“Well, it doesn’t say ‘REVENGE’ exactly,” the dog amended, regarding the letters, which were indeed written in dripping red.

How had we all missed that?

Was that blood?

I went over to the wall and sniffed, but my sniffing did not detect the metallic scent of blood I’d learned to know all too well during the Cat Wars. This was mere paint, as the stain on the carpet turned out to be as well, once I went over and sniffed at that too.

“Too right,” Inspector Strange said. “It says ‘RACHE.’ Probably, the victim, this, er, John Smith didn’t have time to write the whole name, which would have undoubtedly been RACHEL, a woman’s name.”

“But see, that’s where you’re wrong!” Bones said. “That’s just what someone else wants you to think! Someone is relying on some stupid flatfoot to go barking up the wrong tree—always a waste of time, no matter how pleasurable—and turning over every stone in town to find the right Rachel.”

“Right,” Inspector Strange said, blushing. “What a silly thing it would be, to do that.” Pause. “And why would that be exactly?”

“Because it’s not referring to a woman’s name at all,” Bones said. “RACHE is the German word for REVENGE.”

“Ah!” Inspector Strange said. “Helpful, is it? Being multilingual like that?”

“It comes in handy,” Bones allowed.

“But wait,” Inspector Strange said. “You’re saying it was someone other than the victim who left that note on the wall?”

Bones nodded.

“Why would someone do that, though?” Inspector Strange said. “No, I’m sure it would have been the victim. You know, trying to tell us that’s why he was killed?”

“Do you not remember,” Bones said, “that the victim had no red on him, no marks at all? And this word written in red—it was, I am quite certain, written with a human finger. And yet the victim has no red on his hands.”

“Oh. Right.” Inspector Strange appeared stumped. “Then who … ? Why … ?”

“That, my good Inspector, is what is known as a mystery.”