Piano Movers busy in Brixham? WORLD EVENTS.

Police Log 239/09

On Saterday, 15 Aug 2009, at around 16:10 I was preambulating in an easterly direcxion along Oxen Cove Park, in Brixham on Devon Constabulary Local Copperin duties. I noticed a bunch of miscreants sitting on a piano in the harbour. Knowing this was a yacht jackin (the owner being a mate of the chief) I immediately blowed my whistle to show the “wrong ‘uns” that the game was up. I alsop shouted at them, “Stop, you scrouts, or you will be in serious truble.” I then walked, briskly, back to the police station where I found some regulation A4 report paper, carbon-paper (2 shits) and a typewriter. I proveeded to type my report and filled a copy in the cabinate and sent one to HQ. It is now approximately 23:45. I finished my report and, as it is the end of my shift, I’m off home.

Sunday 16th august

Bosun Paul Tabram, bright of eye and bushy of tail, was up at larks-fart and noticed a piano had been moved in the night. It was about 9am when he texted, the man with 3 names. No one enjoys The Times, fresh ground Douwe Egberts and a text “ have you movd yor boat” on a Sunday morning. Another text followed “your boat is a mooing by the slipway”. The ashen lipped, tight faced owner then took control of the SONATA YACHTJACKING MYSTERY.

A small boy was dispatched with a telegramme to M Poirot. QUICK STOP STOP WHAT YOU ARE DOING STOP FOULING IN BRIXHAM HARBOUR STOP START NOW STOP STOP ED STOP. A gabardine was grabbed and Poirot yomped down Greenway fields leaping on the roof of the Kingswear - Paddington steam train. Poirot wrestled Kevin Colin Plover to the floor and, with his head out of the footplate, and a shovel at his throat, persuaded the terrified volunteer engine-driver to turn down Brixham Branch line. Sadly the rails had been removed. The train hit a bank of Churston at full tilt (about 10knots) and Poirot escaped the steam, smoke and tortured steel on foot. A horseless carriage, filled with rubbery necked grockles, stopped. The Mr and Mrs Latex and youngsters were tossed out and the famous defective hurtled on to Brixham harbour with Cold Play CDs ringing in his ears.

Frantic discussions took plaice in the harbour. No dabs could be found on the super-yacht but lots of small muscles were picked off the anchor chain. Sadly they were too small to be legally landed so they were confiscated by M P to be ‘used’ later – he is a Belgium and they were very nice little muscles!

M P said there was a strong smell of fish about this case. Yachtjacking is rare – why this boat? – why not the finest sonata, Blues Breaker? – was it for ransom or to KILL THE SERIES? – who had a motive? Maybe a shackle had mysteriously come loose? Could it be “kids larkin’ about” – lock em up/dance on their little scrouts say I – what we need is more community policing …….joy sailing (it has been known)? A Dolph is still incarcerated so is “not in the frame”……….Sonata owners advised to keep watch / stolen to order and re-sprayed in quiet creeks….CTV installed at BYC. Stop now. Ed.

M P was asked to draw on his vast intellect and experience to come to a conclusion. With a twist of his little tache, and a wink worthy of St Tom, he pronounced, in very broken English, “ I’m ferry sorry Ms Linley-Shaw, but wizout my muze, Agatha, I am unable to elp you – I find all ze clews but she makes up ze endingz”

Homme avec trios nome asked his aid for his handbag and pressed a 50F note into M Poirot’s clammy, soft, rather fishy hand. Poirot burst into floods of gratitude (wet his self) because 50F was a lot of money in those days.

We will never know what happened that quiet night but, be assured, it was not the police who saved a piano and the Sonata World Series II climax. Some kind person, totally unknown, rescued the yacht by securing it to a buoy and he deserves a round of drinks……

The End – or is it……………..