Death Investigation: It's Not Exactly What You See on TV, Part 2

By Michelle Clark

[Originally published in First Draft, the Guppies newsletter.]

I teach a forensic science class at the University of Hartford and I instruct my students not to take what they see on television as reality. There are many aspects of analyzing death scenes that CSI doesn’t really cover, although it does try.

The first is what I like to call "smellivision." The smell of decomposed bodies is difficult to describe, but distinct. Once you smell it, you’ll never forget it. The best way I can explain it to my students is to ask if they have ever smelled a dead animal and suggest that they amplify that odor by about 130-fold, since most adult humans weigh at least 130 pounds or more.

My kids have smelled it, but don’t realize what the smell is. There are days where I have been to a bad decomp scene and when I get home they both squeeze their noses with their fingers and say “Ew, Mom, you smell like work.”

I can’t tell you how many weird looks I’ve gotten at sandwich shops after I leave a decomp scene and try to get something for lunch (yes, I can eat afterwards). The smell gets into everything - hair, clothes, etc. I keep several bottles of Febreeze in the trunk of my car.

Another misconception I try to clear up for my students is that I don’t show up at death scenes in fishnet stockings and high heels, packing heat. My wardrobe consists of jeans, work boots and either a long- or short-sleeved shirt. And, no, I don’t carry a weapon. That’s what the cops are for.

I have had to wade into small lakes and streams, dragging bodies to the shore with firemen - and trudged through water- and ash-drenched burned homes with fire inspectors to look at unidentifiable victims after fatal fires. I walked along railroad tracks picking up pieces, literally, of a man versus train accident. I’m sure you can guess who won. I scraped brain matter off of the highway from a motorcycle accident while my stomach growled because I'd missed breakfast. I climbed trees to help cut down hanging suicide victims and trampled into heavily wooded areas to look at a suicide victim with a gun shot wound to the head. In other words, my job can get very dirty and, at times, is physically demanding.

One thing that they never taught us in grad school was about the emotions of the people at the scenes. Death is obviously very traumatic for survivors, especially when it wasn’t anticipated. I go into people's homes after a loved one has hung or shot themselves. I try to be inconspicuous as I slip into a house filled with bereaved people, locate the officers and do my job as quietly and neatly as possible - but not always with success. Bodies tend to ooze when rolled over.

No one can prepare you for the bereaved father of a young victim or the grieving teenagers whose father hung himself, asking you why. They’ve never met me, but they look to me for answers. I do my best to console them and tell them it’s not their fault, but I’m sure they are so grief-stricken that they wouldn’t remember me the next day.

I’ve talked to family members whose eyes are glazed over in despair and indicated to the friend standing next to them to please repeat the information that I had provided at a later time.

Do I shut it all off? Sure. Am I a robot? No. Do I take my work home with me? No, and my family is my key to forgetting my bad day at work. Will I ever reach my limit? Maybe, but for now I take each day as a new experience and learn from it.

So how did I get to the Guppies chapter of Sisters in Crime? One of the ways I cope with my day is to write. I started more than a year ago, writing my experiences down, and ended up writing a 487-page manuscript. I have one mystery/paranormal/romance that is almost done and am working on a mystery/crime and a third project, a mystery/thriller.

How do I come up with these story lines? Let’s just say I have pretty vivid and scary dreams - all stemming from reality.

I wanted to learn more about the literary field - and what better place than here in SinC and swimming with the Guppies. I’m learning a lot, from the listserv and from the critique group that I am honored to be a part of through the Guppies (shout out to the M&M Writers critique group).

I hope I have given you a little introduction into my workday and what death investigators do, at least here in Connecticut. One of my students this semester asked me if I thought I could pull off the perfect crime. Smiling, I told him that there’s no such thing as the perfect crime. He'll just have to read about that when my books gets published.


Michelle Clark graduated from the University of Hartford in Connecticut with a B.S. in Medical Technology and earned a master’s degree in Forensic Science from the University of New Haven. She currently works as a Death Investigator for the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner in Connecticut. She is board-certified as a Medical Technologist and board-certified as a Molecular Biologist.

While her kids are a great distraction from her job, she finds that writing helps her escape. She tried her hand in the paranormal/romance/mystery genre and finished a 487-page manuscript called Haunted, which still needs to be cleaned up. She is at work on two more WIPs: Jurisdiction of Bodies, about a death investigator who finds herself in the midst of catching a killer in Connecticut, and Note to Self, a mystery/thriller about a CSI who’s getting calls on her answering machine in her own voice, telling her to kill herself.

Death Investigation: It's Not Exactly What You See on TV, Part 1 of 2 Parts

By Michelle Clark

[Originally published in First Draft, the Guppies newsletter.]

When I tell the other parents on the soccer field what I do for a living, they have several responses: “Wow, that must be really interesting,” or “That’s the coolest job ever” or the dreaded “What’s the grossest thing you’ve seen?”

In reply, I try to explain that what is gross to them isn’t exactly gross to me, avoiding the question especially if the kids are in earshot. There are reasons why the bodies at horrific car accidents are covered up with sheets. Do you really want to see? I can tell you I see it every day. But, don’t get me wrong, I love my job.

I realize I’m very lucky to have the job that I do. Since CSI, forensic science has been introduced to mainstream America - and the field has become flooded. I was very fortunate to not only get a job in the forensics field, but also to stay in Connecticut where my husband and two kids have become rooted.

My luck started when I was still in graduate school for forensic science and working as a molecular technician in a pathology laboratory in Hartford. At that time, I was hired as one of the first civilian crime scene technicians for the Waterbury Police Department. The 24/7 on-call schedule took a toll on my family so, with a sad heart, I left. I will admit, though, that I was happy afterward not to be called out every night to a crime scene.

Fortune fell on me again and a position for a death investigator at the medical examiner’s office opened up.

So what does a death investigator do? It varies from state to state, so I will let you know what I do in Connecticut - which is, by the way, a beautiful setting for any mystery novel.

I am one of 14 death investigators in Connecticut. Our main office, where all the autopsies take place, houses the toxicology lab - and my cubicle - in a three-story building in Farmington. The 14 of us are spread out into jurisdictions each day, to areas where we respond to any fatalities. These fatalities include all suicides, homicides, fatal accidents and fatal overdoses, etc. We respond to the scene, get as much information as we can regarding the circumstances from the police officers or family members, take photographs of the scene and examine the body to be sure that the information that we received matches the wounds we observe on the body.

Police personnel in Connecticut have become accustomed to waiting for me to arrive before touching the body so that we can go over the body slowly and meticulously together. The body is my jurisdiction. I help the police preserve as much evidence on the body as possible. If they want to take evidence off the body to keep from losing it in transit, I make notes of what they take and assist if necessary. I take all the information back to the office where I upload my pictures and write a brief report about the scene so that the medical examiner assigned to the case (we have four M.E.s) has a good idea of what’s going on before the autopsy.

And, no, I don’t remove the body from the scene. We have forensic techs to do that - or a trade service if the techs are busy.

Most of the autopsies are done the next day, unless there is a large number of cases or a backlog from the weekend. Mondays are usually crazy busy. There can be anywhere from one to 20 cases on the board requiring an autopsy. We have three autopsy tables and can do three autopsies at once. If it’s busy, the M.E.s will do a maximum of four cases, each, in one day.

We have a minimum of three forensic techs who assist the M.E.s with their cases (I call them the slicer-and-dicers) and a forensic photographer to document the autopsy. Every body that comes in for an autopsy gets a toxicology screen, regardless of the circumstances of the case.

I usually don’t observe the autopsy in my cases, unless it was something that I haven’t seen and am curious about. Unfortunately, there isn’t much that I haven’t seen.

When I’m not at scenes, I view bodies that are waiting to be cremated. In Connecticut, there is a law that all bodies being cremated have a 48-hour hold placed on them until they can be viewed by a death investigator. I drive from funeral home to funeral home, viewing bodies before they are cremated - so to say I see dead people all day is an understatement.

I am looking for anything suspicious, not just the obvious stab wounds or bullet holes, but bruising, signs of falls or anything traumatic. I can see anywhere from five to 25 bodies in one day for cremations - and that doesn’t include my getting called to a fatal scene. In January, I observed 114 bodies for cremation and went to eight scenes.

To be continued tomorrow...


Top photo by Ken Clark: Michelle Clark wearing an official Office of the Chief Medical Examiner shirt.

Bottom photo by Michelle Clark: The autopsy room at the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner in Connecticut.


Michelle Clark graduated from the University of Hartford in Connecticut with a B.S. in Medical Technology and earned a master’s degree in Forensic Science from the University of New Haven. She currently works as a Death Investigator for the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner in Connecticut. She is board-certified as a Medical Technologist and board-certified as a Molecular Biologist.

While her kids are a great distraction from her job, she finds that writing helps her escape. She tried her hand in the paranormal/romance/mystery genre and finished a 487-page manuscript called Haunted, which still needs to be cleaned up. She is at work on two more WIPs: Jurisdiction of Bodies, about a death investigator who finds herself in the midst of catching a killer in Connecticut, and Note to Self, a mystery/thriller about a CSI who’s getting calls on her answering machine in her own voice, telling her to kill herself.