"Widowed."

"Gay?"

"Straight."

I thought about my ex-husband. "Do you dress in ladies' lingerie?"

"That would be my cousin, Jean-Claude. But you've no cause to worry. He's adopted."

"I'm in room thirty-three-ten."

He smiled one of those bedroom smiles that caused every organ below my neck to tingle. My Golden Swiss holiday was definitely looking up.

"If you would be so kind, Miss Andrew, I have only a few more questions."

In response to his queries, I told him about Andy's red, watery eyes the day before, the mix-up in our room assignments, and his minor asthma attack at dinner.

"His asthma undoubtedly worsened as the night progressed," Miceli commented. "We found his inhaler on the floor beside him."

I told him about Andy's request for Shirley Angowski's E-mail address and the disturbing noises I'd heard in his room during the wee hours of the morning.

"What time did you hear the noises?"

"My watch was drying out, so I don't know what time it was."

"You must have touched the diverter on the shower. Can you describe the noises for me?"

"They were like World Wrestling Alliance noises. Thumps. Grunts. Groans. Maybe a flying dropkick."

"Could you tell if he was alone?"

"It sounded more like a tag team."

"So he might have been entertaining a paramour and they woke you with their spirited...lovemaking." He paused. "Given Mr. Simon's sexual appetites, would you be surprised if he'd arranged assignations with two different women on the same night?"

"Not at all. But if Shirley Angowski was assignation number two, who was assignation number one?"

"Something to ponder, Ms. Andrew. Perhaps he was having a secret liaison with someone else on your tour."

This last thought stuck with me as I located Nana in the dining room. Had Andy been boffing women other than aspiring actresses? Women with husbands, and grandchildren, and varicose veins? I sat down opposite Nana and eyed her speculatively.

"Is Andy Simon the kind of man you'd want to have an affair with, Nana?"

"He's dead, dear. I never have sex with dead men, though after your grampa started havin' those erectile dysfunction problems, I had a pretty good idea what it would be like."

I shook my head in bewilderment. "Why would any self-respecting female want to have an affair with that self-centered, self-important, undersized gnome?"

Nana shielded her mouth and spoke in a stage whisper. "He wasn't so undersized, down there, if you catch my drift."

My heart stopped beating. How could she know that? Oh, no! Not my own grandmother! "You didn't! You couldn't! I can't listen to this."

"Margi Swanson accidentally walked in on him when he was doin' his business into a cup at the clinic--Margi works part-time for Andy's doctor--and she told me at the Legion a Mary meetin' that his hoho reminded her of a big old eel she'd seen washed up on a beach on the coast a Maine. Can you hear me with your hands over your ears like that, Emily?"