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The Chronology Protection Case Paul Levinson Carl put the call through just as I was packing up for the day. "She says she's some kind of physicist," he said, and although I rarely took calls from the public, I jumped on this one. "Dr. D'Amato?" she asked. "Yes?" "I saw you on television last week-on that cable talk show. You said you had a passion for physics." Her voice had a breathy elegance. "True," I said. Forensic science was my profession, but cutting edge physics was my love. Too bad there wasn't a way to nab rapist murderers with spectral traces. "And you're a physicist?" I asked. "Oh yes, sorry," she said. "I should introduce myself. I'm Lauren Goldring. Do you know my work?" "Ahm . . . " The name did sound familiar. I ran though the Rolodex in my head, though these days my computer was becoming more reliable than my brain. "Yes!" I snapped my fingers. "You had an article in Scientific American |
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