I heard a click and a whir as the film advanced.

"Have I got time for one more? I wanna get a shot straight down from here to show your mother how far up I was when I took this."

"Go aheadt." I was from Iowa. Even in the midst of excruciating pain, I could be polite.

"By the way dear, I think I spied Mr. Nunzio while Bernice and me was eatin' lunch."

Nunzio? The police were supposed to drag him in for questioning. Did this mean they'd let him go? "Wheyre wazh he?"

"He was standin' in line to head back down the mountain. At least, I think it was him. Hard to tell with his trousers on. Well, would you look at that."

Oh, no. Now what?

"My eyesight's not what it used to be, but there's somethin' big and yellow on a ledge about a hundred feet down from here. It looks like some kinda Muppet."

"Maybe ish a kite."

"Do they have kites that look like Big Bird?"

I was pretty sure Big Bird was a Sesame Street character rather than a Muppet, but I didn't want to split hairs. "You beddah lemme see."

Nana wiggled backward until her feet touched ground again. "It'd be too bad if someone lost their kite. It looks like a real nice one."

I squirmed forward over the sill an inch at a time, my heart pounding with the height, the bottoms of my feet tingling, again. With my fingers gnarled into the far end of the sill, I pulled forward just far enough so I could peek down into the depths below. My stomach somersaulted at the sight that greeted me.

It wasn't a Big Bird kite on the ledge below. It wasn't a Muppet at all.

It was a Tweety Bird yellow raincoat.

Unfortunately, Shirley Angowski was still wearing it.

Chapter 8

"Let me see if I have this down correctly."

I was seated in a small office in the Hotel Kulm, watching Inspector Miceli pace back and forth as he read aloud from his notes. My head throbbed, my jaw ached, and every time I said Shirley Angowski's name, I got a knot in my throat and tears in my eyes. In other words, I was a mess.

"The last time you saw Ms. Angowski alive, she was on the stairway to the summit, with her leg wrapped around the railing, shooting pictures."

I nodded.

"You initially thought she was about to commit suicide."

I nodded.

"But you later learned she'd assumed the ill-advised stance simply because...she could. She was extremely surefooted and flexible."

"A gymnisht."

"And the next time you saw her, she was at the bottom of the escarpment."

"Yath."

"So the victim might have chosen to shoot a picture from an extreme camera angle, climbed onto the sill, lost her balance, and fallen. Or, while she was perched on the sill, someone could have pushed her. Do you know of anyone who would want to harm the victim?"