[Morse meets Max DeBryn, the pathologist, examining a body on a river bank]
DC Endeavour Morse: Morning.
Dr. Max DeBryn: Not for this poor sod. You are whom?
DC Endeavour Morse: Morse. Detective Constable. On attachment from Newtown. You're the pathologist, I presume.
Dr. Max DeBryn: [jovially] Better hope so, hadn't you. Otherwise I'm making one hell of a mess of your scene of crime. Max DeBryn.
[DeBryn offers his hand for Morse to shake it, then withdraws it as Morse hesitates because he sees the blood on DeBryn's glove]
DC Endeavour Morse: Is it a scene of crime? Initial reports suggested suicide.
Dr. Max DeBryn: Looks to be. Single entry wound on the right temple. Typical starburst gunpowder pattern on the skin surrounding the wound together with contact scorching would suggest the weapon was discharged at point-blank range. As you can see.
[Morse looks away in disgust]
DC Endeavour Morse: I'll take your word for it.
Dr. Max DeBryn: Squeamish, are we? You won't make much of a detective if you're not prepared to look death in the eye.
