You know it's a bad one when I lock the door of my home office before I go through the evidence. A while ago it was a guy who was beaten and set on fire with gasoline. Somehow I got the job of going through the autopsy photos and interviewing the medical examiner to get straight what happened. It took me a while to realize that I was sitting there eating potato chips as I went through the photos.

I suppose people get used to dealing with stranger things. Still, I wonder if it should bother me more than it does.