Jack flashed his OCME ID card and was buzzed through the security turnstile. The records department was on the fourth floor in a spotless office lined with floor-to-ceiling faux-hardwood vertical drawers. Each massive drawer held eight four-foot-wide horizontal shelves. At the end of the day, each aisle had a fold-out wall of the same faux wood that was closed and locked.

The front desk of the department was staffed by a smiling woman named Alida Sanchez. “What can we do for you?” she asked in a lilting voice. “You look particularly motivated.”

“I guess I am,” Jack admitted, returning the smile. He handed over the two index cards, asking to see the records.

Alida glanced at them before standing up. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Jack said. He watched her walk away in the direction of the East River, visible through the windows. A few moments later, she reappeared with a folder. She returned to the desk and handed it to Jack. “Here’s the first, to get you started.”

Jack opened the record and pawed through the medicolegal report, autopsy notes, autopsy report, telephone-notice-of-death forms, and case worksheet until he came to the certificate of death. Pulling this form out from the others, he noticed that the immediate cause was the same as Keara Abelard’s, vertebral artery dissection. On the next line of the form, after the phrase “due to or as a consequence of,” was written “chiropractic cervical manipulation.”

“Perfect,” Jack murmured to himself.

“Here’s your second file,” Alida said, returning from a more distant aisle. Curious, Jack opened the second folder and pulled out the death certificate. Glancing at the “immediate cause of death” line, he was surprised to see that it included “melanoma.” Lowering his eyes to the next line, he saw that the death was a consequence of cancer that had spread to the liver and brain. Confused as to why Margaret would have sent the case, he moved on to part two of the cause of death. There was a line designated as “other significant conditions contributing to death,” where Margaret had written that the patient had been advised to use only homeopathy for six months.

“My goodness,” Jack said.

“Is something wrong, doctor?” Alida asked.

Jack looked up from the death certificate, and then held it up in the air. “This case has opened my eyes to another negative side of alternative medicine I’d not given any thought to.”

“Oh?” Alida questioned. In her job, she wasn’t accustomed to having conversations with the MEs, especially after the records department had moved away from the morgue to the new building.

“I used to think that alternative medicine like homeopathy was at least safe, but it isn’t so.”

“What is homeopathy exactly?” Aida asked.