What did Pete Hedges expect?  He was the new kid on the block and they assigned him to the South Precinct Morgue.  South Precinct, a resting place for no counts and no names.  Eighteen file drawers with stiffs of the same name:  John Doe.

     Number 6 took the prize:  The "cadaver" wasn't even dead.  He was just holding his breath.

     "Didn't like the flop house, ha?" Hedges laughed.  "I don't blame you.  Let's have a coffee and a smoke."

     "Let's," the guy said.

     "Do you have a name?" Hedges asked.

     "Name's John."

     "As in Doe?  Forget I even asked," Hedges grinned and took a puff.