Before starting this chapter I heated up some leftover chick pea curry, sat down with the bowl, and started reading.
"Pulling from behind the ears, the skin of the victim's scalp is then folded forward across the face so that any head wound can be tracked and the brain itself can be removed, weighed and examined for disease," page 410.
Oh. Never mind. Not hungry.
Workplace fun: not always acceptable
"Before Smialek's arrival, the autopsy room was indeed a less formal place. Coffee and cigarettes were bartered and shared in the cutting room with a six-pack or two, treating the cutters to some early relief from the weekend rush that always began with Friday night's violence," page 404.
For some strange reason, this behavior doesn't seem at all appropriate for a medical examiner's office. I guess it would be less offensive if it didn't impact their jobs, but sometimes it impacted the integrity of evidence.
Smialek was able to get the examining room in check, even if he is on a power trip.
According to Worden, this resulted in more respect for the dead. This might not be the ultimate goal, or even important for an autopsy room, but it is a plus.
I think that the dead deserve respect. I don't expect examiners and detectives to cry over bodies, or care really, but laughing at people's genitals, at least in my head crosses a line.
Simon explains it's what keeps a homicide detective sane, and I understand that. I also think there's a line. Just because someone is dead doesn't mean they were not at some point human.
Not quite like CSI
I can't look at blood. I don't even like to think about blood.
SO this chapter was pretty intense, and for some reason it was way more gruesome than I had anticipated.
Simon (so probably the detectives) refer to the examiners as cutters. Gross. Sometimes there's bodies lined up in the halls. Gross.
But one thing that is distinctly unlike television, is the amount of time it takes for things to get done. Since the detectives need to start investigating immediately, toxicology tests and the like will not be finished. If this was CSI they'd pull one hair off the body, and run it through some high-tech system then a picture and address of the perp would come up.
Of course that's not what my perception of autopsy was (well maybe to an extent) but this chapter made me realize that I had no idea what their jobs were like. I am thankful that I have not had to witness an autopsy, and (fingers crossed) I hope I never do.
Business as usual
The second part of this chapter follows the Homicide detectives on cases, which is super interesting, but at times repetitive. I think that's what makes this book so honest. Not each death is treated like a special snowflake, because it isn't.
Language
"It's a two story dump on North Bond Street and, of course, there are no witnesses- just a bunch of burned furniture and one crispy critter in the middle room. Some smokehound, an old guy, maybe sixty. The poor bastard is lying there like a piece of chicken that someone forgot to turn over..." page 441.
Well, this man has been stripped of all dignity. He's been reduced to a burnt body, and Simon compares him to an animal, twice.
Maybe this man wasn't the best person, I don't know, but does Simon? This guy probably died in excruciating pain. Maybe describing him as a burnt piece of chicken is fair, if that's what he looked like, but "crispy critter" is a bit much.
"Lenore, the mystery whore," page 449.
Come on. Sure she's a prostitute, and that the rhyming is clever and what not, but as a journalist, unless she called her self a whore, or if one of the detectives did (maybe they did) I don't think it's Simon's place to go around throwing words like whore and smokehound.
If the someone else use's them that's fair game, but he should make that clear instead of presenting it as fact.

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