The Swiss Conspiracy [antikvár]

ItGuard Otto Brunnen was dreaming about Wurst. Not just the Kalbsbratwurst of Zurich, although he often thought that veal sausage was his favorite. Today his imagination ran riot in a pork-butcher's shop and he was surrounded by sausages of such odoriferous variety that his stomach gurgled in response. There were Klopfen from Basle, Schublig from St. Gallen, longeole from Geneva, Salsiz from Engadine, boutefas from Payerne "Excuse me," the voice interrupted timidly. Irritated in the extreme at this intrusion on his fantasy Guard Brunnen snapped, "What is it?" His eyes focused on the intruder. Just as he would have guessed. A little old woman with a black scarf tied around her mousy gray hair, a gray knitted shawl over her shoulders and a worn black handbag hanging from her left arm."Madam," Guard Brunnen told her sternly, "the tellers are straight ahead, the deposit and with-1