Rain slicked the city street. A body lay still there. Blood bloomed on the cold ground. Detective Miles approached the scene slowly. His breath made a pale cloud. A chill wind bit his face. Sergeant Miller stood by the corpse. “It’s a nasty one, sir.” The victim wore a fine suit. His eyes stared at the sky. A single ornate pen lay. It was clutched in his hand. Miles knelt, examining the object. This was more than robbery. This was a clear message.