Case: Fight for your life!
The little, balding make in his green scrubs is bending over the body on the autopsy table. A gloved hand reaches up to switch on the recorder. "John Doe. 5'11" and 170lbs. A pair of street kids found him naked while dumper diving in the upper west side. This guy is a mess."
Every line of the doctor's body shows he's tired. Not just physically, but emotionally. She knows. It's the third body this week. And the only thing they have in common is....
"He's not that tall, but he's got muscle. Not that it saved him. The knuckles are mess, he fought back hard. Bruises. Lots. Everywhere. But spleen that is the cause of death. It ruptured due to blunt force trauma."
That. Kestrel slips out of the shadows. She needs to get a look. Though after the last two she has a good idea what she'll see. It says something about the people of Gotham--or perhaps those that work in this building--that the man only gasps then starts swearing a blue streak when he sees her. "The hell?! Can't you people ever knock?!"
She reaches out and knocks on the counter as she passes. Then she's over to the body peering closely. There, behind their ear. This is the other thing it has in common with the first two bodies. Three, neat little scars. The first only one. The other had four. At first blush it doesn't seem like a pattern but it's there, in the back of her mind, nagging her.
Kestrel doesn't touch the body, she knows better. But she moves around, trying to see from every angle. "Where found?"
Every line of the doctor's body shows he's tired. Not just physically, but emotionally. She knows. It's the third body this week. And the only thing they have in common is....
"He's not that tall, but he's got muscle. Not that it saved him. The knuckles are mess, he fought back hard. Bruises. Lots. Everywhere. But spleen that is the cause of death. It ruptured due to blunt force trauma."
That. Kestrel slips out of the shadows. She needs to get a look. Though after the last two she has a good idea what she'll see. It says something about the people of Gotham--or perhaps those that work in this building--that the man only gasps then starts swearing a blue streak when he sees her. "The hell?! Can't you people ever knock?!"
She reaches out and knocks on the counter as she passes. Then she's over to the body peering closely. There, behind their ear. This is the other thing it has in common with the first two bodies. Three, neat little scars. The first only one. The other had four. At first blush it doesn't seem like a pattern but it's there, in the back of her mind, nagging her.
Kestrel doesn't touch the body, she knows better. But she moves around, trying to see from every angle. "Where found?"