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Day 7 ‘Peruke’

The scalper of Hickelberry

There have been five identical killings in the last month in the small village of Hickelberry. Charlotte and her junior detective, Thomas, get called to the latest victim’s house.

Mary’s body is spawned out on the bathroom floor, and her scalp has been removed. Charlotte crouches down to examine the wet body.

‘The killer waited till she was showering to grab hold of her, then wacked her head repeatedly into the tiles.’

Thomas touches the bloody scalp. ‘The killer has claimed another souvenir, but he’s been sloppy extracting her hair.’

Charlotte inspects the window. ‘Well done for spotting that; our killer was spooked and exited through the window.’ She looks at the trampled rose bush underneath the window.

‘Our killer has left a clue.’ Thomas holds up a gold thimble.

Charlotte takes the thimble off him, ‘Let’s pay a visit to the craft shops.’

They arrive at the last craft store on their list on the outskirts of the village, the shop looks run down and in need of paint.

Thomas looks at the shops sign, ‘Wigs, bits and bobs.’

‘It seems our killer is using the hair for more than just souvenirs.’ Charlotte opens the door, which rings a bell.

The shop is small with boxes piled up; isles are cramp and narrow.

‘Go and look around while I’ll find the owner,’ she tells Thomas who nods.

Charlotte looks down the isles and shouts, ‘Mr Perluke.’

‘Can I help you?’ Mr Perluke appears from behind her; he is a lanky man in his 50s with a shiny bold head.

‘Oh, hello, I’m Detective Knowles, do you keep records of your purchases and has anyone brought a thimble recently?’

‘Let me have a look outback; I won’t be long.’ Mr Perluke smiles at her and goes into the back room.

Charlotte looks down the aisles for Thomas and spots him slumped over some wool. She checks his wrist and feels a weak pulse.

‘Hang in there.’ She squeezes his hand.

Charlotte pulls out her gun and heads to the back room. Mr Perluke sits at a sewing table and caresses a blonde wig in his hand while picking out strands of blood. Behind him, on a shelf is a collection of wigs on stands, matching the victims hair.

‘I knew I would get a visit, dropping that thimble was a stupid mistake.’

Charlotte points the gun at him.

He stands up and picks up a wig. Hair like this needs a decent home. Those women didn’t appreciate their hair, the split ends and nasty products, but I restored it to its true beauty.’ He fixes the wig on his head.

‘I lost my hair years ago, but I can restore my youth.’ He strokes the hair.

Charlotte moves in closer, ‘Mr Perluke I’m arresting you for the murders of…’

‘No you’re not,’ he shakes his head, ‘a man like me, wouldn’t survive in jail, I’m ready to face my judgement.’ He drops a small bottle and collapses to the floor.

I am challenging myself to write a 500-word post a day for 30 days. I will choose a random word from the dictionary and to make this challenge more complicated; I will use the same word to create posts on Twitter and Instagram. I will create a haiku for twitter and post a photo on Instagram. If the word I choose is too obscure to make a post, I will choose another word.

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