Per Ipsum Solveat

Your story is very Kafkaesque, I said to Pliny. It seems to be saying something about the human condition that I can't quite put my finger on, and then there's the astonishing ending.

Yes, said Pliny, I know it's a good story, but now listen to how I turn it into a mystery:

Gaius finished reading, and closed the book. He scratched his head. Most extraordinary! he muttered, looking at the cover once again. Yes, it was a book of Kafka's short stories, but the one he had just read was not like The Metamorphosis that he remembered. Perhaps partially, he conceded.

Just then a sheet of paper fluttered to the floor from between the pages of the book. He picked it up. It appeared to be a hand-written list, headed "Facts". He began to read:

1. A beetle has been squashed ( by a bicycle).

2. The beetle is of an undetermined size, as is the bicycle.

3. Therefore this is only a 'report' of a beetle being squashed by a bicycle,

4. The beetle has elsewhere been referred to as 'a giant beetle'.

5. Someone called 'K' is involved in the investigations.

6. He speaks German.

7. 'K' knew of the beetle both before and after the reported squashing.

8. 'K' has concluded something.

He speaks German? wondered Gaius. No, he doesn't. Gaius turned the piece of paper over. On the reverse side he read:

..... a giant beetle or cockroach, or as K originally referred to it, Ungeziefer. The actual measurements of the creature were not given, therefore it was not possible to ascertain whether it was likely to have been squashed when ridden over by an ordinary sized bicycle, or whether it had to be something larger. However, K concluded......

Now that rings a bell, said Gaius to himself. That definitely does ring a bell. But I can't quite put my finger on it. And I can't think straight without my toga. Oh well. Per ipsum solveat.

That's it, said Pliny.

What's per ipsum solveat?

You must solve it for yourself.

Oh, very good.

Yes, said Pliny. That will teach them.