Dr. Nort lived at the morgue. Dr. Nort lived for his work. Corpse gurneys flanked clothes racks. Formaldehyde bottles lined bookshelves. A cot and booze cabinet covered one wall. A charred box lolled on an autopsy table. A skeleton was jammed within. Parker played emcee. The drift was meet your new colleague. She’s credentialed. She’s qualified. She swapped her Navy commission for a crime-lab gig. Dr. Nort blushed. Dr. Ashida bowed Oriental. They stood by the table. The box deterred small talk. Dr. Nort
