THE HEAD OFFICE

CLAUD WOOD

          I woke up at 7 in the morning, I was at my house in France. I live in America, but I took a vacation from my work, I was a detective. I'm happy that I took a break because, in America, shit's crazy.

DING DONG*

The doorbell rang, it was the newspaper boy, I opened it and bent down to take it and the first thing I read catches my eye. BRUTAL ACCIDENT NEAR PALACE OF VERSAILLES. I read the whole article.

Gabriella Hernandez, a food critic, was caught in an accident with a truck. When the body was examined, the figure of a bar code was printed onto her neck. Sources say, that the mark is unknown and the government of France takes this seriously.

Great! I just hope they don't come to me. 2 days later, nobody went to investigate the case. I felt bad for the government, so I put on my brown overcoat, wore my sunshades, and left. It was a chill, but sunny day. To normal people, this weather would've been weird, but to me, this was perfect.

I walked on the footpath thinking about my boring detective job in America. The people of France are really good, That's probably why I'm so kind, "Bonjour," people would wave their hands and say. Even if they're focused on something else, they'll greet you, but Americans, they don't even know you're alive.

I saw a cab come, I waved my hand and the cab stopped in front of me, "Versailles police Department, please?" I asked in French, "Oui," He said and I entered. I reached the police station and paid the driver. I let out a deep sigh and walked towards the police station.

I went towards the desk, "Oui?" The police officer asked and I showed him my Detective Badge. He nodded and led me into a room, "Sir, we have a detective who wants to help!" The officer said, the Man inside waved him off and the officer left the room after.

"Bonjour! I am the Deputy police Chief," He said in French,

"Bonjour, I'm here to help in the Palace of Versailles case," I asked hoping that he would say no,

"C'est génial! We were looking for a detective, I'm very thankful to you!" He said, shaking my hands desperately,

"My name is Bary Willson, I am half American," He said, this time, in English,

"Claud Wood, I work in America," I said pulling my hand out of his grasp.

"Come! I'll fill you in," He leads me into another room, I followed him.

He handed me a file, "Learn all you can and come back and tell what you think the problem is, à plus tard, ami!" He said and patted my back.

I wanted to walk my way back home. I lived in a cottage near farmland. It was a great view. I could get fresh cow milk from the farmer, as I said, the people of France are great. I wanted to take a look at one of the photos, so I took one out. After seeing it, I almost puked on the side of the road. 

It was the picture of a girl's head, smashed from both the side. It became very thin, probably because the truck hit her into a wall. Her skull were now broken pieces judging by the patterns on the head. Her eyes were like someone tried to gauge it out. Her mouth was left open, probably from shock after seeing the truck. And on her neck, were a figure of a bar code, like it was burned into her neck. I looked closer and saw two letters below the figure, T, and O. There was another letter between them, but it wasn't seen.

I looked down and saw two pictures fallen, someone came to me, picked it up, looked at me like I tried to kill her and puked on the ground. I picked up the photos and what was in it, was something not to be described. I put the photos into the file and started walking.