She came, she spied, she... fell Thanos Kalamidas She came, she spied, she... fell! 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 She came, she spied, she... fell She came, she spied, she... fell! Thanos Kalamidas Thanos Kalamidas An Ovi eBooks Publication 2025 Ovi eBookPublications - All material is copyright of the Ovi eBooks Publications & the writer C She came, she spied, she... fell M y name is Dotty Pinch , real name Doro- thy Penelope Pinch, but no one’s used that since my mother tried to home-school me with an abacus and a dream. I’m 29¾, a former cus- tomer service agent for a company that sold novelty foot spas shaped like avocados, and as of last Thurs- day, a private investigator. Not by training. Not by passion. Not even by mis- take. By inheritance Uncle Barry Pinch (may he rest in mysterious peace), was the kind of spy who wore fake mustach- es under real mustaches for security. The kind who Thanos Kalamidas could get classified documents just by asking politely and bringing a cheese platter. When he died (choked on a suspiciously elaborate vol-au-vent during a darts tournament in Slough), he left me two things: his detective agency, and a locked suitcase labeled “TOP SECRET: DO NOT SHAKE OR PUT NEAR MAGNETS.” Obviously, I shook it immediately. Inside was a glittery pair of sunglasses that could allegedly read Morse code off pigeons, a pen that was also a flamethrower (didn’t test that twice), and a trench coat that reeked of gin, betrayal, and some- thing that might have been trout. And just like that, with no training, no clue, and no understanding of what ‘surveillance’ meant (I thought it was a French wine) I was open for busi- ness. * * * * * * * My first client was Mrs. Enid McGubbins, a pen- sioner with one eyebrow permanently raised and a handbag full of digestive biscuits she used like ninja stars. She burst into my office (which was really my mum’s conservatory), demanding justice. She came, she spied, she... fell “My marrow’s gone missing, Dotty! A prize-win- ning , 43-stone marrow! Gone from my allotment like a thief in the night with a wheelbarrow and some muscle!” “Have you checked the neighbors?” I asked, flip- ping open Uncle Barry’s special notebook, which was just a recipe book with “Espionage Secrets” scribbled on top of “Victoria Sponge”. “Course I have! That Vera from Plot 6’s got fingers like chipolatas and a suspicious lack of soil under her nails!” I was in. My first case. Operation Missing Marrow It had everything : vegetables, vengeance, and a sus- pect who allegedly once keyed a Renault over a fruit- cake dispute. * * * * * * * I arrived at the allotment in my undercover outfit: leopard-print leggings, a trench coat (flaming trouty one), and a hat that made me look like a Bavarian beekeeper on holiday. To blend in, I disguised myself as a scarecrow. Un- fortunately, I was so convincing that a raven sat on Thanos Kalamidas my head and pooped down my collar, which I took as a sign from the espionage gods. After three hours of hiding behind compost bins, eavesdropping on pensioners comparing manure quality, I finally spotted Vera. She was wheeling something massive under a tarp. My spy senses (and the smell) told me: that was no sofa. I engaged stealth mode, which involved running in zig-zags while humming the Mission: Impossi- ble theme tune under my breath and tripping over a rogue carrot. “Oi, Vera!” I shouted. “You’re under citizen’s arrest! Or...well, at least under my suspicion. My heavily amateur suspicion.” “You’re bonkers, Pinch! I don’t have your damn marrow!” she shouted, hurling a turnip at my fore- head. Combat ensued. By which I mean we both screamed and swatted each other with gardening gloves for six minutes until I fell into her wheelbarrow and trig- gered my flamethrower pen. Her shed caught fire. She came, she spied, she... fell I fled. * * * * * * * Back in the office, licking a packet of frozen peas and my wounds, I reflected on my methods. Perhaps setting the prime suspect’s potting shed ablaze wasn’t technically good P.I. protocol. Then Enid returned. “I found the marrow,” she said. “It rolled down the hill and crushed a hedgehog statue in Mrs. Miggins’ garden. Turns out no one stole it. Just gravity.” “So... the case is solved?” “More or less.” “What about Vera?” “Still angry. Says if she sees you again, she’ll shove a daffodil where the sun don’t shine.” * * * * * * * Feeling dejected but oddly invigorated, I opened Uncle Barry’s notebook one last time. Tucked be- tween “Black Forest Espionage Cake” and “Poisoned Thanos Kalamidas Crème Brûlée for Beginners” was a post-it note in Barry’s spidery handwriting: “To Dotty, if you’re reading this, you’re probably already on fire. But if not, remember: a good spy nev- er trusts a pigeon, always wears clean knickers, and hides behind things often.” Wise words. Just then, a man in a tuxedo burst through the sky- light, landed in my tea tray, and gasped: “The Russian tap dancer knows about the laser penguins!” Then died. Of course he did. The End. She came, she spied, she... fell She came, she spied, she... fell! Thanos Kalamidas Ovi eBook Publishing 2025 Ovi magazine Design: Thanos 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 She came, she spied, she... fell! 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.