Hello, my name is Doctor Henry Morgan, and I've been immortal since some utter asshole shot me and tossed me off my daddy's slave ship two hundred years ago. What I mean by immortal is that when I die, it doesn't stick. Every time I get shot, run over, kicked in the head by a horse, trip over a railing and fall into an industrial sized vat of boiling peppermint and so on and so forth, I wake up stark naked in a nearby body of water despite the fact that my clothes and everything that I happened to be carrying in my pockets at the time mysteriously vanish from the scene of my death along with me. Usually, I wake up in a lake, river, or even the ocean, but in a city of nearly eight and a half million souls, I have been known to wake up in the sewer system during times of particularly high water usage, and have been known to wake up in the storm sewers during periods of heavy rain. Despite the fact that I have the life expectancy of a snowball in hell here and it is only a matter of time before there is a montage of the many deaths of that weird guy who keeps swimming in the East River naked posted on Youtube, I have made my home in New York where I have managed to finagle a supervisory position in the Medical Examiner's office despite my forged documentation, my two-hundred year long rap sheet which includes over seven-hundred public indecency charges, and the fact that I'm a registered sex offender in three states.

When you want to study death so you don't have to live after an incident like the one in 1857, you go where the dead guys are. At least in theory, it makes sense. Well, if you've tried just about every other method and are just grasping at straws like I am...

His customary mental monologue which he goes through every Tuesday for some strange reason over, Dr. Henry Morgan got down to business and started cutting into a corpse despite the fact that a simple external examination had rendered Suicide as the cause of death, making an autopsy completely unnecessary.

Elsewhere:

Two officers were slowly strolling along the East River on foot patrol. One older, and the other obviously fresh out of the Police Academy.

"And finally, I'll tell you what my first partner told me on my first day on the job, and his first partner told him, and his first partner told him going back until God only knows when" the older officer who was instructing the younger said. "If you see a six foot tall white male between the ages of thirty-five and forty with short curly brown hair and brown eyes crawl out of the river naked, pretend you don't know what's going on."

"Why?" the younger officer asked looking as if he thought what his partner said was a particularly unfunny joke.

"He's been doing that for at least two centuries, and we don't want to find out what else he's capable of the hard way." the first officer replied. "As long as the good doctor thinks we don't know..."

"Seriously?!" the younger officer said. "You seriously expect me to believe that the old urban legend about the Riverman is real, and that..."

SPLASH!

Splashsplashsplashsplashsplashsplashsplash!

"Bloody rocks! Damn railing!... $%$#%&##$ ^%^ Bicycle Messenger! May he catch the pox and die a most unsightly death! I only get about ten minutes for lunch, and...Oh, hello officers, I was just..."

"Going for another sleep swim doctor?" the first officer said as the Doctor assumed the position and allowed the younger to cuff him.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I was." Dr. Henry Morgan replied.

"I suggest you avoid taking afternoon naps in the future." the first officer said as he helped the second haul the Medical Examiner into a cruiser that had arrived despite the fact that neither man had radioed in to summon it. This happened so often that the local precinct had the routine down pat and sent someone out the second the first call about a naked guy in the East River came in.

Once the good doctor Morgan was in the cruiser and on his way to the nearby station with a minimum of fuss and a minimum of disturbance to the nearby tourists, the younger officer turned to the first.

"So, are the alligators real too?" the second asked, looking slightly shaken.

"No." the first said. "But the monster goldfish that got fished out in the '30s was."

The two officers turned back to their patrol, the second looking as if his entire world had been turned upside-down.

"I hear they recently teamed the Riverman up with the only officer on the force who doesn't know it's him." the first said, trying to draw the younger out of whatever corner he'd mentally curled up in.