Resurrection. The Underwood and Flinch Chronicles: Volume One.

Chapter Six

‘Tell me.’

‘I’m Miguela.’

‘Oh, that’s lovely isn’t it, Cyn?’

‘Yes, charming. But I have no Spanish equivalent, apparently,’ said Cynthia. ‘Cynthia is uniquely English.’

‘Aw,’ said Michelle with a sympathetic look. ‘Never mind, eh?’

‘Ahhh,’ said Luis, returning with the coffees. ‘But in Portuguese of course, there is Cintia.’

‘There you are,’ said Michelle. ‘We can call you Cintia.’

Cynthia smiled. ‘Thank you, Michelle, but I prefer Cynthia. Where’s Keith?’

‘He’s still upstairs trying to read a Spanish newspaper online,’ Michelle’s rings clicked against each other as she pushed her straightened blonde hair back over her ears. ‘Apparently some bloke got his head chopped off in Ibiza.’

Cynthia grimaced. ‘Oh dear, how careless of him. Anyone important?’

‘No, just some druggie bloke. His head turned up on a bench, apparently.’

‘I say,’ said Gerald, ‘I had no idea Ibiza was such a perilous island.’

‘It’s probably them East European Mafias, innit?’ said Michelle. ‘They’re everywhere these days.’

‘Hmm,’ Cynthia murmured. ‘It was on a bench you say?’

‘Yeah, by the seaside.’

‘Do you suppose somebody forgot it?’

‘Eh?’

‘Well, perhaps they were going somewhere and they stopped at the bench for a rest – ’

Gerald frowned. ‘And what? Left their head behind? I doubt it, Cynthia, chap couldn’t have got too far without his head.’

Cynthia sighed. ‘No, Geraldo, perhaps the murderer forgot it.’ She turned to Michelle. ‘Was it in a bag or something?’

‘I dunno, I’ll ask Keith later. He knows the Spanish word for “bag”, so if that’s in the article at least he’ll be able to read that.’

‘Perhaps there’s something about it in the Daily Mail.’ Gerald picked up his newspaper and began to scan the front page.

‘I don’t think you’ll find anything in there, Gerald. It’s yesterday’s edition, remember? You’re not in Hayward’s Heath anymore.’

‘Oh, yes, of course.’ Gerald abandoned his search. ‘Perhaps tomorrow then.’

Cynthia spoke to Michelle. ‘Didn’t you used to live on the coast, in Benidorm?’

Michelle nodded. ‘Yeah, that’s right.’

‘I hear there’s a lot of gangland activity down along the Costas. Is that true?’

Michelle smiled ‘Oh, I wouldn’t know, Cyn. I suppose there’s probably a bit here and there.’

‘It’s just that you said it was probably a mafia thing. Are the East European mafias known for cutting off heads?’

Michelle shrugged. ‘I dunno to be honest. But it wouldn’t surprise me.’

‘Very popular with the terrorists in Iraq for a while, wasn’t it,’ said Gerald. ‘And other places too, I believe.’

Michelle grimaced. ‘It’s bloody disgusting, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, but frightening though,’ said Gerald. ‘Puts the willies up the enemy. That’s what it’s all about, Michelle – fear. Mark my words, whoever did this is trying to put the willies up some enemy.’