<div class="floatleft">(http://i68.tinypic.com/352nssn.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: 10pt;">Det. Kantonspolizei Zürich</span></strong></div></div></div><br/>I get out of the car and look the place over.  So this is Chez du Monde.  If this is where the diamond ring is, I’ll get it.  No matter that it might be deeply stashed here and ‘claimed’ by du Monde.<br/><br/>The store, everyone, was flustered.  How could it happen?  They’re so careful.  At least when they reviewed items that customers had handled, it was discovered.  Same ring, different diamond.  A theft.  Video was inconclusive—couldn’t even tell who the two might be from the camera.  The clerk was some help with his description—seems like he’s a fan of nipple rings and things they attach to.  But his pic of the ring—how often does one match a hand with facial recognition programming?  Once at least.  Ms. Rosendahl turns out to match up.<br/><br/>First interview: Jaclyn Rosendahl.  Interesting record.  Past association with du Monde.  And she’s staying here.   There is the developing evidence over the ring and diamond.  My job.  Nice and slow—pressure her, see what her reaction is.<br/><br/>I knock at the door.  I explain I am with Kantonplizei and would like to speak with Ms. Rosendahl.  That gets a curious look and a promise to return.  Shortly, I’m told that she will be located and come down.  I nod.  Looking around I can only think big place.<br/><br/>Don’t know how long this will last.  Don’t know if the fancy investigator will make her way here.  She said she wanted to.  And why do we have to extend that courtesy to them?  Waiting and waiting a little longer, I wonder where Ms. Rosendahl is.<br/><br/><div align="center">________</div><br/><div class="floatleft">(http://i65.tinypic.com/28r01mh.jpg) <br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><div align="center"><strong> <span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">Dianne du Monde</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: 10pt;">Dominatrix of the World<br/>Queen of Diamonds</span></strong></div></div></div><br/>I rise from bed and see Vajayjay curled up on the floor.  With a knock at my door, there’s a whispered message that the Zurich police, one detective, wants to speak with Jaclyn Rosendahl(?).  I confirm that is Vajayjay and that she will be down shortly.<br/><br/>I tiptoe to stand next to her, my foot where it can be licked (oo-la-la!).  I nudge her.  “No rest for the wicked Vajayjay.  There’s a detective downstairs.  Take care of things.”  My foot taps a few times.  “Then go and see her.  I hope you’ve done nothing wrong.”<br/>