body bag close to my body to shield the tiny infant inside from the reporters and flash of the camera. I was slipping and sliding in the deep, virgin snow. I walked as fast as I could; I accidentally walked straight into one of the police officers. The tall African American man wrapped his arm around my torso and helped me back to my van. He helped me firmly secure the tiny body to the gurney. He said it was a tragedy; I readily agreed with him as he helped me out of the van. I thanked him for all his help and promptly began to drive as far away from the scene as possible.

I had to remind myself out loud that I needed to watch how fast I was driving. The first snow of the season was always the worst to drive in; statistically, it normally carried the most fatalities. I reminded myself that it was my job to deliver the tiny body to the morgue . . . not that the body would find any peace there.

Sydney met me at the loading dock; he was quick to help me out of the van. Nigel must have radioed Sydney the details of the case. The details were a little bit too shocking for me to clearly express in a rational tone; this case already had me wound up. I already felt deep ties to this case; I was going to give this baby boy that was abandoned at St. Ines a name. I wasn't going to let a baby that might have been hours old go without a name; it would be my gift to him on his birthday.

I carried the body bag close to my body. Sydney asked if I was okay; I was at a loss of words. These cases were always hard; the heightened emotions of this Christmas season just exacerbated my emotions over the case.

We laid the tiny baby on the autopsy table. Sydney asked me to cut; he said he'd never worked on an infant before. I was thankful that I only worked on infants once in a blue moon. I showed Sydney the fine skills that are required to look for truth and answers within such a tiny body. I stopped to explain what I was doing and why; Sydney nodded. He asked questions that I patiently answered. I was starting my New Years resolution early this year; I was going to be the patient teacher that I should have been for . . . I still couldn't say her name . . . and Peter. I was going to do better; I wasn't going to isolate people just because I found their personalities nothing less than nauseating. Sydney had thanked me after the marathon autopsy lasting well over six hours. I wasn't sure if he was thanking me for my words of advice and wisdom or thanking me for finally letting him go home.

I sat in my office. I wrote all my findings from autopsy; the string of facts did nothing to ease the anger I felt.

Infant John Doe is a male approximately 2 to 12 hours perinatal. General survey indicates ligature marks encircling the lower neck with evidence of a collapsed trachea. General survey indicates that the wounds occurred following labor. Internal survey indicates fully expanded lungs with regions of collapse. Internal inspect of the larynx and trachea indicates the airway was completely obstructed due to a traumatic crushed trachea. Tissue samples and toxicology are pending. Jordan M. Cavanaugh, MD Medical Examiner for the State of Massachusetts.

This baby was alive after he was birthed. Someone heard him cry; I was going to find that someone and figure out exactly why this tiny life was ended so violently.

To Be Continued . . .