“I have you my magnificent beauty, you are my bride prize,” dastardly Dastan shouted triumphantly, tossing Nitsa into the boot of his car. The evil bride-kidnapping Kazakh, having synchronised his watch for the dot of five ready to steal Masha from her rendezvous with Prosperous Pedros, had seen no more than the flash of blonde hair extensions through his dark glasses before grabbing his victim and bundling her into his boot. Driving away at speed Dastan congratulated himself on the successful kidnapping of the beautiful Masha, totally clueless he had abducted Nitsa in error.
The Pappas stepped outside the hospital just in time to see a suited and booted man in dark sunglasses throw a struggling bundle with long blonde hair into his car boot, slamming the lid down hard before jumping into a car with tinted windows and driving away at great speed.
Having no clue Masha had left for the donkey sanctuary with the smitten old doctor the Pappas wondered if the kidnapping he had just witnessed was that of mail order Masha as she had very distinctive long blonde hair extensions. The panicking Pappas, in a total dither over what he had witnessed, was mightily relieved when Prosperous Pedros drove up in the pick-up, complaining “Is it too much to expect Masha to be waiting? She promised to be here on the dot of five.”
“She was,” the Pappas exclaimed, presuming Pedros’ rendezvous with Masha confirmed it was indeed the Russian who had been grabbed. “Masha was just here, I saw her with my very own eyes being kidnapped,” he asserted, instantly creating the impression he was a reliable witness.
“Are you saying yous just saw Masha being kidnapped?” Prosperous Pedros asked. “We must report her abduction to the authorities immediately. Jump in and we’ll head to the police station round the corner.”
Chapter 40
A Borscht Stained Memory
Stavroula was at her wit’s end with her amnesiac father. Despite the doctor pronouncing her well enough to go home she insisted on staying with the old fool. She was still desperate to be on hand to ensure the new will leaving everything to her was signed by Vasilis the second his memory returned.
Her relentless haranguing of Vasilis was beginning to elicit sparks of recognition in his addled brain. If she could only get through to him before Masha returned with the donkey she was certain he would sign his fortune over to his beloved daughter who had never left his side throughout this traumatic time.
That old fool Vasilis closed his eyes, wishing he could as easily block out the sound of the mad old hag claiming to be his wife and the shrew like harpy claiming to be his daughter. He smiled as a clear image of his beloved Onos formed in his mind. The image grew clearer, but now there was something else. He could see a shimmering vision of a voluptuous beauty clad in a gold sequin mini dress sitting astride the donkey. “Focus,” Vasilis told himself, inwardly squinting as the mental picture intensified. The blonde beauty had a blood red stain on her breast, triggering deep memories that had been repressed whilst he was in his coma.
Suddenly bolting upright Vasilis experienced a eureka moment. “It was borscht, not blood. It was borscht all over Masha’s dress. It spilled out of the Tupperware box all down ‘er front whiles we was on the donkey.” Turning to Stavroula he said accusingly, “Yous wouldn’t eat ‘er borscht, yous said it was nasty foreign muck.”
“Now don’t upset yourself father, just try to relax,” Stavroula soothed, realising she needed him to remember her fondly before she whipped out the will. Fortunately the doctor in charge of Vasilis’ case had gone to the donkey sanctuary with Masha so she still had some time left to work on the old fool.
Chapter 41
Wasting Police Time
Everyone sprang to attention in the police station when Prosperous Pedros and the Pappas turned up to report the horrendous abduction of mail order Masha, the much treasured Paraliakos weather girl. The Pappas provided a completely useless description of the vehicle used in the kidnap, only certain it had tinted windows. His description of the kidnapper was no better, limited to suited, booted and sun-glassed.
“I think he may have black hair, I can’t be certain officer, I only glimpsed him for the merest second,” the Pappas apologised.
“Contact the FBI at once and check if the escapee Marvin the Mincer has dark hair,” the officer instructed his team, desperately hoping Masha hadn’t fallen into the warped clutches of the American serial killer with a predilection for chopping and stuffing.
Turning to Pedros and the Pappas he asked “We must follow all leads. Do you know if Masha had any known enemies or any more deranged admirers?”
“Her husband Vasilis is in the hospital recuperating from a brutal attack by an unknown madman on the loose,” the Pappas volunteered. “He won’t be able to tell you anything about his attacker though as he’s only just come out of a coma and hasn’t recovered his memory.”
“So in addition to an escaped serial killer there is also a madman on the loose who may see the victim’s wife as a loose end to be tied up,” the officer confirmed.
“Or it could be Masha was his intended victim all along and that old fool Vasilis simply got in his way,” the Pappas suggested.
“There’s this mafia type from Kazakhstan that’s been ‘anging round Astakos with his eye on Masha,” Prosperous Pedros revealed. “Bald Yannis said our village policeman Pancratius is expecting armed police from Athens to assist with his arrest today.”
“Arrest him for what? It isn’t a crime to admire Masha; if it was, half the viewers of the weather report would be under lock and key,” the police officer reasoned.
“They will be arresting him for industrial bribery. He tried to pay off the mayor to turn a blind eye to opening a gold mine on the landfill site. Pancratius was waiting for armed back-up as he thought this Dastan character ‘as a gun.”
The police officer went off to consult with Pancratius by telephone, returning to say he would indeed be adding Dastan to the list of possible kidnappers as it was confirmed he had an obsessive interest in Masha. “I’ll have to add her husband to the list of suspects too, these matters are more often than not domestic.”
“But her husband is a dribbling fool that can’t even remember his own name and has no recollection of being married to Masha,” the Pappas objected.
“He has to be investigated, his amnesia could be a cunning act,” the police officer insisted, determined to grill Vasilis himself.
A police team was sent to Astakos and another to the hospital, in the hope they might find a more reliable witness to the kidnapping than the Pappas. An All Points Alert was put out to the ports and airports, with road blocks established to stop and search vehicles. The television news was saturated with images of Masha, with appeals for any sightings of the kidnapped weather girl and her dark haired, suited and booted, sun-glassed abductor.
Police soon zoned in on the hospital security guard who’d attracted Nitsa’s eye. “I was right outside at five on the dot and didn’t see any kidnapping,” he told the police.
“Did you see anything out of the ordinary at all? Did you see Masha?”
“No, if she’d been there I would have asked for her autograph, I’m a big fan. The only thing that sticks out is some hideous old crone who was trying to give me the come on,” the security guard remembered. “Actually, I did just step inside to get away from her, for all I knew she might have accused me of sexual harassment. Oh no, you don’t suppose the kidnapping happened then?”
The police officer who had interviewed Pedros and the Pappas arrived at Vasilis’ hospital room, shocked to discover the octogenarian ranting on about donkeys and blood red soup was actually lucky enough to be married to Masha. When he’d insisted the husband was under suspicion, Vasilis was not the spouse he’d imagined. Nevertheless he took an instant dislike to the gibbering old fool and decided to interrogate him.
“Kyrios, I don’t want to disturb you but I have some questions to put to you.”
“Yous is in luck as my memory ‘as just come back,” Vasilis replied.
&n
bsp; “Now do you have any recollection about the vicious attack that landed you in the hospital? Do you think you could identify your attacker in a line-up?”
“I wasn’t attacked yous moron. I slipped in a pool of borscht and cracked my ‘ead open on the floor. I clearly remember lying there for ages wishing Masha wasn’t such a slut in the kitchen an’ ‘ad cleaned up the soup. Onos did ‘er best to lick it up but eventually I must ‘ave passed out an’ then woke up in ‘ere in a coma.”
“So, is it possible this Onos character attacked you rather than an unknown madman on the loose?”
“Onos is my donkey, yous half-witted cretin. She was trying to ‘elp me. I just told yous no one attacked me, I slipped in the borscht.”
Not liking Vasilis’ tone the police officer broached the matter of Masha’s kidnapping rather indelicately, saying “What do you know about your wife’s kidnapping? Whilst it is possible the escaped serial killer or the obsessed Kazakh has her in their clutches, I am of the opinion you paid someone to abduct Masha?”
All the colour drained completely from Vasilis’ face, leaving him looking like a pitiful sheet of wrinkled parchment against his white pillow. A horribly soulful pitiful moan left his lips, then fighting for air he screamed at the top of his lungs “Masha, Masha my love.”
“Yes, I’m coming, darling. Can you believe Pedros didn’t turn up with the pick-up or else I’d have brought Onos to see yous,” the dulcet tones of Masha wafted down the hospital corridor.
Suddenly realising her amnesiac husband had called her by name she broke into a run, shouting “Vasilis, ‘as yous memory come back?”
“Masha,” Vasilis called, giddy with relief to see his wife. The deluded ramblings of the policeman who’d claimed she’d been kidnapped had nearly given him a heart attack.
“I’m ‘ere yous old fool,” Masha cried, grabbing her husband’s hand to place on her stomach as she said “feel that, the baby just kicked.”
The by now very sheepish policeman was at a loss for words. Gathering his composure he interrupted the cosy bedside scene to say “Kyria Masha, do you realise half of Greece’s police force is out looking for you after a report you were kidnapped?”
“I’ve been at the donkey sanctuary,” Masha replied blankly.
“I should never have listened to that odious Pappas,” the police officer shouted. “I knew he looked shifty. I will have him arrested for wasting police time.”
The police officer caught up with the Pappas in the hospital lobby where he was sitting with Sofia, having sent Prosperous Pedros to search for Nitsa to take them home in the taxi.
“You are under arrest for wasting police time,” the police officer snarled, snapping his handcuffs around the Pappas’ wrists. “It is a very serious offence to make such false and wicked claims.”
“What are you on about?” the Pappas gulped.
“There was no kidnapping. Masha is upstairs with her old fool of a husband.”
“This is all my fault,” Sophia confessed. “I persuaded the Pappas to give blood and now he’s not right in the head. I wanted to see if giving blood would reverse his personality transplant.”
“There is nothing amiss with my faculties’ young lady. I saw a woman being thrown into the boot of a car. As I said to the officer it was a momentary glimpse, but she definitely had long blonde hair.”
“I can’t find Nitsa anywhere,” Prosperous Pedros announced, returning to join the others. “She can’t have got very far as ‘er taxi is still parked up outside.”
“Nitsa,” Sofia suddenly screamed. “Perhaps it was her long blonde hair extensions rather than Masha’s that the Pappas saw. Pappa is that possible? Maybe Nitsa was kidnapped by the wicked man in sunglasses.”
“Well I didn’t see the woman’s face, just a lot of hair and some gold beads,” the Pappas replied.
“Nitsa was wearing one of Masha’s cast-off gold beaded dresses,” Sofia shouted.
The police officer studied the three anxious faces before him, reluctantly releasing the Pappas from his handcuffs and asking “So who is this Nitsa?”
“She’s a harmless old lady,” Prosperous Pedros lied. “If my mother ‘ears Nitsa ‘as been kidnapped it will finish her off.”
After taking down Nitsa’s details the police officer instructed his teams to start searching for a sweet old woman who had been abducted. There seemed no reason for anyone to kidnap Nitsa so they worked on the assumption the kidnapper had mistaken her for Masha, naturally sending the Russian mail order bride into a fury when she heard.
“’Ow could anyone in their right mind mistake that hideous old hag for me? As soon as Vasilis is out of the hospital I’m off to the plastic surgery clinic.”
Chapter 42
The Pappas Erupts
“You look a bit glum,” Quentin remarked to Bald Yannis when he popped in the hardware shop for some illegal pepper spray Deirdre had demanded to protect herself from possible kidnappers and random serial killers. The shop was crowded with clamouring villagers all desperate for the defensive spray and all sick with worry about Nitsa’s fate.
“I expect you’re sorry you said all those nasty things about Nitsa, now that she’s missing,” Deirdre sneered.
“He ‘asn’t said anything we ‘aven’t all thought,” a tense Toothless Tasos opined.
“She’s a game old bird. If I ‘ad to put my money on ‘er or the Kazakh I’d go with Nitsa,” Bald Yannis grunted.
The police had ruled out Marvin the Mincer as Nitsa’s kidnapper when the FBI had caught him on a shoplifting spree, stealing pillows from a Texas department store, leaving the evil Kazakh as the prime suspect.
“Here comes the Pappas,” Quentin observed. “Maybe he has more up to date news.”
“Oh Quentin, please don’t encourage the odious little man,” Deirdre objected too late as Quentin had already waved him over.
The benevolent mood the Pappas had been in ever since his blood transfusion had begun to evaporate. He imagined the gossiping Goth girl would be laughing about how she’d tricked him into giving blood in some kind of warped experiment, and the sight of Iraklis trundling by on his tricycle reminded him his house was still like a pig sty without his dogsbody helper. The insufferable police officer’s attempt to arrest him had raised his blood pressure to dangerous levels, but the tipping point that sent him ballistic occurred when he walked into the hardware shop and recognized Bald Yannis’ blow up mannequin.
“You thieving malaka,” he erupted. “How did you get your hands on my Gloria?”
“I wondered ‘ow long it would take yous to recognise yous blow up sex doll,” Bald Yannis crowed in front of the packed shop of Astakostans, ripping the hideous old lady dress from the Pappas’ vinyl bedfellow to expose Gloria in all her glory.
Chapter 43
Shower Me with Gold
Dastan the Kazakh had been driving north for hours, hoping to sneak across the Bulgarian border without being detected. Even though his gold mine plans had fallen through he had the main prize in his possession, with the magnificent Masha stashed in the car boot. Her incessant banging was beginning to grate on his nerves so he pulled over to the side of a deserted road, hoping to quieten her with a kiss. Once she realised he had successfully stolen her as his bride in the traditional Kazakh courting ritual he was sure she would be compliant.
Stepping outside he looked around to double check the road was deserted before opening the boot to get his hands on his prize. Flipping the lid he recoiled in horror at the sight of the hideous old crone masquerading as Masha.
“What’s the matter, dont’s yous wants to ravish me and shower me with gold?” Nitsa cackled, dragging herself out of the boot and knocking Dastan out cold with the car jack.
Leaping into the driver’s seat she reversed over her evil kidnapper for good measure, before placing a call on Dastan’s mobile phone.
It was close to midnight when ‘Mono Ellinika Trofima’ erupted in an enormous cheer when Tall Tomas announce
d, “That was Nitsa on the phone, she’s no clue where she is, but she’s on ‘er way ‘ome.”
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