No, really. What just happened?

I had no time to ask because, all at once, his hands cuffed behind his back, Mr. Jefferson Hope—if that really was his name and not just something the dog had dreamed up—made for my bay window, hurling his body against it with such force that the lower window broke, raining glass down upon my precious cushion.

As the tall man moved, so moved the public detectives, grabbing onto his restrained arms and tackling him to the floor before he could make his escape. The most horrible melee ensued with furniture crashing and limbs flying. For a restrained man, and even with two humans against his one, he was still capable of putting up quite a fight.

“Do you think we should help?” I asked, raising my voice to be heard over all the loud thumping and crashing. “I’m not particularly keen on fighting,” I added.

“I am.” The dog smiled. “But let them handle it.” He indicated the inspectors with twin juts of his chin. “It is the one thing they’re good at.”

Meanwhile, no doubt excited by the excess of noise, the puppies, with the exception of Waggins, were scampering all over the place, getting into every nook and cranny of my home, as puppies will do.

“Waggins!” Bones called over the thuds. “In future, perhaps it would be best if you left the puppies outside and simply came up yourself?”

“Future?” I cried, not like a girl. “There isn’t going to be any future!”

But the dog didn’t answer me, only smiling as the public detectives finally wrestled “Mr. Jefferson Hope” to his feet.

“And anyway,” I said, quite irritable now, “how do you know that’s the murderer? I’ve seen no evidence that he’s—”

But this time, I cut myself off, for as the two detectives led the tall man past me, I happened to look down and see the tall man had incredibly tiny feet. I also remembered what Bones had said earlier, when we’d been at the location of the first murder: something about a cab—and, therefore, a cabdriver—having been there and how two men had gone in, but not left, as friends.

Tall man. Tiny feet.

Oh. Oh.