Then there was the smell. They were getting warmer, thawing, but not getting any better. It struck you when you entered the room. Could you ever get used to the smell, cold flat coke in cardboard. You can try lots of different things, but all you can really do is try to disguise the smell, maybe some mentholated gels for under the nose, but it didn’t help the clothing or the hair. The smell could stick on you for days.

I was a suspect, though they had not told me. Everybody who watches TV knows that those closest to the victim were always the first to be investigated. Just think of Joan Bennet Ramsey in Colorado, or even John Hacking from Utah. Sometimes they’re wrong sometimes they’re right. While they had not yet questioned me, I could feel their glances, and the edge of their innuendo filled conversations.

Yeah I didn't need a JD from some hoity toity night school to know this was not good, after all I have a Ph.D. in TV.

I stood out of the way; but within earshot.