Interrogation—whether of a suspect, or a witness—is an especially important aspect of my work. And I would say I'm good at it. I feel that being a woman, I have a slight advantage over men. Of course, some guys can get rough, or aggressive, with me, but I'm particularly good at handling them!

A man named Peter Steele was picked up for bank robbery. He had an accomplice with him, but he absolutely refused to name this person. The cops grilled him for days, but he wouldn't finger this person. Finally, Lt. Kirschenbaum asked me to interview him.

I met him in an interrogation room in the jail. Carl was with me.

"This is Jennifer Mason, a private detective. She usually goes by the name Barefoot Jenny. She has a few questions she'd like to ask you," Carl said to him.

"Go ahead. It won't do any good!"

"Carl, I'd like to be alone with him," I said. He looked at me with shock. "Don't worry, I can handle him."

"Well, OK. We've got closed-circuit TV on you, in case you get rough, Steele!"

"Fine with me," he responded.

Carl left the room.

"Hi, Peter."


"We just want to know who your accomplice was." He didn't answer. "You know that'll go easier for you."


"But you're still not willing to do it." Again, he didn't answer.

"Are you afraid of reprisals from him? You know we can arrange so that that won't happen."

He shook his head. "That'll never work. He could get out of jail unexpectedly."

"True. The cops will do what they can to make sure that won't happen."

He didn't respond. We looked at each other.

"Your name's Barefoot Jenny?"

"That's right. And yes, I do like to go barefooted a lot."

I could clearly see that this intrigued him. So, I took my shoes off! I was sitting to his left, so he had a pretty good view of me. And, he was staring! I began rubbing my feet on the floor. Then I propped them up on the desk close to him.

"I like your tattoo." He was referring to the tat on the sole of one foot.

"Why, thank you."

"Fat Frank, right?"

"You're good!"

"I know his work anywhere! Here, look at this."

He showed me his right leg. It had a tat of a samurai warrior on it.

"Impressive! Fat Frank did that?"


He grew silent but continued looking at my feet. And then, I got an idea: I reached my legs over and began caressing his legs with my feet. Of course, I knew that this was potentially dangerous, but like I said, I can handle myself. And besides, Carl was in the next room.!

"You know, if you tell us who your partner was, you might get out of jail much sooner."

I continued rubbing his legs. I moved my feet up towards his crotch.

He sighed. "Rudolph Mencken. He goes by the name Rough Rudy."

"Good boy! You can touch my feet for a few seconds."

He did this. I let him do it for five seconds, then I pulled my feet away from him. He didn't try anything else, fortunately.

I got up. "Thanks, Peter." I picked up my shoes and left the room. The floor was cold and dirty!

"Jenny?" he said, as I was leaving.


"Could you do one favor for me? Could you attend my trial barefooted?"

I nodded. "Sure, I'll do that."


Peter Steele got five years for the robbery. They let him off early for good behavior, and he did cooperate with the cops in naming Rudy. And yes, I did attend his trial barefooted!