“Sometimes. There’s a Chinese aphrodisiac called Tiger Stamina I use once in a while. And occasionally my acupuncturist gives me something for some minor complaints I have.”

Jack stopped working and stared at his favorite mortuary tech.

“What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“As the saying goes, I knew you were dumb, but I didn’t think you were stupid.”

“Why? What are you talking about?”

“I had no idea you were a user of alternative medicine. Why?”

Vinnie shrugged. “I guess because it’s natural.”

“Natural, my ass,” Jack said scornfully. “The worst poison known to man comes from a tree frog in South America. You cannot imagine how small an amount would be necessary to kill you, and it’s natural. Calling something natural is a meaningless marketing ploy.”

“All right, calm down! Maybe I like alternative medicine because it’s been in use for more than six thousand years. After all that time, they have to know what they’re doing.”

“You mean the wacky idea that somehow in the distant past people had more scientific wisdom than they do today? That’s both crazy and counterintuitive. Six thousand years ago people thought thunder was a bunch of gods moving around furniture.”

“All right,” Vinnie repeated, with a touch of irritation. “I like alternative medicine because it treats my whole body, not just my arm or spleen or whatever.”

“Ah!” Jack said, his voice rising and tinged with more scorn than when he spoke about the “natural” fable. “The holistic myth or the more-holistic-than-thou nonsense is just as crazy as everything else you’ve said. Regular medicine is a thousand times more holistic than alternative medicine. With conventional medicine, they’re even taking into account individual genetic profiles. How much more holistic can you be than that?”

“How about we get this autopsy over with,” Vinnie suggested. “And maybe you should stop yelling.”

Just as he had a few days ago in Ronald Newhouse’s office, Jack suddenly came to his senses. Again, he’d allowed his emotions to get the best of him. The room had gone silent, and everyone was staring at him. When he glanced down at his hands, he realized one hand was still grasping the heart and lungs he’d been examining while the other hand still held the butcher knife. As suddenly as the buzz of conversation stopped it now resumed.

“Wow!” Vinnie murmured. “You’re getting awfully touchy in your old age.”

“I’ve been looking into alternative medicine since our case of vertebral artery dissection on Monday, and I’ve become a touch emotional about what I’ve been learning.”

“A touch?” Vinnie questioned mockingly. “I’d say it’s over the top, but I tell you what I’ll do: I’ll give up on the acupuncture if it will make you feel better.”

“It would,” Jack said, “especially if you ditch the herbs as well.”