One of the oldest of mystery subgenres, dating back to Chaucer's "The Miller's Tale," but not usually as dirty, is the had I but known school of sleuthing. This school is problematic, as we shall see. And remember: I said it was old; I never said it was venerable.

The Answers are Blowin' through Her Head

1. The protagonist is always a female, for who could possibly find it credible for a man to do all the dumb things the heroine does?

2. The are many, many signs that point to the murderer (some of them done up in neon with flashing yellow arrows), but the heroine never sees them.

3. Lots of really bad stuff happens around the heroine, but she never worries that she, herself, is in danger. Here are some examples of bad things that don't make her skip town:
   • She comes home from work to find that her nightgown has been put through the meat grinder and a note has been left on the kitchen counter, saying "Sorry I missed you."

   • Her chihuahua is tied to the ceiling fan, barking its head off. Our heroine wonders vaguely how the dog learned to tie square knots.

   • A car with no license plates veers onto the sidewalk and knocks her through the window of the Baskin-Robbins, and the flavor of the day is "Rocky Road."

   • Her subscription to Cosmopolitan runs out without a renewal reminder.

4. Her friends have all done time.

5. She has a smart mouth, a trendy job, a high IQ, a college degree, but, unfortunately for her, blood tests reveal that she does not have even a healthy paranoia level. She's also been short-changed in the adrenaline department.

6. She thinks "mace" is a medieval war club with a spiked metal head.

7. Her best friend, a man who works for the Psychic Hotline, tells her she is in grave danger, so she hurries to Radio Shack to buy a surge protector for her computer. When she gets home, her dog is stuffed in the blender, and, on the kitchen counter, is a note saying "Your treat next time."

8. Her brother, her boss, her accountant, her dry cleaner, her mail carrier, and her hair dresser all die under suspicious circumstances, and she is slightly irritated that she will have to transfer her business to the dry cleaner a block farther away from her apartment.

9. You know the climax is just around the bend when she goes for a walk in the park, with her Psychic Hotline friend, and starts wondering aloud about certain "odd" feelings she's had lately.

10. He knocks her to the ground on the bridle path, and, woozily, she spots a burning cigarette lying beside her on the cinders. She'd really like to have a drag, so she picks it up and accidentally stabs her assailant in the eye with the lighted end. He confesses to the murders, and she apologizes for the second-hand smoke.

11. His motive for trying to kill her is — well, wouldn't you?

12. She goes home, none the wiser, and her chihuahua is bound and gagged with duct tape in the bathroom medicine chest, signalling to the smart reader, but not to the heroine, that there will be a sequel.

13. The dog lives. There has to be at least one intelligent character who grows and develops through troubling experience during the length of the series. And, remember, he can tie square knots.

Submitted by Polly Whitney, who owns a dog with fur.