Hmm. This was handy. "I want another room."

"The hotel is offering offering you another room!" you another room!"

"I want a good room. A really good room." I poked my finger into his sternum. "A standard room."

"A standard room. You want a standard room? I'll get you a standard room. Now, do you promise to be out by one?" I nodded agreement. He looked me up and down. "Is that what you're planning to wear today?"

Okay. So I hadn't had time to dress like Audrey Hepburn this morning. Middle of the night wake-ups tended to skew my fashion sense. But I allowed no one to insult my Green Bay Packers sweatshirt. The Packers were former world champions. "I was planning to wear my beaded Vera w.a.n.g, but wouldn't you know, the zipper broke."

"Look, Miss Andrew, Triangle Tours has an image to maintain, so if you could manage something more professional, you'd make my life a whole lot easier."

"Make your your life easier? Hey, I've been mooned by somebody's grandfather, pummeled by a killer shower, grossed out by a dead man, and treated to famine conditions at breakfast. And the kicker is, I paid three thousand dollars for the privilege!" life easier? Hey, I've been mooned by somebody's grandfather, pummeled by a killer shower, grossed out by a dead man, and treated to famine conditions at breakfast. And the kicker is, I paid three thousand dollars for the privilege!"

"Memories, Miss Andrew. Think of the stories you'll have to tell the grandchildren."

"I don't have have grandchildren. I have goldfish." grandchildren. I have goldfish."

Wally tapped the crystal of his watch. "I may be running a little fast. What time do you have?"

"My watch died."

"Couldn't have happened in a better place. Bucherer is right down the street from here."

"What's Bucherer?"

"Only the premiere shop for watches in Europe. The bus is going to leave us off right in front of it this morning. You're on the payroll now. Live a little."

Normally, when my day started out this poorly, I'd pop a couple of Hershey Kisses(r) to lift my spirits. But since I was fresh out of chocolate, maybe I'd have to settle for a new watch and hope it had the same effect. Wally was right. I was on the payroll now, and this was was Switzerland. I'd be crazy to pa.s.s up a chance to buy a really good cheap Swiss watch. Switzerland. I'd be crazy to pa.s.s up a chance to buy a really good cheap Swiss watch.

"We're due to leave in twelve minutes," Wally said. "If you're going to change your clothes, you'd better get moving."

With the prospects of a shopping spree making the day appear a little brighter, I took the stairs two at a time and sprinted down the corridor toward room 3310. A couple of uniformed policemen outside Andy's room did their best to ignore me as I plugged the key into the doork.n.o.b and turned the k.n.o.b...again, and again, and again. I made a growling sound.

"Do you need help with that, Madame?" one of the policemen inquired.

"Please. I only have ten minutes before my bus leaves."

He reinserted the key and turned the k.n.o.b. CLICK.

"There's a trick to this, isn't there?" I accused.

"I don't think so, Madame." He nodded politely and returned to his colleague. I flew into the room, throwing off my sweatshirt on the run. I shrugged into an aubergine cashmere sweater set, then ripped off my jeans and hopped into slim black cigarette pants and chunky heeled shoes. Wally wanted professional? I'd show him professional. I ran into the bathroom to brush my teeth, applied lipstick and blush, threw on my raincoat, grabbed Nana's raincoat and our umbrellas, then raced back out the door. On the first floor I dropped the room key into the box at the front desk, then dashed out into the cold October mist and drizzle.

Wally stood beneath the protection of his umbrella outside the open door of the bus. When he saw me, he made a hurry-up gesture. "You're the last one. All the Rhode Islanders are even here. Let's go."

I gave him my version of the evil eye and jogged past him up the stairs of the bus. Scattered applause as I appeared. A few grumbles. "I told you we were going to have to wait for her," Solvay Bakke groused, as I maneuvered down the aisle toward where Nana was sitting. I slid in beside her, winded and sweating, and handed her her raincoat and umbrella.

"That was sweet a you to go back to the room for my things, Emily."

"Maybe our new room will be closer to the lobby," I said, gasping.

"New room? What happened to the old one?"

"Police orders. We have to pack up and move when we get back from our tour of the city. But Wally promised we'll have a much nicer room this time, so the move will be worth it. And I'll help you pack your things so it won't be such a ha.s.sle for you."

The bus driver revved the engine. The doors closed. We nosed out into traffic. Wally stood at the front of the bus, talking into the loud speaker.

"The bus will leave us off at the Schwanenplatz, Schwanenplatz, also known as Swan Square. You'll have a half hour to browse through some of the shops before we meet in front of the Bucherer store for our walking tour. Our local guide's name is Sonya, and she knows everything there is to know about Lucerne, so don't be afraid to ask her." also known as Swan Square. You'll have a half hour to browse through some of the shops before we meet in front of the Bucherer store for our walking tour. Our local guide's name is Sonya, and she knows everything there is to know about Lucerne, so don't be afraid to ask her."

We pa.s.sed lampposts hung with baskets of pink and purple flowers, old stone hotels swathed in mist, shrubs clipped with military neatness, and a steady stream of morning traffic. It was obvious we weren't in Iowa anymore. There were no combines toodling down the road at ten miles per hour. No field cultivators hogging both sides of the highway. No sport utility vehicles spinning off into the ditch as they gunned past the farm vehicles.

"Lake Lucerne is on your left," Wally announced. "There's a promenade along the lake that'll take you right into the center of town. Mount Pilatus is across the lake. It's seven thousand feet high and is a pretty spectacular sight. The entire lake is surrounded by mountains."

At the moment, the entire lake was surrounded by fog. Not exactly a Kodak moment, but that didn't stop d.i.c.k Stolee from whipping out his camcorder in the seat in front of us and pointing it out the window. "Mount Pilatus and Lake Lucerne," he narrated into the microphone. I guess he wanted to make sure he didn't confuse this fog with the fog he'd shot from the window of the plane when we'd left Chicago.

We pa.s.sed a building called the Hotel Montana, which seemed geographically misplaced here in Switzerland, but since it put me in mind of Shirley Angowski, I looked toward the back of the bus to see if I could spy her.

"Pssst." Nana elbowed me. When I turned to her, she nodded toward d.i.c.k Stolee's head. "When I first moved to Windsor City, he had a bald spot at his crown," she whispered. "I know 'cause him and Grace always used to sit in front a me in church at the eleven o'clock Ma.s.s. Then I switched to the five o'clock service on Sat.u.r.day. Now the bald spot's gone. He's wearin' a rug, and a pretty good one, too. Musta bought it new for the trip."

My big purchase for the trip had been a new Kevlar umbrella with an unbreakable exoskeleton. If it didn't rain, I could use it to fend off bullets. Red, to match my raincoat. And best of all, it was automatic.

"I wonder how he keeps the thing on?" Nana puzzled. "I saw somethin' on one of them news magazines once where a man had metal snaps sewn into his scalp so's he could snap his hairpiece on. You suppose d.i.c.k went that route?"

I didn't remember him setting off the alarm at the security checkpoints in Des Moines or Chicago, so it didn't seem likely. I studied his hair with a critical eye. "It looks pretty authentic to me, Nana. Are you sure it's fake?"

"When a man d.i.c.k Stolee's age sprouts a whole new crop a hair, it's not real. It's synthetic. Maybe he had Velcro strips implanted in his head. Velcro would keep a hairpiece on real good."

As we drove past an elegant pale yellow building that was the size of a city block, Wally spoke into the loudspeaker. "The structure on our left is the Casino. Some of you might want to try your luck at the gaming tables some night, but you'll need to dress. Sport coats for the men. Sunday dresses for the ladies. The twin spires on your right are part of the Collegiate Church and date from the thirteenth century. The cathedral itself was completed in 1633. The other church of note in the area is the Jesuit Church which was built between 1666 and 1673. Sonya will be taking you there this morning."

My eyes started to glaze over with the onslaught of historic dates. I hoped he didn't intend to test us on the information later.

The bus made a right-hand turn into an area reserved for tour buses. "Our bus is number 222," Wally reminded us, as we popped out of our seats. "We'll board from this spot at twelve-fifteen. And remember, at nine-forty we'll gather in front of Bucherer to begin our walking tour."

As we left the bus, the wind picked up, blowing rain into our faces and chill air down our necks. "Wind's a good sign," said d.i.c.k Stolee, whose hair remained unruffled in the gale. "Maybe it'll blow the fog away. What time are we supposed to board the bus again?"

"Two-twenty-two," said Grace.

d.i.c.k Ra.s.smuson snugged on his seed-corn hat and pulled a cigar out of his pocket. "I heard him say nine-forty."

"I thought nine-forty was the year they built that church back there," said d.i.c.k Teig, who would like to have donned a seed-corn hat, but the only thing big enough to fit over his head was an airplane hangar.

I rolled my eyes. The d.i.c.ks had better hope we weren't going to be tested either. As the newly appointed escort to the Windsor City group, I thought it my duty to intervene. "Our bus number is 222. We leave on our walking tour at nine-forty. We board the bus again at twelve-fifteen."

"We only have a half hour until the walking tour begins," fretted Helen Teig. Her eyebrows formed such perfect arches today, they almost looked real.

Lucille Ra.s.smuson gnawed her bottom lip with worry. "We'd better wait in front of that store Wally talked about so we'll be on time."

"But you have a whole thirty minutes!" I reasoned. "You could get out of the rain. Browse. Buy a cup of coffee."

"Too risky," said d.i.c.k Ra.s.smuson, who angled his umbrella over Lucille's head, lit up his cigar, and herded the other two d.i.c.ks and their wives through the rain toward the meeting place.

"Well, I'm not gonna stand out here in the rain," Nana informed me. "Bernice and me are gonna find us a chocolate shop. This is good weather for chocolate. You don't have to worry about it meltin'. You wanna come with us?"

I shook my head. "I need to see a man about a watch."

Bucherer dazzled. Opulence. Glitter. Crystal chandeliers. Gleaming display cases. Precious gems set in eighteen-karat gold and platinum. Mont Blanc pens. Reuge music boxes. After receiving directions from a clerk on the ground floor, I climbed the stairs to the watch department on the first floor. Clerks abounded behind a maze of gla.s.s counters--tall, slender, unsmiling clerks with no-nonsense faces. I inched my way toward one of the nearest counters and scanned the mult.i.tude of watches displayed on blue velvet trays.

"May I help you, Madame?" The woman looked anorexic. She was dressed in a body-hugging black dress, had a thin red slash of a mouth, and wore her hair pulled back so severely from her face, her eyes slanted halfway to her ears. Blinking was probably a major undertaking.

"I'd like to buy a watch," I said.

"Of course." With cool disdain and an elegance of movement, she unlocked the case in front of her and withdrew a tray of ladies' watches. "This is a very nice timepiece. An eighteen-karat gold Piaget. You'll note the diamonds encrusted in the bracelet and around the case frame. This sells for 36,110 Swiss francs."

I didn't have to do the conversion to American dollars to figure out I could buy a small house for the same price. I nodded. "There's no second hand. I need a watch with a second hand." A whopping lie, but it allowed me to maintain my dignity.

One of her eyebrows arched imperceptibly, no small feat considering the rest of her face hadn't moved at all. "Very well." Into the case went the Piaget tray. Out came another. "This is a popular model called the Lady Datejust. The bezel is diamond-set. The dial is mother-of-pearl with rubies. It's an eighteen-karat gold Rolex and sells for 29,400 Swiss francs."

I wrestled with the possibility that I could be in the wrong place. "Did you say gold? I can't wear gold. It turns my skin green. Do you have something a little less fancy?"

"How much less fancy?"

"Say, something that straps to your wrist and tells time?"

She shoved the tray into the case and yanked out another. "This is called Paradiso and is made by Bucherer. It has a sapphire crystal, three interchangeable leather bracelets, and sells for 580 Swiss francs."

We were getting closer. "How much is that in American dollars?"

She punched a few numbers on a nearby calculator. "Three hundred fifty-three dollars and eighty cents."

Three months' worth of groceries. Hmm. "Do you carry Timex?"

I caught up with Nana and Bernice just as the group was departing the area for the city tour. I b.u.t.toned the top b.u.t.ton of my tomato red raincoat and pulled my hood over my head for warmth, but there was no hiding from the wind. I was already starting to shiver.

"Did you find a watch?" Nana asked.

"I sure did," I said proudly. "And it's a beauty."

Bernice didn't find my enthusiasm contagious. "Did they forget to set the time for you? You almost missed the tour. Then what would you have done?"

Right. Like there was a chance I could lose thirty name-tagged, white-haired, camera-toting seniors wearing Pioneer Seed Corn hats and schlepping canvas bags with TRIANGLE TOURS stamped eighteen thousand times on the front and back. But I couldn't be upset with Bernice. If I'd woken up this morning with bags the size of craters under my eyes, I'd be grumpy, too.

"What do you think?" I asked Nana as I flashed my wrist in front of her face.

She made a little whistling sound through her dentures. "Gucci. Looks expensive."

"The clerk said the magic word."

"Half price?"

"Water-resistant." So what if it was going to set me back three months rent? At least I could walk past the shower in the hotel now without breaking out in a cold sweat. Besides, the clerk hadn't believed I could spring for one of her watches, so I needed to prove that I could sink into debt just as well as the next guy. Boy, did I show her!

We snaked our way down a cobblestoned alley whose storefront windows sported the latest fall fashions on mannequins who looked more anorexic than the salesclerk in Bucherer. I had a sneaking suspicion Lane Bryant didn't do much business in Lucerne. We stopped in an open courtyard and vied for position around a woman I couldn't see for the sea of umbrellas in front of me. "Good morning!" she called out to us. "My name is Sonya." She spoke with a heavy accent that sounded kind of Russian to me. Or maybe Swedish. Somewhere close by I heard a high-pitched humming like a smoke alarm going off.

"What's that noise?" I whispered to Nana.

"Bernice's hearin' aid. Her battery must be gettin' low. Always sounds like her head's gonna blow up when that happens."

"Is anyone having trouble hearing me?" Sonya shouted.

Not now, but I would if Bernice's head decided to explode. Time to move to a better spot. I circled around the back of the crowd and stopped in front of a stone fountain that stood in the middle of the square.

"We're standing on the site of..." SPLAT SPLAT SPLAT! The rain pelting the cobblestones drowned out her voice. I cupped my ear to hear better.

"...built in 1178..." SPISHHHHHHHHHH! The fountain behind me geysered into life like an open hydrant, spewing cataracts of water in eight different directions. I hurried closer to the crowd.

"...it's the oldest..." WORRRRRRRRRSH! A man with a garden hose started power blasting the cobblestones beside me. WORRRRRRRRRSH! I leaped out of the way to avoid the spray. Good time to be washing down the pavement. I guess he figured a driving rain wouldn't do the job well enough for him. WORRRRRRRRRSH! This was nice. Not only couldn't I see see our local guide, I couldn't our local guide, I couldn't hear hear her anymore either. her anymore either.

"Can you hear anything?" Jane Hanson appeared beside me, hunched beneath her umbrella and shivering in the cold.

"What I've gotten so far is that this place is old."

"If Andy were here, he'd know." Jane was dressed for the weather in a fatigue green belted raincoat that looked as if she'd picked it up at the Salvation Army Thrift Shop, a plastic rain bonnet, white bucks on her feet, and a camera bag over her shoulder. All she was missing was a sign around her neck that said, TOURIST. She raised her voice to be heard above the background noise. "Andy came into the drugstore last week and told me he'd done a lot of reading about the area. The Ra.s.smusons and Teigs teased him about his cushy job, but he was very serious about his escort duties. I can't believe he's gone. He was one of our best customers. We issued him a Preferred Customer card only last year. The platinum version."

She looked genuinely sad as she continued. "I hope they don't discover that drugs played any part in his death. It's every druggist's nightmare, you know. Thinking that the prescriptions they fill might be used to cause someone's death. Poor Andy. He was always so nice to me when he'd come in to pick up a prescription. He even gave me a free ticket to that Christmas play the two of you were in. I gave him a little bouquet of flowers backstage after the play was over. He was so appreciative. He said no one had ever given him flowers before."

The crowd started to break up and move down another alleyway in groups of two and three abreast. Jane and I followed at the back.

"That was thoughtful of you to give him flowers," I said. The only thing I'd received during the production was a ticket for parking too long in a loading zone.

"Just my way of saying thank you. He surprised me though. Uff da. Uff da. He was so stiff and unemotional onstage. Not a very good actor, was he?" He was so stiff and unemotional onstage. Not a very good actor, was he?"

Maybe not onstage, but in real life, Andy was a great actor. How else could he trick all these women into thinking he was a nice guy? "He had a knack for playing certain parts."

"I overheard someone say you're the one who discovered his body."

"Actually, Shirley Angowski discovered his body. I discovered Shirley."

"Shirley Angowski?"

"The blonde lady who ate dinner with us last night. Remember? The geography expert from Rhode Island."

Jane nodded recognition. "Andy was going to send me her E-mail address so I could include her name on our mailing list. I guess she'll have to give it to me herself now. We'll be running a two-for-one special on hair care products when I get back. She looks like she uses a lot of hair care products."

She had my interest now. "Two-for-one? Even on specialty items like strawberry volumizer and kiwi mousse?" The volumizer smelled so real, I counted it as a fruit exchange on my list of daily nutritional requirements.

"Andy never should have come on this trip," Jane said, as we crossed a promenade leading to the waterfront. "He put himself under too much stress wanting to be the perfect escort. All that planning, and reading, and packing. The pressure must have killed him."

He'd probably read a couple of guidebooks and thrown his underwear into a suitcase. She was right. Way too much stress for a guy to handle.