<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><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;">The suspect enters and looks delectable.  My, my!<br/><br/>The maid offers a clue, perhaps.  What to now call my suspect—Miss Vee?  <br/><br/>Coffee is served and with the first sip starts in on mollifying me.  Is it decaf?  I get no jolt. Instead, it’s just slightly mellow Nan.  I even find a small smile on my face despite the time I’ve waited—who wouldn’t smile after observing the very nice maid’s diligent work?  She’d thrown several glances my way and I managed to look away mostly.<br/><br/>Things get all sorted and Anna wiggles away.  <br/><br/>I’m asked a question—that’s normal, but the question is not, “Yes, leather—supple.  Looks . . . comfortable.  Looks . . . ”  I work on a focused question which fairly quickly comes to my rescue: “So Miss Vee.  . . . Where were you when the jewels were stolen?”  <em>I’m here to nail you!</em>  Sometimes it takes a little time to get one’s rhythm.    <br/></span>