"The story ran in The Virginian Pilot, back in October, I think. It wasn't a big deal. Just your typical feature," he said. "My personal opinion is he decided to come back to snoop around for something bigger."

"Such as?"

"Don't ask me. I'm not a reporter." He glanced across the table at Danny. "I personally hate the media. They're always coming up with these wild theories and will do anything to prove them. Now this guy's kinda famous around here, being a big-shot reporter for the AP and all. Rumor has it when he gets with girls it's window dressing. You get beyond it and nothing's there, if you know what I mean." He had a cruel smile on his face, and I could not believe how much I did not like him when we had only met today.

"Where are you getting your information?" I asked.

"I hear things."

"Danny, let's get hair and fingernail samples," I said.

"You know, I take the time to talk to people on the street," Roche added as he brushed against my hip.

"You want his mustache plucked, too?" Danny fetched forceps and envelopes from a surgical cart.

"May as well."

"I guess you're going to test him for HIV.- Roche brushed against me again.

"Yes," I replied.

"Then you're thinking he might be queer."

I stopped what I was doing because I'd had enough.

"Detective Roche-I turned around to face him, and my voice was hard-if you are going to be in my morgue, then you will give me room to work. You will stop rubbing against me, and you will treat my patients with respect. This man did not ask to be here dead and naked on this table.

And I don't like the word queer."

"Well, irregardless of what you call it, his orientation might somehow be important." He was nonplussed, if not pleased by my irritation.

"I don't know for a fact that this man was or was not gay," I said. "But I do know for a fact that he did not die of AIDS."