A grave mistake.
"Can you believe," I tutted to the smartly dressed woman in the waiting room, "this is the third batch of inquests this week.
"It's like the Burma railroad out there. They're dropping like flies. It must be a pain in the backside for you, too - all that paperwork."
The woman wiped away a tear. "You are," I asked nervously, "the pathologist?" "No," she sniffed, "The deceased's daughter."
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|Publication:||Sunday Mercury (Birmingham, England)|
|Date:||Sep 27, 2009|
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