The Dead Cop
an excerpt

The pathologist shrugged and swallowed. "I was gonna do the autopsy. It didn't sound like there was water in the lungs, so you probably..." She swallowed again. "...probably died before you fell in the water. That's not conclusive, though."

"Nothing's very conclusive today," he retorted.

"You're taking this really well, mister."

"Apparently," he said with a smirk, "death is very relaxing."

* * *

Willie's eyes met Harry's with a holy fire. "Would you believe me if I said I dreamed of an angel, who told me that a lost soul would be coming here this night? That I should offer balm to his weary soul and welcome him into the loving arms of God?"

"No, I'm afraid I wouldn't."

The man grinned. "Then would you believe I've got a spastic colon that wakes me up at all hours with gas pains from hell?"

Harry chuckled. "Why don't you ask God for balm for your weary bowels?"

The man laughed. "I have, I have, but his grace is sufficient for me."