case of the soiled carpet

After a first unsuccessful foray into the detective business, I was a bit wary of a second attempt.  Circumstance, however, forced my hand.   Strolling barefoot through the living room after I awoke this afternoon,  I chanced upon a mysterious damp patch in the carpet.   Roughly turnip-shaped and lacking any noticable color or odor, it  sat, impassive, and eyed me with superior contempt.

Repeated pokings revealed nothing new.  I decided it must be the result of some type of colorless, odorless liquid coming in contact with the carpet, perhaps by spilling.  I called in the usual suspects: the cat, who lawyered up and refused to answer on the grounds that she might incriminate herself, and my friend and recent houseguest who had spent the night on my couch– in prime position to observe the offending spot.

My friend, who had been drinking water out of a top-heavy and spill-prone goblet the night before, denied any involvement.  “But the substance is colorless and odorless–just like the water you were drinking! J’accuse!”  I barked.   She remained intractable and surly.  “Dat means nossing.  You haff no vay of  proofing it vas me.”

True, I had no proof.  When in doubt, however, blame  a European.  They’re always up to no good.

Case Status: Closed

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