Forensic pathology’s dirty secret
A fellow forensic pathologist cornered me at a conference and told me her story in whispers, afraid to be overheard.
“You wouldn’t believe what happened to me.”
“What?” I said, leaning closer. “Are you OK?”
“I was asked to do a second autopsy by the family of a man who died in police custody. When I got to the neck, I …
Forensic pathology’s dirty secret


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