The lower deck was set up like a diner with long booths and tables flanking both starboard and port sides. I walked to the far end of the boat and slid into the last booth, hoping to be spared further discussion of the incident in the hall last night. To my right, a sliding window opened onto a vista of rain plinking onto Lake Lucerne and layers of fog hanging over the water. Yup, we were sure going to see some sights today.

"Well, if it isn't Annie Oakley," Wally said as he slid into the seat opposite me. "Nice job on Dick's nose. What caliber aerosol spray were you packing?"

I shot him an exasperated look. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Hey, you're not lisping anymore. You must have gotten your tooth fixed. Gotta admit, though, that lisp was pretty cute. I'm kind of sorry it's gone. But, now that you're back to your old self, what about that drink at the Hotel Chateau Gutsch tonight?"

"Tonight?" Could I tell him I was going out with another man? Would the revelation hurt his feelings? I didn't want to do that. Better play it safe. "Did I tell you the hotel still hasn't found my suitcase? I'm not sure how I can go anywhere without the proper dress clothes."

"Still no suitcase? This is ridiculous. Okay, when we get back to the hotel, I'll rattle a few cages. They're usually so fastidious about transporting luggage. I can't understand what's happened."

"Ladies and gentlemen," said a voice over the loudspeaker, "vee velcome you aboard the Vilhelm Tell for our excursion of Lake Lucerne. If you vould kindly take your seats. Hot drinks vill be on sale in the bow of the boat once vee are under vay. Vee hope you enjoy your tour."

The engines revved and sputtered. Diesel fumes wafted through the air. Nana slid onto the seat beside me, with Bernice in tow.

"Have you seen Grace Stolee's hair this mornin'?" she asked under her breath. "Three booths back on the other side of the boat. Go ahead and take a peek."

I snuck an inconspicuous look over my shoulder. EHH! Her hair looked worse than Dick's nose. Her normally stylish coif resembled a field of windblown ragweed. "I didn't do it," I said in defense of myself. "I didn't get anywhere near Grace with my aerosol can."

"I know, dear. It's because of her curlin' iron. Dick tried to fend off that bat with it, but since bats are a protected species, there's laws against thwackin' 'em with hairstylin' equipment. Dick's lucky he didn't end up in jail. He got off with a warnin', but they still confiscated the curlin' iron 'cause he'd tried to use it in the commission of a crime. If you ask me, the real crime is Grace's hair. Lookit her. That's the worst case a bedhead I ever did see."

"You're our escort," Bernice piped up. "I think the responsibility falls on you to get Grace's curling iron back for her."