The bathroom was the focal point of investigation. The handle of the implement was coated in a fine powder to reveal the fingerprints on it.. Tweezers were being used to carefully extract hairs from the tangle knotted in the working end of the tool. Her hands were covered in blue nitrile gloves as she examined and gathered evidence, a determined look on her face.

“Aren’t you being a little bit ridiculous?” Her father asked.

“Someone keeps using my hairbrush, Dad.” She replied, sorting the hairs out by length and colour on a sheet of white A4 paper. “And I’m going to get to the bottom of this.”

When she wanted to study Criminology, it was more CSI he had in mind. Not Anatomy of a Hairbrush Theft.



“I don’t mean to criticize you,” his superior spoke in a voice that indicated he -was- meaning to, “but couldn’t you hurry that up? We need a lead.”

Pinching his brow as he bit off his planned retort, he sucked in a deep breath before responding with all the patience he could muster. “It’s not a simple task. I am working as fast as I can, and I could work faster if I did not keep having to explain this.”

Continue reading