Polly wants a confession Thanos Kalamidas Polly wants a confession CI PerCIval WhImsy mysTery Thanos Kalamidas Ovi ebooks are available in Ovi/Ovi eBookshelves pages and they are for free. If somebody tries to sell you an Ovi book please contact us immediately. For details, contact: ovimagazine@yahoo.com No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior permission of the writer or the above publisher of this book An Ovi eBooks Publication 2025 Ovi eBookPublications - All material is copyright of the Ovi eBooks Publications & the writer C Polly wants a confession Polly wants a confession Thanos Kalamidas a Ci Percival Whimsy mystery Thanos Kalamidas An Ovi eBooks Publication 2025 Ovi eBookPublications - All material is copyright of the Ovi eBooks Publications & the writer C Polly wants a confession i t was precisely 10:03 a.m. when Chief Inspec- tor Percival Whimsy arrived at the scene of the crime, fashionably ten minutes late and some- how already eating a hot scone wrapped in an evi- dence bag. “Inspector, that’s...” began Constable Flinch. “A crime scene scone? Yes, I know. But my dear Flinch, look at it.” Whimsy raised the pastry to the sunlight. “A proper currant-to-dough ratio. Would you arrest a man for loving truth, justice, and jam?” Flinch sighed. “The stolen parrot, sir. Lady Wig- glesworth is distraught.” Thanos Kalamidas “Of course she is. Her living jewel has taken wing, and we are all but featherless in its absence.” Whim- sy adjusted his monocle, which had no glass, and marched toward the manor. Lady Wigglesworth, an aristocratic woman draped entirely in chiffon and suspicion, greeted him with dramatic flair. “Oh, Inspector Whimsy, thank goodness you’re here. They’ve taken Lord Featherington!” Whimsy blinked. “Your husband?” “My parrot.” “Ah, yes. I presume your husband is still in the bil- liards room, yelling at a painting?” “He is,” she admitted. “But the parrot! Stolen from its golden perch!” “Fowl play,” Whimsy whispered solemnly, scrib- bling it in his notebook with a crayon he’d stolen from a child two weeks ago. “Tell me everything.” “It was this morning,” she said, dramatically gazing into the middle distance. “I found the cage empty. The window was open, and this was left on the stand.” Polly wants a confession Whimsy examined the note, written in what ap- peared to be red crayon, blocky and misspelled: “GIve me 1,000 POUNDs Or The BIrD GeTs IT. I meaN, GeTs mOre seeDs aND a NaP. - The TheIF” Flinch squinted. “They spelled ‘thief ’ wrong.” “They also spelled ‘pounds’ like ‘pones,’” Whimsy added. “A rustic touch. Clearly, a criminal of modest education. Or a duck.” He paced the room dramatically, nearly knocking over a priceless Ming vase, then actually knocking over an umbrella stand, which he saluted. “Lady Wigglesworth, do you have any enemies?” “I’m on the council of the Competitive Orchid Growers.” “Ah. So... all of them.” He stepped toward the open window and peered out. “Hmm. No claw marks. No signs of struggle. No scented oils. And yet... this lattice is suspiciously... climbable.” He scrambled up the trellis, slipped, tum- Thanos Kalamidas bled backward into the hedges, and emerged upside down with a daffodil in his ear. “ Aha! Just as I thought!” “You meant to do that?” Flinch asked. “Of course! I was checking for soft landing zones. Very... soft. Possibly horse manure.” Just then, a squawk echoed above them. They all looked up. There, perched on the roof with all the majesty of a feathery sovereign, sat Lord Featherington, smugly pecking at a biscuit. “He’s alive!” cried Lady Wigglesworth. Whimsy pointed. “And judging by the state of that biscuit, he’s also thriving. Clearly the parrot was not parrot-napped, but rather parrot-liberated! ” “But what about the ransom note?” asked Flinch. Whimsy produced a small magnifying glass and sniffed the crayon. “Cherry-scented. Limited edition. Only sold at Smudgeworth’s Toy Emporium.” Polly wants a confession A dramatic pause. “Send a constable immediately,” Whimsy whis- pered. “Tell them to interrogate all customers who purchased cherry crayons in the last seven days. Ask the manager if he’s ever seen a man with large hands and a nervous tic buying art supplies while mutter- ing about birds.” “Sir, that seems oddly specific...” “I met him last month at a puppet show. Shifty eyes. Polka-dotted socks. Criminal energy.” An hour later, the suspect was in custody: one Nigel Wump , a disgraced amateur magician turned failed chimney sweep, currently unemployed and living in a tent made of novelty tea towels. “I didn’t mean to not steal the bird!” Nigel wailed in the interrogation room. “I climbed in, but it was gone! So I panicked and left the note! I thought if I pretended I took it, I could get the money and no- body would know!” “You left fingerprints in jam,” said Flinch. “On the window. And signed the note ‘The Theif.’ ” Nigel broke into tears. “I thought it was fancy spell- ing.” Thanos Kalamidas Whimsy tapped his chin. “You see, gentlemen, crime is like a soufflé: it rises from the heat of des- peration, collapses from the draft of stupidity.” “Are you going to charge me?” Nigel whimpered. “Charge you? No,” Whimsy said magnanimous- ly. “You’ve suffered enough. You tried to steal a bird who outwitted you by simply walking out the door. You’ve been outclassed by a parrot, sir. Let that be your punishment.” Nigel sobbed harder. Back at the manor, Lord Featherington was re- turned to his golden perch, looking smugger than ever. He squawked once and then, to everyone’s amazement, repeated in a perfect mimic: “GIve me PONes Or The BIrD GeTs a NaP!” Lady Wigglesworth fainted. Whimsy caught her, mostly. She landed on Flinch. And as Whimsy stood in the glow of a setting sun, cravat slightly askew, he raised one eyebrow and de- clared: Polly wants a confession “another case closed, another crumpet earned. Onward, Flinch. To the bakery!” He took one step, tripped over a garden gnome, and fell directly into a koi pond. “...Exactly as planned,” he said, floating upside down. FIN Thanos Kalamidas Polly wants a confession A CI Percival Whimsy Mystery Thanos Kalamidas Ovi eBook Publishing 2025 Ovi magazine Design: Thanos Polly wants a confession Ovi ebooks are available in Ovi/Ovi eBookshelves pages and they are for free. If somebody tries to sell you an Ovi book please contact us immediately. For details, contact: ovimagazine@yahoo.com No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior permission of the writer or the above publisher of this book An Ovi eBooks Publication 2025 Ovi eBookPublications - All material is copyright of the Ovi eBooks Publications & the writer C Thanos Kalamidas Thanos Kalamidas Polly wants a confession CI PerCIval WhImsy mysTery thanos Kalamidas , a multipublished writer, cartoonist and illustrator; born and grew up in a picturesque neighbourhood on the moun- tainside of Hymettus in Athens, Greece. Then his life took him to Berlin, Germany and to London, UK for studies. After a brief stay in Yorkshire he moved his life to Paris, France while working in Tokyo, Japan and in Cape Town, South Africa. In the last 25 years he became a permanent Scandinavian resident and recently, in his glorious sixth de- cade, he moved to a scenic village in the Växjö area.