<div align="center">(http://i786.photobucket.com/albums/yy145/alxnjsh/characters/cj.jpg?t=1266118101)(http://i786.photobucket.com/albums/yy145/alxnjsh/characters/cj2.jpg?t=1266118117)</div><br/>Christopher John Simons, known as CJ to any acquaintances and friends looked at his watch as he sat in the cab heading to the county medical facility. He tapped the messenger bag that was slung over his shoulder and chest impatiently. Outside the window the rain pelted down in a typical Seattle storm. As an Assistant District Attorney for King County, he often found himself shooting around town doing research into the case. This was, however, his first trip to the county morgue.<br/><br/>This case was an unusual one, a death of a rather wealthy elderly man by asphyxiation. Because of the high profile of the deceased, an ADA was put immediately on the case. That of course was to the chagrin of the Police Department. It wasn’t so buddy-buddy as on Law and Order or CSI. While technically a team, the District Attorney’s Office, Police Department, and Medical Examiner’s Office approached cases from different perspectives. Often the differences were difficult to work through. It usually happened, but not without strain.<br/><br/>What was particularly odd about the death was that asphyxiation did not appear to be accidental – such as liquid in the lungs and aspiration. From what CJ could get out of the report, there were fibers found in the deceased lungs, but other than that absolutely no trauma.<br/><br/>Shaking out of his contemplations, finally the cab stopped in front of the rather non-descript back entrance to the hospital. CJ paid the cabbie and got out, opening his umbrella so as not to get wet. It would ruin his afternoon if he got too wet. The perfectionist inside him had difficulty when he couldn’t have complete control. At this point he had yet to figure out how to control the weather.<br/><br/>Heading into the building he was greeted by a security checkpoint where he closed his umbrella. CJ flashed his ID to the guard after he fished it out of his trench coat. He was allowed to proceed.<em>Why were morgues always in the basement?</em>He got into the elevator and pressed the bottom floor. The doors nearly shut before CJ jumped as a hand reached in the middle, causing them to open again.<br/><br/>In stepped a drenched stranger. CJ looked quickly, offering a silent nod. The guy seemed to be built like a break wall. It caused CJ to look again and raise an eyebrow before looking back straight forward.<br/><br/>CJ noted the stranger looked at the button already pressed and seemed content with heading towards the morgue. The elevator was slow and probably installed in the late seventies. CJ waited impatiently as the numbers changed noting their descent. Finally it stopped and the door opened. CJ waited, but was offered a hand to go first.<br/><br/>CJ again merely nodded silently in a ‘thanks’ and he walked into the corridor. Following the sign he headed to the receiving area, followed by the stranger. He found a clerk and presented his badge.<br/><br/>“I’m Christopher Simons from the District Attorney’s Office. I’m here to see…” CJ clenched his jaw. It was something he did when feeling rushed and frustrated. He rarely did it in court, putting on instead a cold blank face. Now he was agitated. He couldn’t remember the name of the medical examiner.<br/>