Lt Kirschenbaum and I were at the Gallery Le Monde. I brought him there to show him some photos.

Looking around, I saw them in a corner. "Here they are," I said and pointed.

He looked at them for a bit, then looked at me. "Wow!"

I smiled. "Yes!"

"OK, how did they come about?"

"There's an interesting story behind them:"


I got a call from a local artist named Ian Richards. Some money of his was missing, and he wanted me to investigate. I agreed to meet him at 4:00PM.

I arrived a half hour early. He greeted me at the door.

"You came at last! Follow me."

"Hi, I'm B-"

"-Yes, I know who you are."

He led me into his studio. A large white cloth in the middle of the floor, and paint cans surrounded it.

"Stand right there, in the middle of the cloth, please. Oh, you'd better take your shoes off, first. You can leave them on the side, along with your purse."

I was surprised at his commands, but I followed them.

He picked up one of the paint cans and opened it. Then he walked over to me—and poured the paint over my head! It was blue.

Why didn't I walk away? Frankly, it was because I was too shocked at what he did, to react immediately!

I looked at myself; he did a good job!

"OK, why did you do that?"

"I told you what to expect, didn't I?"

"Yeah, find your lost money, not become a paint canvass!"

This shocked him. "You mean you're Barefoot Jenny?"

"That's right."

"Oh, my God! I thought you were my model! She was due at 3:00, and it's 3:30 now, you see."

I let out a scream!

"Listen, since I've already started, may I continue?"

"You might as well!"

"I'm willing to pay you $500."

This made my anger subside! "$500?"

"Yes. Plus 15% commission on all photos I sell of you."

"Well. . . all right. But what's the point of this?"

"It's a series I'm doing called Painted People. I cover them with paint, then take photos of them."

"What about the stolen money?"

"I'll still hire you to investigate that."

"This won't hurt my skin, will it?"

"No. It's a special theatrical paint. It's quite safe." He showed me the can.

"Got a shower, and extra clothes?"

"The shower's over there," he pointed towards a door, "and yes, there's some clothes there you can use."

I nodded. "OK, you can get on with it."

Before beginning, he looked at me. "I shall call you the Blue Detective."


He opened another can of blue paint and pored it over me. Unlike the first time, he did it more "selectively," pouring it over areas he hadn't gotten to before.

Then he took a camera out and took photos. He had me pose in different ways, and even had me sit in a chair that was there.

The model came by, while this went on. She was curtly told her services weren't needed.

Afterward, I took a shower—with my clothes on!-and changed into some clothes that were there. Then he took me to his office. He had me sign some papers, then he gave me a check for $600 (this included a tip!). Afterwards, we discussed the matter of the missing money.


There were three photos. Two showed me in the chair, and the third showed me sitting with my blue feet straight out. There were also other photos of paint-covered people, that he took.

"So, what's it like being covered in paint, with your clothes on?," Carl asked.

"Weird! Worth $500, though."

"I'm sure it was! What about his missing money?"

"One of his models stole it."

"I'd buy one of the photos, but not for $250!" That's how much each of them cost!

"There are smaller prints of them for sale."

"Oh, OK."

I took him over to where they were. He ended up buying one of each, and I autographed them.