"What's with all the laughter? They've never seen naked people before?"

"I'm sure it's because they've never seen a public beach before. Remember. They're from Iowa."

Sonya's voice came over the loudspeaker again. "t.i.tisee-Neustadt is a spa town. The gla.s.s-fronted building you see ahead of you is where people are treated for obesity, asthma, chronic bronchitis, allergies, metabolic diseases, and physical and emotional exhaustion."

"Is that place coed, or do you have to get naked in a room with your own kind?" yelled d.i.c.k Ra.s.smuson.

Sonya blew a disgusted breath into the loudspeaker and clicked it off in an obvious snit. I suspected that marked the end of her narration. I heard the engine cut as we neared the sh.o.r.e, and we got jostled a little as the vessel b.u.mped against the rubber tires on the dock. The captain a.s.sisted each of us out of the boat and as we followed Wally toward the town center, I breathed a sigh of relief that the excursion across the lake had gone off without incident. All that concern for nothing. I'd become too much of a worrywart. I needed to chill out more.

Wally stopped in the middle of the pedestrian walkway with instructions. "Those of you who are interested in seeing how cuckoo clocks are made can see a demonstration with me in five minutes. The rest of you can explore the town and meet the bus in the parking lot at the end of this road at two o'clock."

I didn't want to know how cuckoo clocks were made. If I got curious, I could dismantle one of the clocks Bernice had stockpiled in my room. She'd never miss it. I did want to do some shopping, I wanted to eat, and I wanted to keep tabs on the Teigs, Ra.s.smusons, Stolees, and Bernice. If they had any surprises planned, I wanted to be three steps ahead of them.

"Bernice and me are goin' to that cuckoo clock demonstration." Nana tugged on my sleeve to make sure I heard. "The place is probably gonna be really crowded, but we'll try to wrestle our way down front so we'll be in full view in full view of everythin' and you won't have to worry 'bout us missin' nothin'." She waggled her eyebrows in an overstated gesture which I took to mean, of everythin' and you won't have to worry 'bout us missin' nothin'." She waggled her eyebrows in an overstated gesture which I took to mean, There's safety in numbers, dear. Don't worry about me. There's safety in numbers, dear. Don't worry about me. And she was right, of course. She wasn't a child. I couldn't tether her to my wrist to appease my anxiety. And she was right, of course. She wasn't a child. I couldn't tether her to my wrist to appease my anxiety.

"You gonna be all right on your own?" she asked me.

I gave her a thumbs-up and patted the pocket that contained my Swiss Army knife. "I'll be fine." But the cuckoo clock business reminded me that I hadn't heard a word about the disposition of Andy's body. Had they shipped him back to Iowa already or was he going to fly back with the rest of us? I made a mental note to ask Etienne. It would give me the perfect excuse to call him. Maybe he'd have the fingerprint results on Shirley Angowski's camera bag today. I hoped so. All these unanswered questions were making me as cuckoo as some of the clocks around here.

The streets and sidewalks were crowded with tourists eating ice-cream cones, pushing baby strollers, and toting shopping bags. Most of our group followed Wally to the cuckoo demonstration, but the Ra.s.smusons, Teigs, Stolees, and Jane Hanson ventured off down the street toward the spa, so that's where I ventured, too. I'd never tailed anyone before, but it was pretty much a no-brainer. All I had to do was mingle with the crowd and stay far enough behind them so I wasn't being too obvious.

They wandered into a couple of shops specializing in wine, cheese, and sausage. I got hungry smelling sausage fumes, so I bought an ice cream and sat on a bench on the opposite side of the road. When they reappeared, they caught my eye, waved, and continued down the road. I was a little concerned about the wave. Were they feigning friendliness or were they on to me? Whatever. I headed down the road behind them.

Near the Spa they detoured into another shop. When I got close enough, I saw that it was a cafeteria-type eatery, which meant, they were going to be in there for a long time. I gnawed on my cone, wondering what to do. Should I go in there after them, or should I look for a pair of shoes to replace the ones I'd ruined last night? Hmm. The ice cream hadn't filled me up. Maybe I should have some Black Forest cake to top it off. That sounded good. And if they accused me of following them, I could tell them it was a free country. I thought about that for a moment. Germany was free. Wasn't it? I entered the cafeteria, promising myself I'd brush up on international politics when I got back to Iowa.

I grabbed a tray and wandered around the many colorful food islands, having no idea what much of the food was since it was labeled in German. No pizza. No spaghetti. No fried chicken. No Iowa pork chops. They did have serve-yourself soft-serve ice cream with sprinkles, and cherries, and nuts, but since I'd already been the ice-cream route, I loaded my tray with some other awesome-looking desserts and headed for the cashier.

The d.i.c.ks et al had pushed two tables together and were digging into their food when I pa.s.sed them on my way to an empty table. d.i.c.k Stolee looked up at me with his hideously deformed zucchini nose. Ouch. He was making the Elephant Man look good. "Are you following us?" he asked.

I smiled nervously. "Of course I'm following you."

"Why?"

"Because you're stopping at all the places where I want to stop. Would you rather have me get ahead of you? Then you can follow me."

Lucille and Helen exchanged glances as if they wished they'd thought of the idea. d.i.c.k narrowed his gaze at me. "Just don't get too close," he warned.

I smiled again. "Enjoy your meal."

I kept my eye on their table as I plowed through my plates of pastry. They sampled each other's food a lot and took turns snapping pictures of each other at the table. d.i.c.k Stolee wandered around the food islands with his camcorder and came back with a tray of coffee for everyone. They drank, talked, laughed, and drank some more. Then Jane and Grace disappeared for several minutes and returned with a tray of ice cream sundaes.

"I've changed my mind," I heard Lucille say. "I'd rather have sprinkles than nuts."

Her husband plopped the sundae in front of her. "If you change your order, everyone else's order gets messed up. You ordered nuts, you eat nuts."

She skated the bowl back at him. "I don't want nuts."

"There's no keeping you happy, is there? Too d.a.m.n bad. Nuts is what you're getting." He shoved it back in her direction.

"Excuse me?" she snapped. "I don't remember anyone making you emperor. Does someone else want my nuts?"

"I'm kind of a cherry man myself," said d.i.c.k Teig.

"Me too," d.i.c.k Stolee added quickly.

I suspected both d.i.c.ks preferred nuts over cherries but were too h.o.m.ophobic to admit it.

"Jane?" Lucille implored.

Jane shook her head. "I'm allergic to nuts."

"So's Lucille," said her husband. "At least my my nuts. She didn't seem to have a problem with Andy's though." nuts. She didn't seem to have a problem with Andy's though."

Gasps all around the table. "That was uncalled for," said Helen.

Lucille propelled the sundae back at d.i.c.k. "I wouldn't eat that now if you paid paid me, you miserable lowlife." me, you miserable lowlife."

"Two-timer."

"Skinflint."

"s.l.u.t."

I watched the sundae shoot back and forth between them and wondered what was going to break out first: a fistfight or a food fight.

Lucille shot out of her chair, causing it to crash backward onto the floor. "s.l.u.t? How dare you!" She picked up the dish of ice cream. She glared at her husband. Okay. My money was on the food fight. d.i.c.k Stolee reached for his camcorder.

"Press one b.u.t.ton on that camcorder, and I'll break your arm," Grace threatened. She got to her feet to join Lucille. "It's bad enough d.i.c.k Ra.s.smuson has to air his dirty laundry in public, but you're not going to encourage him by getting it on tape!"

"The h.e.l.l you say," said d.i.c.k, who whipped the camera up to his eye and aimed it at his wife. "No one's going to tell me what I can or can't record. This is Grace under pressure. Boy, she looks like she's gonna blow."

Grace picked up her coffee cup and fired the contents at the camcorder. "Grace!" screamed her husband as he sloughed coffee off his face. "You idiot! If you've ruined my camera, I'm going to be so so p.i.s.sed! Napkins. I need napkins!" p.i.s.sed! Napkins. I need napkins!"

"Why don't you use your toupee?" said Lucille. "It's the closest thing to a mop around here."

Grace gave Lucille a high five. Helen and Jane stood up in a show of force. "I saw a pharmacy a few doors down," said Jane to the ladies. "I recommend we wander over and check out the prices."

Lucille dropped her dish of ice cream back onto the table. "I don't know who you think you're going to sit with on the trip back to Lucerne," she spat at her husband, "but it's not going to be me. Come on, girls."

"Don't flatter yourself!" d.i.c.k Ra.s.smuson raved, as the women huffed away from the table. "I'd rather walk walk back to Lucerne than sit on the bus beside you!" back to Lucerne than sit on the bus beside you!"

Unh-oh. Wally was not not going to be happy about the change in seat a.s.signments. The d.i.c.ks, on the other hand, looked thrilled about the sudden change in seating. Or maybe they were just happy about all the unclaimed ice cream in front of them. Before the women were out the door, they'd divvied up the seven sundaes among themselves and began scarfing down sprinkles and cherries. They weren't completely out of touch. Even in Iowa, soft-serve tended to melt fast. going to be happy about the change in seat a.s.signments. The d.i.c.ks, on the other hand, looked thrilled about the sudden change in seating. Or maybe they were just happy about all the unclaimed ice cream in front of them. Before the women were out the door, they'd divvied up the seven sundaes among themselves and began scarfing down sprinkles and cherries. They weren't completely out of touch. Even in Iowa, soft-serve tended to melt fast.

d.i.c.k Ra.s.smuson caught my eye and held up the odd bowl. "Last one. You want it?"

I waved him off. "Couldn't eat another thing."

He shrugged and ate it himself. When they got up to leave, he caught my eye again, clutched his chest, and hung his tongue out the corner of his mouth. This was getting old real real fast. "You need another schtick," I called out. "Go away. Leave me alone." fast. "You need another schtick," I called out. "Go away. Leave me alone."

With the group in fragments, I didn't feel so impelled to keep my eye on them. I suspected they were too annoyed with each other to implement their plot against me. A successful murder attempt would require both cooperation and coordination, and cooperation wasn't what was happening with the d.i.c.ks and their wives this afternoon. Gee. What a shame. I guess I'd be forced to fritter away the rest of my day in some of the little boutiques that lined the main street.

A half hour later, armed with a stack of postcards and some souvenirs for my nephews, I found my way onto the lawn of the spa and dug my camera out of my shoulder bag. No sense letting the sun go to waste. I put a bead on the lake and the surrounding mountains. CLICK. The sightseeing boat that was docked at the pier. CLICK. The base of a hooped barrel that looked as if it might be used for outdoor baths. CLICK. Three men sneaking around the corner of the spa with cameras at the ready. Hmm. I lowered my camera. What a surprise. The three d.i.c.ks. I could imagine the headlines of the Windsor City Register Windsor City Register should someone catch them--"Snoopy d.i.c.ks Branded Peeping Toms in German Spa Town." should someone catch them--"Snoopy d.i.c.ks Branded Peeping Toms in German Spa Town."

I let fly a whistle that spun them around and had them scampering across the lawn toward me like wayward puppies. Stolee and Teig arrived first. "How's the scenery down there?" I asked. "Finding a lot of Kodak moments, are you?"

d.i.c.k Teig spoke under his breath. "Look, Emily, it's not every day you stumble across naked babes like this. The guys back home won't believe it. So if you could keep it under your hat until we show them the pictures."

"What about your wives?"

d.i.c.k Ra.s.smuson pulled up the rear. He must have seen something that scared him because his hands were trembling. "What about our wives?" he asked.

Duh? "What do you think they're going to say about your extracurricular activities?"

"They'll never find out," he rasped. "Not unless you tell them. You're not gonna do that, are you? Man, is it hot out here or is it just me?" d.i.c.k Ra.s.smuson was sure out of shape. A little jog like that had gotten him all out of breath.

d.i.c.k Teig elbowed him in the ribs. "Probably the scenery that has you so worked up. Hubba hubba."

I gave them my sternest schoolmarm look. "Okay, you guys, if you leave right now, I won't tell your wives. If you don't, all bets are off."

"Party p.o.o.p," said d.i.c.k Teig.

"Might as well go," groused d.i.c.k Stolee. "My camcorder's not working right anyway."

d.i.c.k Ra.s.smuson urged the two along. "Go on without me. I'll catch up as soon as I catch my breath." He placed his hand over his heart. "My chest's really pounding, Emily."

"You suppose it's the big one?"

"I need to sit down. Maybe I need a cigar."

The man never gave up. "You do that. But you better not stay long because I'll be back to make sure you're not doing any more snooping."

He sat down on a nearby bench and ma.s.saged his abdomen. "I don't feel so good. I could use some serious mouth-to-mouth."

How gullible did he think I was? Did he think I'd been born yesterday? "Nice try, d.i.c.k. You might want to consider some daily aerobic exercise though. It might help with the shortness of breath thing."

I spent the next forty-five minutes in a ladies' boutique named Toni Heim, trying to convince myself not to buy a cute little boiled wool jacket that cost more than the national debt. In the end I bought it anyway. The exchange rate made it cheaper than it would be back in the States, so I reasoned it was more like the national debt of Liechtenstein than the United States. Liechtenstein was a small country. I could afford Liechtenstein.

I practically had a head-on collision with Nana when I walked out the door of the boutique. I grabbed hold of her so as not to knock her down. "You're going someplace in a hurry," I laughed.

"I'm headin' back to the bus for a nap. I'm all used up. But I can't figure what did me in--sittin' in the hospital waiting room 'til the wee hours a the mornin', or those three Shirley Temples I knocked back at the chateau last night. Don't tell your mother about the c.o.c.ktails. She don't think a woman a my advanced years should be drinkin' ardent spirits."

I made a gesture of b.u.t.toning my lip. "It'll be our secret. But, Nana, a Shirley Temple is nonalcoholic. It's not that potent."

"At seventy-eight, strawberry Ovaltine can be potent."

"I'm not sure the bus will be open if you head back to the parking lot." I yanked my Swiss Army knife out of my coat pocket to check the time. "We still have another hour before we leave. I'm going to head over to the spa grounds, sit on a bench, and write out a few postcards. You're welcome to come with me and take a nap on the bench."

"Lead the way."

"Where's Bernice?"

"She's staked a claim on a table at a little outdoor cafe where she says she's gonna stay 'til just before the bus leaves. She's been doin' too much walkin'. Her bunions are killin' her."

We dodged tourists and scurried out of the path of strollers as we headed toward the lake. When the spa came into view, I noticed a man on the bench where d.i.c.k Ra.s.smuson had been sitting when I left. As we drew closer, I realized my lecture had fallen on deaf ears because the man sitting on the bench was was d.i.c.k Ra.s.smuson. He'd probably been getting an eyeful for the last forty-five minutes and acting like a real jerk. d.i.c.k Ra.s.smuson. He'd probably been getting an eyeful for the last forty-five minutes and acting like a real jerk.

I stomped in front of him. "Okay, d.i.c.k. Hand over your film." I was probably overstepping my bounds as an escort, but it was worth a try. Maybe I'd catch him in a weak moment.

d.i.c.k didn't respond. His head was hanging forward on his chest, like he was taking a nap, but his eyes were wide-open. Unh-oh.

Nana bent down to look at him. "You s'pose he knocked back one too many Shirley Temples last night, too?"

His skin looked kind of purple and waxy, his lips were really pale, and his hands were tinged blue. I tapped him on the shoulder. "d.i.c.k?"

No response. I was getting a very bad feeling about this. I pressed my fingers to his neck. His skin was still warm, but he had no pulse. I stepped back from the body and grabbed Nana's hand. "I don't want to jump to any conclusions, but what does this look like to you?"

"Looks like a dead d.i.c.k."

Chapter 12.

"That's what it looks like to me, too." I sucked in a resigned breath and struggled to remain calm. "He's dead." When I said the words aloud, the full impact of the situation hit me. "OH MY G.o.d! HE'S DEAD! This is all my fault! He said he didn't feel well. He said his chest was pounding. He said he needed mouth-to-mouth. I didn't believe him! I could have saved him! Oh my G.o.d. I killed him!"

"The man dropped dead, Emily. We're old. It happens."

She had a point. But still, "You don't think I'm to blame?"

"I think all those cigars he smoked was to blame."

That made me feel a little better. I c.o.c.ked my head to look at him from another angle. "What do you suppose killed him?"

"Looks like he had the big one."

Nana was probably right. There was no blood. No visible bruising. No obvious gunshot wounds. He had a heart condition. He'd probably suffered a heart attack. I mean, according to Shirley Angowski, he'd already been playing with fire by taking pills for impotence with his heart medication. That made him a prime candidate for a heart attack. Unless...

I sucked in my breath again. Unless someone had poisoned him with the same dimethyl sulfate that had killed Andy and made his death look look like a heart attack. Oh my G.o.d! Was d.i.c.k Ra.s.smuson the killer's third victim? like a heart attack. Oh my G.o.d! Was d.i.c.k Ra.s.smuson the killer's third victim?

Okay. I was really creeped out now. "I need to find Wally," I said in a rush of breath.

"He had lunch at the same outdoor cafe that Bernice and me ate at. Maybe he's still there."

"You want to come with me?"

"I better stay here with the body."