Bumstead did his best to revive Hesselbeck. As he did so he discovered a piece of paper which had - apparently - been carelessly tossed down on the sidewalk. Bumstead bent down to read it. It was in tiny, tiny red dots.
When Hesselbeack had revived, Bumstead took him to the local Graphology Lab.
Police graphologists were walking around in there wearing white coats so as to protect them from all the harmful biro rays.
"So," said Bumstead as he smoked his cigar, "What have you got?"
"Pardon me?" said Marmaduch, the formidable lady who ran the unit.
"Quit stalling us: what does it say on the note?"
"No smoking," said Marmaduch.
"Just that? No smoking?" asked the detective.
"No," answered Marmaduch. "The rules say there's no smoking in here."
"I am the goddamn rules now what did that note say?"
Marmaduch sighed and handed Hesselbeck a transcript so he could read it to his boss.
"Rory Rhubarb and Kinky Drawings were married today," he read, "at the Sir Winston Churchill Church in Dunlop Street, Finchley. That's all I'm going to say about you. I'm very disappointed in you."
Marmaduch and Bumstead looked as perplexed as the bizarre note's narrator.
"What in the hell?" asked Hesselbeck about what he'd just read out.
"It's written in A Rhesus Negative blood. That's the same type the murdered girl had," added Marmaduch.
"This some kindava sick joke?" asked Hesselbeck.
Marmaduch shook her head.
"There's another thing," she said.
"Oh, yeah?" smoked Bumstead.
"We think," said Marmaduch carefully, "the murdered girl was a member of a pagan head cult."