"What color were the sheets?"

"What color were the sheets?"

"What?" "what color were the sheets?" I asked him again. "I don't know." so I asked "which side of the room was the closet on?" Again "I don't know." I didn't expect he would. Though Frank was several years my senior in age it was my task to train him how to do the job, and part of the job is being aware of your surroundings. It was his first death investigation and I have to say it was a good one for him to see. This very obese woman had decided she no longer wanted to be a part of this world so she lay down in her bed put a gun in her mouth and pulled the trigger.

It was a fairly gruesome scene. I remember walking into the house and being amazed at how clean it was, I guess the victim knew how many people would be tromping through her house so she had spent the day cleaning it. She was in a back bedroom laying in bed, the top of her head had a large hole in it and there was blood spattered up the wall along with several large chunks of brain, in fact it was so forceful that bits of the gray substance were also congealing on her nightstand and a large chunk was on the pillow next to her head. Frank didn't want to go in but he knew I wouldn't leave until he had. We stood in the room for several minutes not talking just looking around. Finally we left the residence and I began quizzing him. He couldn't tell me anything about the room other than all he saw was blood and brains.

"They were pink, and it was on the right" I said finally. He learns quickly because at the next similar incident he was stumping me with things he saw that I had missed.