<div class="floatleft">(https://www.mediafire.com/convkey/3e88/4udf1zl8amlhhha6g.jpg)<br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><div align="center"><strong> <span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">Nan Rapido</span> </strong> <span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></span><div align="center">_____<br/><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;">Det. Kantonspolizei Zürich</span></strong></div></div></div>I definitely am finding her persuasive.  She wants assurances from me.  That’s the world—everyone wants assurances.  I want assurances.<br/><br/>Her hand and her slowly revealed ‘V’—she’s aptly named, seem to suggest assurances.  “I understand your concerns, wanting to feel free of inquiry, . . . for everyone here.  Yes, I understand.”  Am I really walking down this path?  It seems so natural.  “Maybe somewhere intimate—no, excuse me, bad choice, private.  I’d like to see diamonds.  I’d like to take those, some.  I’d like to see what you have to offer.”<br/>