"And to that end, we'll be fingerprinting everyone in your tour group before they leave the mountain today in case we're able to retrieve the bag. If someone's prints other than Ms. Angowski's appear on the bag, I'll want to escort them to the station to find out why."

I held up my hands and wiggled my fingers. "Evhen me?"

"I'll fingerprint you personally tomorrow at the hotel, after you have your tooth looked after."

I didn't know if taking fingerprints would involve his lips coming into contact with parts of my body other than my hand, but I was hopeful.

He wrote something onto his notepad, then ripped off the page and handed it to me. "This is the name and address of my dentist. I'll call to tell him to expect you. And you needn't worry about the expense. Once I speak to the hotel management, I suspect they'll decide it's in their best interest to pay your bill in full. An officer will meet you at the bottom of the mountain to drive you to his office, and he'll wait to drive you back to the hotel."

"Wat about Nana?"

"I'm afraid she'll have to remain here with everyone else to be questioned and fingerprinted, but I can assure you, I'll see her safely onto the bus before it leaves."

"I'd kith you if I thaut it wount huht too mush."

He gave me a sooty look that made my toes curl. "I'll be happy to accept a rain check on that." He escorted me across the room.

"Wat were you gohing to tell me befaw I left?"

At the door he turned me around to face him, stroked my hair back from my face, and lazily fingered the lobe of my ear. I held my breath again. If I deprived myself of oxygen much longer, I probably wouldn't need a dentist at all.

"Two things actually." His voice dropped to a whisper. "You are the most desirable woman I have ever met, Emily Andrew. If Swiss women were more like you, I would have remarried years ago."

Gee, I'm glad I asked. I could hardly wait to hear what the second thing was. I looked at him expectantly.

"The second thing is, the serology and toxicology reports have come back on Mister Simon. They were positive for a substance called dimethyl sulfate."

"Wat's that?"

"Poison."

I shot up straight. "Poizun? Andy wath poizuned?" Oh. My. God. I'd been right. Someone had fiddled with his Piruter--Pirable--with his asthma medication. "Wath it in hiz inhalah?"

"His inhaler tested negative for toxins. It was pure Pirbuterol Acetate. We're uncertain how the dimethyl sulfate was introduced into his system, but whoever did it wanted to make sure Mr. Simon died an agonizing death, which suggests the killer had strong emotional ties to him and rather speaks in favor of Nunzio's innocence. Mr. Simon suffered crippling seizures the night he died. I suspect that's what you heard when you awoke that night. I've never known it to happen with a group of senior citizens, but it's likely someone on your tour is a cold-blooded killer."