Things That Go Bump

Last winter I read a piece of femme noir pulp called Sky Blues by Vicki Hendricks which featured murder and intrigue amongst a crack skydiving troupe. So I've been reading with interest over the weekend this story about a young man, a veteran of some 200 skydives, who fell to his death during his latest stunt. The police have unsurprisingly concluded that to have one torn parachute cord is bloody unlucky, to have two deliberately sabotaged is moider at 13,000 feet. The dastardly deed is reckoned to have been perpetrated at a fancy dress ball the night before. Without wishing to seem disrespectful to the grieving relatives the ambulance-chaser in me states I'm first in the queue for the film rights to this one. Plus it gives me another opportunity to upset the purists with my wilful misuse of the ALT tag...