"Morning, Rog."
Mike's greeting was curt this morning, his bloodhound senses queued to solving their latest case.
Several feet away and deeply engrossed in his examination, the ME turned around and cocked his head at the two approaching detectives, before removing his surgical mask.
"Morning Mike. Steve."
Nodding at the Medical Examiner briefly, Steve joined his partner next to the gurney that held their latest victim under a plain white sheet.
Roger Harrison was Mike's age, with jet black short hair and a small bald spot appearing on the back of his head. Steve remembered his partner mentioning that they had worked together on and off for almost two decades.
Unlike Mike, Harrison was preparing to retire early, citing that the wisdom gathered during his many years on the job taught him that life was but a fleeting moment, and to be enjoyed while it lasted. In his case, the plan was to move back to the Midwest where his sole daughter studied to become a teacher, bringing his wife and dog along to enjoy as many years together as they had left.
All things considered, Steve couldn't fault him.
Taking a moment to smile at both detectives welcomingly, Harrison pulled the sheet back farther, exposing the head and upper body of their severely bloated victim.
"What have you got for us so far?" Mike asked matter-of-factly and reached for his notebook to cross check earlier observations, "I only know we are dealing with a Caucasian male so far."
"Well, as you can see, he's been in the water for about a week." , Harrison explained and unceremoniously pointed at their victim's distorted features, "I did you a favor and made a call into the Coast Guard to track the currents. That should give us a better idea where he came from."
Cringing when the strong odor of ocean water and decomposition filled the large room, Mike put his hand over his nose and mouth.
"Rog, is there anything you can give me as far as identification goes? Height? He's what, maybe just short of six feet? Age? Anything on his clothes? Tattoos? Scars?"
Next to him, Steve seemed equally unsettled, his skin tone turning a shade greener. Breathing through his mouth, his eyes moved back and forth between the corpse and Harrison.
"Not a whole lot yet." The ME replied and shrugged , "Male. Caucasian. 5'8". Late twenties, mid thirties. About one hundred-eighty pounds. I am planning on taking some tissue samples to do a tox screen. That should come back early tomorrow, possibly this afternoon, if I can get some favors in. I am seeing some trauma to his face and upper body which could be from a fall, perhaps suicide off a bridge. "
"Or somebody shoving him off a bridge." Mike added somberly.
"Correct…When you take a bite you just don't let go, do you, Lieutenant?", Harrison noted admiringly and pointed back at their corpse, "At any rate, I am not seeing any defensive wounds. So even if he was thrown off a bridge, he wasn't fighting it. I will start the autopsy now and see if he was still alive when he hit the water. That should give you a better idea on whether you have a case or not."
"A week is a long time to be floating." Mike mused deep in thought, "Steve, let's check with missing person to see if we can dig anything up. Rog, let me know what you find as soon as you get done please."