Eric looked at his boss with distaste. ‘It’s the third death in Silver in a week. I’m getting rumours that there’s more to it than just an automobile accident.’

Pasqual opened her top drawer and fished around until she found a packet of M&Ms.

‘Want one?’ She tossed the packet over the desk to Eric after filling her mouth with chocolate.

‘No. Look, I’m telling you this because I think it will have a negative effect on the resort. Skiers don’t get off on reading about death when they should be reading about snow reports.’

‘Eric, I think our visitors are big enough boys and girls to cope with the fact that sometimes people die in cars.’

‘What about Lenny and Jim?’

‘Accidents happen. They were patrollers for Christ’s sake.’

Eric looked at her and she knew that look. Pasqual stood up and turned her back to him, looking out of the window at the last of the die-hard skiers stepping out of their bindings beside the lodge after stealing the last run of the day.

‘What do you see out there, Eric?’

‘A lodge that needs a re-clad and a nursery area that needs two extra tows.’

She laughed, and threw another chocolate peanut into her mouth. ‘Well, maybe so, but I see the best fucking snow we’ve had in years, and a season that’s going to do business like a cold beer stall in Hell.’ She turned back to him. ‘Now what exactly are you worried about?’

‘Someone has to.’

‘Meaning?’

‘Meaning you shouldn’t underestimate negative vibes in a fun resort, Pasqual.’

She sat down and smiled a wicked cat grin at him. ‘Are you telling me my job, Mr Sindon?’

Eric sighed. ‘Okay, forget it. Just thought it was worth mentioning.’

‘Thank you.’

Eric shoved some paper at her.

‘Here’s the shop stock-taking list, and there’s a guy outside looking for work. Do you want me to see him?’

‘Nope. I’ll see him. You fax more celebrities. Try and get something more famous than someone who voiced over an AT&T commercial. Remember the blackmail bit about the kids in wheelchairs. Lay it on as thick as you like. Where’s the guy?’

‘In the ski school.’

She emptied the last of the chocolates into her mouth, threw the packet in the waste bin and moved to the door. ‘Oh and Eric …’

Eric looked up expectantly.

‘No more drama-queen stuff unless a gondola full of customers spontaneously combusts. Right?’

Eric held her gaze without reply for a few more moments than was polite.

‘You’re the boss.’

‘Yes. I am. Aren’t I?’

She smiled and shut the door behind her. Eric looked at the door for a long time until the phone rang.

* * *