Free A Deadly Snow Fall by Cynthia Gallant-Simpson

while his feelings were quite different toward me.
    “I say, cara mia, why don’t I just pop over
for a holiday? Weather here is frightful. You could show me your
village.”
    That would not do. “Nigel, at the mur…death
scene of a man who the police assumed took his own life by jumping
off of our very tall Pilgrim Monument, I saw something that has
been niggling around in my fertile brain for days. Something that
seemed, at least to me, to be incongruous. Only you can clear this
up for me before I jump in and get involved in a possibly dangerous
situation.”
    Silence. Then, “Oh, darling girl, please do
not put your magnificent self in danger. I can fly right over and
be with you to protect you.” Nigel’s voice, so concerned and
sincere melted my heart as always and I wished that I could return
his love but chemistry being what it was I simply could not.
    “Thanks, ducks. Tell you what, if it gets too
sticky you will be the first one I’ll call in. But for now, I need
information. I need to know how a person who jumped off of a two
hundred and fifty-two foot tower would land.”
    I heard his snicker but waited for the humor
to pass and for him to regain his professional stance. “Well,
darling girl, I can tell you right off the bat that the sound would
be splat. But I suppose you mean how would the body meet the hard
ground, correct?”
    “Yes Nigel, my swain, that's what I am
asking. Is there a formula or something that determines how a
person hits depending on the height from which he falls or is it an
individual thing or what?”
    “The structure of the human body combined
with the automatic physical response to such a fall pretty much
pre-determines the outcome. Let me explain. No matter how
determined a person is to jump and end it all, the mind clicks in
once the flight begins and there is a most definite physical
response. Even deep despondency rarely overrides and obliterates
our natural human survival response. No one makes such a fall with
their arms pasted to their sides as they wait to hit solid ground.
Arms and legs flail like a fledgling bird taking its first flight.
I can tell you with certainty, my darling girl, that a person would
have to be trussed like a Christmas turkey not to flail in
flight.”
    “But more specifically, would he have fallen
face-first or on his back?’
    “That would depend on his movements as he
approached his landing site. There would be some effect upon the
landing depending on the body’s movement and whether the jumper was
still conscious. However, it would be a toss-up. Like tossing a
coin. Well, I mean I could get into the mathematics of it but not
necessary.”
    “Thanks, Nigel. That is precisely what I’m
looking for. So, unlikely he’d come down like a bomb with his head
like a heat-seeking missile that would hit and crack open upon
impact?”
    “Mercy, no. Whatever gave you such a
Hollywood idea?”
    Not bothering to address his question, I
moved right on to the next one. “Well, before I leave your charming
company, Nigel, please tell me this: What would cause someone to
land squarely on the top of his head if he jumped or was pushed
from a two hundred foot tall tower?”
    “Angel girl, stretching my imagination, I
suppose I could propose a hypothetical situation. However, I’d
rather not describe it to you; could cause nightmares.”
    “Nigel darling, I do really need to know. I
can take it. Tell you what, let’s suppose that the victim was
already dead or at least unconscious and set it up for me,
please.”
    “The murderer might have tied the victim’s
ankles together with a rope. Thus, when tossed over the side of the
tower the trajectory would be guaranteed to end in a head-first
landing.”
    “I see.”
    “Is that helpful, darling? Did your victim
land head-first?”
    “Thanks so much, Nigel. Let’s get together
next time I’m in London. Cheerio.”
    “Wait, Liz, what….”
    I felt terrible about hanging up abruptly,
but I was