Salons are supposed to be places where women—and some men—can go and relax, for a few hours.

But, not all the time!

I was at a salon, getting a pedicure. I had just gotten there and was soaking my feet in a tub. Suddenly, I heard a scream!

Looking around, I saw a girl at one of the manicure tables. Her head was down.

I got up and looked her. "Don't panic," I shouted. "I'm a detective; my name is Barefoot Jenny. Let me look at her."

I looked at the girl.

"She's dead!"

There were more screams.


The police were called. Lt. Kirschenbaum himself came.

"A lucky break that you were here, Jenny."

"That's right, Carl! OK, what's the victim's name?"

"Marti Zinger," said the salon owner. "She comes—came—often, here."

I nodded and looked at the body again. The left hand was still in the basin.

"Can I have a pair of gloves, please?"

One of the girls gave me them, and I put them on, then picked up her hand. I could see a bit of blood on it at the base of her middle finger. This gave me an idea:

"I suspect she was poisoned. Save the water in the basin."

"Right, Jenny," said Carl. One of the cops poured the basin contents into a bottle and labelled it.

"Now, who was her manicurist?"

"Tami Phan," said one of the girls. "She's the one who usually does her nails."

"Find her."

A search was begun for her; she couldn't be located!


She was later caught at her apartment, a mile away. She still had a vial of poison—the same poison that killed Marti. It was later revealed that they were having a lesbian affair, but Marti was seeing another girl.

How Tami did it was simple: She cut Marti's cubical deep, causing blood. This caused the poison to seep into her system.


"Great work, Barefoot Jenny!" Carl said, as the cops were finishing up.

"Thanks, Carl!"

Then, he smiled. "Your feet are dirty!"

I looked down at them. The floor was dirty, and my feet were wet, from the bath!

"I'll need a pedicure!"

"Yep!"

I got a pedicure—and more; the salon now gives me free service!