The room is dimly lit, save for the bright lamp above the metal table.
The body on it is covered from neck to toe with a white sheet. The man that approaches is a forensic pathologist. He knows that part of his professional duty is to remain focused on what he needs to do. He knows that there should be no room for personal feelings, when dealing with such cases. He is simply charged with the job of determining the cause of death and preparing a report that will go to the coroner. He looks again at the paperwork. The Police Report says ‘murdered prostitute’. He pauses for a moment. He sighs. He doesn’t like these. He sees it as just another sad case.
His work is done.
He flips the sheet up over her head and crosses to the desk.
He reluctantly jiggles the stamp on his inkpad, before picking it up.
He sighs again, before bringing it down hard on the section that shows the actual cause of death; ‘NAÏVETÉ’.