...At the city’s airport, at eight o’clock in the evening... Paco Pinilla, bald, thin, tall, with extremely pale skin, a ‘stretched’ face and features that make him look a bit ‘slow’... He is waiting for the arrival of flight IB347 from Barcelona. The loudspeakers announce its arrival:

"DING, DONG!" "Iberia Airlines announces the arrival from Barcelona of flight such-and-such…!" "DING, DONG!"

A short while later, after the automatic doors open, Antonio Pinilla, better known as ‘the Butcher’, and his wife Ángeles emerge from the arrivals hall.

The man is carrying a rather large travel bag, the woman a smaller one. As soon as he sees them, Paco goes over and hugs his brother:

"Glad to see you, Antonio!"

"Bloody hell, it’s only been a week! Did everything go well? Is everything sorted as I told you?" asks the ‘Butcher’.

“There’s a small detail I’ll tell you about in a moment, but first, let me say hello to Ángeles.” Paco then walks over to the woman and hugs her, giving her two kisses.

“Goodness, Paco, always so affectionate! You never change!”

“Listen, Paco! What do you mean by that ‘little detail’?” The impatient ‘Butcher’ doesn’t like improvising; he wants everything planned and thought through.

"It turns out the client has said he won’t pay until we’ve done the job... He doesn’t trust us!" Now Paco has brought him up to speed and managed to do exactly what he wanted to avoid: putting him in a right foul mood:

"What a bastard! If he doesn’t trust us…! He could have said so when we spoke on the phone; at least we’d have saved ourselves the trip."

"Anyway, I told him you’d be livid, and we’ve agreed to meet tonight at ten at his nightclub."

"Well done! I’m going to give that bastard a piece of my mind and make him cough up the cash as agreed!" changing the subject. "And everything else, did you do it as I told you?‘

’Yeah, I’ve located the villa. I’ve been sleeping there myself all week since I’ve been here. The intel was spot on. The owners haven’t turned up… or anyone else!

"Is there electricity?"

"Yes, Antonio! I’ve even plugged in the kettle. I’ve also been tailing the ‘pigeon’, and he’s a creature of habit – he goes to the same nightclub every night."

"Was it difficult?"

"No! With the details the client gave me, that was enough; the ‘Gypsy’ is a drug dealer everyone knows."

"Right then, let’s go! We’ll pop round the villa to drop off the bag, and then we’ll go and find that bastard at the nightclub."

The three of them leave the airport and, in a hire car that Paco had booked a week earlier using false documents, head for the villa in question.

…Meanwhile, at Luis and Miguel’s little bar, Ponce can’t think of an excuse that might convince his wife to let him go to ‘La Tarántula’ tonight to find out more about the couple’s photograph.

He thinks of his friend Diego; he knows the case is slipping through his fingers. In reality, he has no authority to investigate this matter, but deep down he is still a ‘vocational investigator’; he always wanted to be one. Besides, he is stubborn, and this ‘IVONNE’ business is turning into a challenge for him. He finally decides to continue with his “amateur” investigation, although he realises he’s going to need help, so he decides to seek out the assistance his friend Diego can provide to get to the bottom of the matter:

“Hey, Luis! Does the phone work?” he asks one of the owners.

“As far as I know, it was working just a moment ago.”

With that sorted, he turns to him and dials a number that will help him track down Diego.

Nerón, “Bait” and Diego had set up a modern detective agency three years ago. Nerón had left the police force and, together with “Bait”, a computer expert, they were handling all the more or less serious cases in the city. “Avoiding”, if possible, cases involving divorce and infidelity.

Diego left the agency a year later, saying it wasn’t compatible with his work as a journalist, although he remained on very good terms with his former partners.

"Nero speaking...! Hello?"

“Hello, Nero! Do you know who this is?”

“Sorry... I can’t place you right now!”

“What a detective! If that’s how you do everything!” exclaimed Ponce jokingly.

“Bloody hell, I know you now! You’re Javier... Javier Ponce! How are you? It’s been ages since I heard from you. How are you getting on?”

"Everything’s fine, my son’s growing up and the family’s well… And how are you lot getting on with the agency? I understand, Nero, that you’re landing all the big jobs…?"

"We’re not complaining; we’re working hard for the 'PPP' and the 'PTSOE' (Abbreviations of the names of two fictional political parties). With all the political turmoil going on, they can’t stop investigating each other."

"And how do you manage to work with both of them?"

"With diplomacy… and the odd friend who gives us a hand."

"I bet as well as giving a hand, he’s also getting a bit of action…"

"What can I say, you already know how all this works. You’ve reminded me that I’ll pop round to see you one of these days; I need you to fill me in on ‘Colet’, you know who I mean."

"'Colet’, the 'PPP' MP?"

"Yes! It’s about a property firm going bust, which apparently he was involved in."

"Bloody hell! Not a single one of them’s clean. Come round whenever you like!

Changing the subject, which is why I rang you, your ex-partner Diego. Has he moved house yet?"

"Yes, a month ago. In fact, he was just here a little while ago; I don’t know what business he’s got with ‘Bait’, they spent quite a while on the computer looking up stuff about Dr ‘Mirinda’, the new president of ‘Realeño’. Why do you ask?"

"I need to speak to him and I don’t know his new number."

"Write this down... it’s 644 187 334" The investigator gives it to him without any problem.

"Thanks, Nerón, and keep up the good work!"

"You too, Ponce! And remember that one of these days I’ll pop round the courts for what we’ve been discussing."

"Whenever you like!"

Ponce hangs up the phone and picks it up again, immediately dialling the number Nero has given him:

"RING RING…! RING RING…!" "Hello…? Who is this…?"

"Diego… it’s Javier Ponce!"

"Hello, Javierito! How’s it going…? You’ve been meaning to ring me for ages, you little rascal…"

"Well, sorry about that, but I’ve been swamped. Are you still interested in doing the feature we discussed?"

"Of course! Now more than ever, since they’ve appointed my ‘ex’ as editor-in-chief of ‘EL PRIMERO DEL DIA’, I haven’t done any work for her. I’ve got things in the pipeline but haven’t signed up for any features yet."

"Well, I’ll see you in a bit at “La Fachina”, you’re still hanging out there… I suppose?"

"Yeah, you know it’s like my home; the only thing missing is staying the night! And the 'Lerona' lads; they’re a brilliant bunch!"

"Don’t be late! And don’t make any plans for tonight, you’re coming with me to 'La Tarántula'." In one fell swoop, Ponce has just planned his friend’s evening.

"All right! But what does Raquel say about this?" referring to his wife.

"We’ll ring her from 'La Fachina' and make up an excuse; if she knows I’m with you, she won’t get angry!"

Inside the 'La Fachina' pub.

…A few hours later, Diego walks into the pub ‘La Fachina’; Javier Ponce is waiting for him at the bar, almost right by the entrance.

"Hi, Javierito! You rascal! You look great!"

"Hi, Diego, always so full of beans!"

"‘Come on...!’ ‘Tell me what’s going on? So you can make up your mind about going out…!"

"It’s not what you think. I have to go for professional reasons, and as I’ve already told you, it’s something that interests you."

Jota Lerona approaches them from behind the bar:

"Good evening, Diego! Shall I get you the usual…?"

“Ah! And before I forget, Dolores rang and said to pop round to ‘EL PRIMERO’ whenever you can.”

“Did she say it was urgent?” asks Diego.

“No! She didn’t say it was urgent.”

“Thanks, Jota! And yes, give me a ‘whiskyto’, just with ice cubes!”

“Don’t you want it with ‘tonticola’?”

“No, it makes you fat! From now on I’ll drink it neat; I’ve got to get rid of this belly, every time I see myself naked in the mirror, I’m disgusted with myself!”

“And you… what’ll you have, Javier?” asks the barman and pub owner.

“I’ll have the same as him.”

With the order placed, Ponce tells Diego all the details, including the theft of the photographs and the lack of interest shown by Judge Aguilera in everything that’s happened...

…Meanwhile, at another bar, the Pinilla family head to their meeting; they’ve already popped round to the villa and left their luggage there.

At the entrance to “La Tarántula”, the metal barrier is half-open, so Paco Pinilla tries to lift it a little further, but from inside, someone does it for him whilst exclaiming in a raised voice:

“The club’s closed! It doesn’t open until eleven…! And if you’re suppliers, you’re supposed to come at six…!”

It is the voice of the head of security, Benito Bestard, whom we already know from our visit to Javier Ponce at the courthouse.

“Listen, mate, we’ve got an appointment with your boss; we’re due at ten!” Antonio Pinilla doesn’t hold back, and in the same tone explains the reason for their visit; from his manner, it’s clear he doesn’t want anyone messing with him.

“With Mr Colón?”

“Yes, with Bartolomé Colón!”

Entrance to the Nightclub

“Well…! Wait here, I’ll go and see if it’s true!” A few minutes later, Benito emerges from the room he had disappeared into earlier and approaches them:

“Mr Colón is waiting for you, come on in and follow me!”

Just then, the metal barrier comes down again. He leads them across the nightclub to a small office near the toilets, at the back of the room. On the way, Ángeles remarks:

"There’s a hell of a lot of cash in here! Have we fallen short, Antonio?"

“Shut up, Ángeles, we’ll talk later!” her husband orders her; he hates being interrupted when he’s tense and on edge about what might happen.

Once inside the nightclub’s office…:

“Mr Colón, here are the gentlemen you were expecting,” Benito announces to the visitors.

“Right, Benito, show them in!” He stands up and waits for the three of them to enter. “You must be Antonio Pinilla, the one I spoke to on the phone?”

“Yes, that’s me, and this is my wife Ángeles! You already know Paco!”

"Please, take a seat! And you, Benito, you can leave… and close the door behind you." The employee (Benito) leaves as instructed by his boss.

"Let’s see…! My brother told me you don’t want to pay the twenty-five thousand euros as you and I had agreed…" That’s how Antonio Pinilla, ‘The Butcher’, gets straight to the point; when it comes to money, he doesn’t mess about.

"That’s not quite right! I told him I’d prefer to pay later, but my order still stands."

"No! We won’t accept that! We always take payment upfront; let’s settle this! Give us half now to cover our expenses, and we’ll forget the matter."

“Come on, Antonio! That’s not the point. It’s not that I don’t trust you, but I’d prefer to pay later.”

“I’ve already told you how it is!”

"OK, all right, I’ll give you the money now! But remember, what I want is for this to serve as a lesson to others,cit has to be made clear, ***cso that the others don’t keep delaying their payments and keep taking me for a ride."

"We’re professionals! ‘Nacho’ must have told you that when I mentioned us… But when it comes to money, we make no concessions!"

Bartolomé Colón opens one of the drawers in his desk and pulls out wads of 100 € notes and a few 500 € notes, until he has the agreed sum for the ‘job’ (€ 25,000).

"Do you want to count it?’ asks the payer."

‘"Ángeles will take care of that!"

“Hand me the money, Colón!” orders the woman decisively; she does so with a firmness she likes to see in her husband.

Whilst Ángeles counts the money with great speed, Colón takes the opportunity to clarify the job:

“I suppose you’ve got it all sorted? You’re not going to get the wrong guy, are you?”

“My brother Paco’s been following him for several days now, so there’s no chance of confusion.”

"Are you going to do it tonight?"

"Yes! And tomorrow or the day after… they’ll find his body."

"That’s right!" says Ángeles, putting the money into her large handbag, perfect for such a special load.

"Right then, come on! Let’s go, we’re running out of time!" orders the ‘Butcher’.

With everything sorted, the familiar trio leave the office and cross the room again; at the door...:

"Have you finished yet…? Wait, I’ll open the barrier for you!" He unconsciously switches between formal and informal address, and so does Benito Bestard; he lifts it, and more unexpectedly, two familiar figures appear before him from outside: Javier Ponce and Diego.

“Bloody hell, what a surprise, what a duo!” exclaims Benito at the sight.

The Pinilla and Ángeles brothers, without uttering a word, take the opportunity to leave the nightclub.

“What a pretty girl! Does she work here?” Diego’s character “bursts out” and he can’t help making a comment.

The “Butcher”, who hears him, shoots him a murderous look, whilst grabbing the woman by the arm and pulling her towards him, cursing Diego:

"What’s wrong with you, you bastard? Haven’t you ever seen a woman before?"

“Well, yes…! But not many as pretty as this one!” It takes more than this insult to rein in his friend Diego’s “tongue”.

Faced with this situation and fearing things might escalate, Benito interrupts the argument:

“Weren’t you lot leaving?”

The “Butcher”, without another word, turns and walks away from the entrance.

"What a bloke, what a mad dog face!" now it’s Ponce’s turn to speak.

"Leave him be! He must be on something!" Benito continues, trying to calm things down, which he manages to do:

"Come on, Benito…! Let’s head to the bar and have a few drinks!" suggests Diego, taking the opportunity to have a look around the disco.

“No…! Let’s do something better!” before he finishes his suggestion, as someone approaches them. “Here comes Quiñonero, the bouncer. Wait for him to arrive and the three of us will go for dinner, just like in the old days. I’ll treat you at the pizzeria on the corner.”

“Can’t it be seafood? Just for once, let yourself go!”

“Come on, Diego! Things aren’t looking good enough to treat you to seafood; we’ll have some pizzas… they’re cheaper and just as filling.”

Having given Quiñonero his instructions, Benito Bestard leads them to the pizzeria.

A few minutes after the trio leave, the ‘Butcher’ reappears and addresses the security guard Quiñonero, a man not very tall but with an athletic build, typical of those who spend several hours a day at the gym.

"Let’s see! Where’s that faggot?" asks Antonio Pinilla, the ‘Butcher’, furiously and belligerently.

"What’s the matter, ‘mate’? Who are you talking about?"

"The faggot who was here a while ago with two others!"

"Hey!!! Calm down, this isn’t a faggot’s disco!"

The shouting attracts the attention of Bartolomé Colón, the club’s owner, with whom ‘The Butcher’ had spoken earlier:

"What’s going on? What’s the matter, Pinilla?"

Now calmer thanks to Colón’s presence, he recounts what happened:

"As we were leaving, some bloody faggot was hitting on my wife."

“Come on, calm down! As you can see, he’s already left,” says Colón

“I’ll find him! I’m going to tear him to pieces! Nobody messes with my wife!” These are all threats aimed at Diego, for his audacity in messing with Ángeles; when he carries out his “job”, Heredia (the drug dealer) will be just like Diego to him, that’s how he plans to ‘get his own back’ on Diego for now… "And you!" addressing Colón… "If you need anything from us over the next few days, go to a pub on Paseo Mallorca called ‘El Rey’, ask for ‘La Lena’ and leave her a message." In a loud, provocative tone, which is usually how he speaks when he’s angry.

"I know it, I know where it is; now go and do your job." the order slips out; bad news!

"Don’t tell me what to do!" the 'Butcher' snaps again.

"Calm down, don’t get angry with me too!" Colón begins to doubt whether they’ll be able to carry out their 'assignment'.

"I’m off, you’ve all got on my nerves!"

…At the pizzeria on the corner, oblivious to what has happened, Diego bombards Benito Bestard with questions, as is his custom:

"Javier told me you’ve got over thirty men working for you. And I see you’re running Colón’s nightclubs?"

"Diego, you’re still the same as ever..." referring to his way of asking questions. "Yes, I’m in charge of security at the clubs. This bloke you’ve seen is my brother in law Quiñonero, and he’s been foisted on me by the family."

"Well, he doesn’t look out of place; the bloke’s a proper hunk. Now what I don’t know is what the ‘roof’."

"I put him in this job so he wouldn’t get up to any more nonsense. Up until he was sixteen, he was a bit of a ‘little rascal’, going about snatching bags from old ladies, until one fine day I said ‘enough is enough’. Since then, I’ve kept a close eye on him. And the best way is to have him working as a security guard by my side." Benito lets the details spill out, as he considers himself among ‘mates’.

"I thought so, this thing of yours...!" Diego starts one of his “sailor’s jokes”.

"Diego, don’t ramble on, I can see where you’re going with this!" warns Benito.

"What does Benito mean by that, Diego?" Javier Ponce joins in the ‘intrigue’.

"It turns out Colón has a reputation as a drug dealer, although they haven’t caught him red-handed yet." reports the journalist.

“Blimey, I didn’t know that!” exclaims the official, surprised.

“Well, it’s true! Every day there are more people funding his operations,” he continues.

"Well, as someone who works in the courts, I was unaware of everything you’re telling me. By the way, do I know any of the people involved in this whole business of funding the ‘bloody’ drug trade?" With what Diego has just said, his ‘ears are already ringing…’; in case he happens to be friends with any of them.

"Not most of them, no. They’re just people who put their money in, at least a hundred thousand euros, and after a year they’ve made double that in pure profit. Colón runs the whole operation; and precisely because he’s the coordinator of everything, after all expenses are deducted, he makes ten times that amount, or much more, for every euro…

"What if things go wrong and they get caught?"

"If any operation goes wrong, nothing happens! They usually spread the risk across several operations; they always make a lot of money."

"And do you know anyone involved?" asks Ponce, her curiosity now piqued by what Diego is telling her.

"I know a few… like Trinarejos; it also seems that Lozano, the supermarket guy, is in on all this, and recently I’ve been given a lead I’m investigating, which would link Dr Mirinda, the president of ‘Realeño’, who’s in dire financial straits and might also be involved, but I’m not certain about him."

"Bloody hell! Well, everyone’s in on it here."

“And those who’ve been bought off… there are more of them than you can imagine.”

"Shut up! Don’t you dare mention any names I might recognise." Ponce prefers to leave it at that; it’s all a bit too much for him.

"Don’t listen to Diego, he watches too many films!" Here, at last, Benito chimes in; given he’s in security, the man must know something about all this…

"Films!? Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed anything odd about ‘La Tarántula’? Especially lately?

"The truth is, a few odd characters have turned up now and then, but… I just do my job; that’s what I’m paid for. You lot know me and you know I’ve got absolutely nothing to do with drugs."

“What’s been going on ‘lately’?” asks Ponce:

“It seems that for the past few months, Colón and Trinarejos, along with other dealers in the country’s coastal tourist areas, have been planning a big one… They want to bring in huge shipments of cocaine, having reached an agreement with a new Colombian cartel, which will supply it at a much lower price. They’ve already done, shall we say, ‘test runs’, and it seems the product is good."

"And you, Diego, how do you know all this?" asks Ponce, surprised by his knowledge of the matter.

"Easy! Although this might seem like something kept secret, there are always leaks from some dealer who lets slip more than they should; and that’s how word starts to spread. I’ll also be honest with you and tell you that some things are passed on to me by my sources within the police."

"Bloody hell, Diego! You know everything… But let’s get down to business" as he pulls out the signed photo. "Benito, have a look at this photo and tell me if the place looks familiar?" Ponce thinks it’s a good time to find out how much the ‘security guard’ knows about the mysterious ‘Ivonne’.

"Well..." looking at the photo in surprise. "It looks like ‘La Tarántula’."

“It is ‘La Tarántula’!” asserts Ponce. “...And the woman, do you know her?” Staring intently, unable to tear his gaze away from the photo, Benito hesitates to answer. At which the officer snaps at him: “Do you know her or not? Answer me, or have you gone dumb?”

“Actually, I do know who she is! But I haven’t seen her for over six months.” Benito finally answers the question.

“And who is she?” Ponce presses on, not wanting to miss this chance to find out more about the deceased.

 “Her name is ‘IVONNE’... and she used to come to ‘La Tarántula’ almost every night, always just before closing time; I reckon she had a thing with the boss.”

"With Colón?"

"Yes! With Colón, but that’s normal for him; he doesn’t have a steady girl and if one comes within range, he’ll have a go at her. He’s a bit of a womaniser. But why are you asking all this?"

"Well, because this is the photo of the woman we found dead in the flat on Calle San Bernardo, the one you’ve come to ask about this morning."

“Look, Javier! You’re not thinking I’ve got anything to do with this dead woman business, are you?”

“Man! I don’t see you as the type to kill anyone, but honestly, you’ve got me on edge this morning!”

“I’m telling you, I’ve got nothing to do with it!”

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist! …And her companion; do you know him as well?”

"He used to come with her regularly; I think they worked and lived together."

"And where did they work?" Diego asks now.

"At a ‘toples’ on Calle 2 de Mayo, the one that ends at the seafront promenade; I think it’s called… ‘La Flor Roja’.

"I think I know the place; it’s run by a bloke called Marcial, who was involved in a credit card forgery scandal." Once again, Diego shows his side as a journalist and someone who knows what’s going on in the city’s scene.

“I can see you’re a regular there; you seem to know it well!”

“Yes! And it wouldn’t do you any harm to get to know it too, instead of hanging around ‘the red-light district’ so much, your dick’s going to fall off in bits.”

"Who’s going to have to get to know it... it’s me!" exclaims Ponce; all this is new to him; he’s never been a man of many experiences, let alone of this sort…

"Don’t worry, Javier! You’ll be in good company! Everyone knows Diego in all these ‘dives’." Benito takes “revenge” for the insinuations made by his friend.

“Benito, don’t get too clever for your boots…!” Diego doesn’t like receiving them; from the looks of it, he’s forgotten the old saying: «What goes round comes round.».

The three diners, now talking about other matters, continue with their dinner, which, with almost everything cleared up, continues in an atmosphere of trust; the three have known each other for many years.

…Around midnight, at the pub ‘El Rey’, located on Paseo Mallorca, a peculiar group of relatives gather:

"Hello, Lena! Aren’t you going to give your little sister a kiss?" asks Ángeles, the ‘Butcher’s’ wife.

The barmaid behind the bar, arranging bottles on the shelf opposite, turns round, surprised...:

“Blimey, it’s you...! And Antonio... and even Paquito! What a surprise! Hang on, I’ll be right round the bar!”

‘Lena’ kisses the unexpected visitors one after the other:

"MUA…! MUA…! and… MUA AGAIN…!" "What are you doing here? Why didn’t you let me know?" she asks reproachfully.

"We’ve only just arrived; we’ve come to carry out a job." —Antonio Pinilla, ‘the Butcher’, explains; his sister is well aware of his ‘activities’.

"And how long are you going to be here?" once the surprise has passed, ‘Lena’ asks.

"Just a few days; as always, we’ve left this address in case anyone comes looking for us, and we’ll ring you if there’s any news..."

“Of course, Antonio, no problem! But what shall I get you? What would you like to drink?”

“Nothing to drink, we’re in a hurry! What we want is ‘horse’, for me and for Paco… and you know… ‘coke’ for Ángeles. I suppose you’ve got some of that round here?”

"Well... I’m sorry, but I’m afraid not! Lately, the ‘Fifth Group’ have been breathing down our necks, especially a bastard from Seville… And the boss doesn’t want any trouble until this ‘pressure’ blows over."

"What’s this policeman like? The one from Seville? " ‘The Butcher’ thinks he looks like someone he knows.

"He’s a tall cop, in his forties or so; a few weeks ago he came in here and asked everyone for their ID."

"Do you remember his name?"

"Why? Do you know him?" Now it’s “Lena” who’s interested in his possible connection.

"It could be...! The bastard won’t “spill the beans”.

"He said something about Sanchís... Antonio Sanchís, that’s the name of that bastard. The boss knew him too" already taking it for granted that his brother in-law knows him. "I asked him and he told me he used to be in Barcelona."

"Bloody hell, what a small world! That bastard was the one who got me sent to ‘La Modelo’ years ago; I’ve been itching to track him down!"

Paco, knowing his brother’s reactions all too well, interrupts him:

"Remember, Antonio, we’ve got a job to do; don’t go getting mixed up with this bloody Sevillian now."

"Take it easy, little brother!" patting him gently on the cheek. "Tonight, the job comes first; there’ll be time later to settle the score with that bastard. And tell me, ‘Lena’, where can we get some ‘horse’?

“The easiest thing is for you to go to Plaza Cuadrera. Do you know where that is?”

“Of course I do!” replies Paco Pinilla, at which his brother and Ángeles look at him.

“There, at number three, on the second floor, ‘El Seco’ has everything.” He finishes by specifying the place and who the dealer is.

"Bloody hell, ‘El Seco’, how he’s ‘made it’! He used to be a piece of shit! He used to be a drug dealer!"

"Well, for the past year the bloke’s really made his mark; he controls the whole ‘Chinatown’ area and others..." now it’s ‘Lena’ who’s updating the information.

"And how have ‘El Mármol’ and ‘El Marqués’ treated him?" The ‘Butcher’ knows everyone in this ‘trade’; he’s practically seen them all ‘grow up’ and knows exactly what they’re like.

"They say the three of them have reached an agreement." ‘Lena’ clarifies.

‘Good grief, 'El Seco'! Around here, «if you don’t run, you’ll be left behind». Come on, Ángeles, say goodbye to “Lena”! We’re off!’

As the sinister trio leave ‘El Rey’s’, they don’t notice that from a red car parked almost directly opposite them, but on the other side of the road. A camera lens is trained on them, and they hear the characteristic ‘CLICK’ as they are photographed. Behind the lens is the eye of police officer Antonio Sanchís.

“Do you know them?” asks his partner on duty.

“No...! But the one with the moustache... looks familiar.” Sanchís hasn’t recognised the 'Butcher' yet.

“Shall we follow them?”

“No, leave it!” What a shame! You can tell his memory’s failing him, if «time doesn’t forgive, mate».

The trio, now in their hire car, head towards the spot ‘Lena’ has indicated. That bloke’s a real character, you can tell he’s starting to make a name for himself among the locals…! In Plaza Cuatrera, the ‘Butcher’ parks the car and remarks:

"Look, it must be there!" Pointing to the second floor of an old building from which the light of a white bulb shines, a signal used in these parts to indicate that the coast is clear. "Come on, Paco, get out of the car and bring the ‘paper bags’!"

"For how many days?" Make the most of it and stock up the ‘pantry’.

"I don’t know! Nine packets, that’ll be enough for the three of us. Have you got enough money?"

"Yes! I’ve got five hundred euros, more than enough!"

"Tell whoever’s there to be careful not to give you any bad stuff! Warn him who he’s dealing with! Don’t let him think we’re a bunch of 'suckers'!

"Trust Paco, he knows his stuff and not even God can fool him," says Ángeles, coming to his defence.

After that, Paco heads towards the flat, as if he already knew the way. After about ten minutes, he returns and gets into the car, back in the back seat:

"Come on, bring the stuff!" ‘The Butcher’ hadn’t mentioned needing any up to that point; it seemed his brother was the only one using it.

“Here you go, mate! Are you going through the withdrawal or what?” asks Paco, which is strange, given that he’s confronting his brother with this question.

“Don’t talk to me like that or I’ll slap you!”

The 'Butcher' pulls a small plastic tube from his pocket, opens the squared paper folded into a ‘little bag’, and uses the same tube to scoop out a little, taking great care not to spill any. He places the tube in one of his nostrils and snorts the coveted white powder; without pausing, he snorts again through the other nostril of his battered nose. He’s been choosing to take it this way for a while now; syringes no longer appeal to him…

"I don’t know how there are idiots who shoot it up, when it’s so good like this! Here, Paco!‘ Passing him the little plastic tube.

’What about me? Give me my line!‘ Ángeles demands her “powder”.

’You wait! You’ll have your coke when you’re at the club; the effect wears off too quickly for you!" points out her husband, the ’Butcher’.

Paco Pinilla, from the back seat, takes his dose of coke.

Shortly afterwards, the car sets off for the nightclub Paco knows well from his days as a undercover cop.

…Hours later, at the ‘Mariscal’ nightclub, located near Calle 2 de Mayo, Cándido Heredia, a well-known local dealer, is sitting in a corner of the side bar, his usual spot, drinking a rum and coke, and BLA, BLA... BLA…/.

*What happens next has already been recounted at the beginning of this story, in Chapter I – ‘The Eviction’

.\...“Bloody hell, he’s alive!” exclaims Paco Pinilla.

“No, you idiot! It’s a reflex; everyone does it! Get it over with! This is nothing compared to what I’ll do to that bastard!” referring to the journalist Diego.

Next, using a small key, he unlocks each of the handcuffs and frees his wrists; his arms hang limply. He has just cut through the other ropes that bound him to the chair, and stuffs them into the enormous travel bag they had brought from Barcelona. He does the same with his “tool”, the one he used to slice off the head, as well as the fingers, of the unfortunate drug dealer (Heredia); unplugging the electric saw from a nearby socket and stowing it, along with its long cable, in the travel bag, in short, his ‘work bag’. The rest of Heredia’s body remains deliberately seated in the chair.

"Come on, you, put the sack" the one containing the ‘melon’ (head). "Next to the luggage bag! But be careful not to stain it!” referring to the huge drops of blood oozing from the bottom of the sack, “You know what? Put it inside that plastic bag over there” Pointing to one nearby; having said this and after Paco has done so, the two criminals head for the shower. "I suppose there’ll be enough hot water for both of us?"

"Yeah, I reckon so! I don’t think Ángeles has used it all up!" The woman was the first to shower. "I need a bit of ‘horse’!" The tension makes Paco’s ‘cravings’ kick in and, consequently, his need for an extra ‘dose’.

“Later! When we’re done, hold on!” his brother orders him.

Having finished their bloody carnage and washed the blood of the unfortunate Heredia from their bodies, like macabre penitents, they leave the now fateful villa. Each of them takes something in their hand...

The ‘Butcher’ opens the rear door of the vehicle and places the two travel bags inside, the large one and his wife’s. Paco Pinilla opens the boot of the car and leaves the macabre sack, now wrapped in another plastic bag, to prevent any blood that might seep out from staining the boot liner.

Ángeles joins the “entourage”, carrying a bin bag containing the clothes worn by the Pinilla brothers, which they have taken off after their impromptu shower. And just before getting into the vehicle:

"Ángeles, throw the bag with the stained clothes into that bin! I don’t think it’ll be long before the rubbish lorry comes!"

His wife does as she’s told and quickly returns to the car, getting into the passenger seat.

‘The Butcher’ sits behind the wheel, Paco in the back seat next to the luggage bags and… the special climate-controlled bag with Heredia’s fingers, which his brother holds in such high regard.

They start the car and take the route that will lead them to the spot where, days earlier, Paco Pinilla had been surveying the area.

Following his directions, they arrive at a cliff near the coast, confident that at this ungodly hour, there will be no pedestrians or vehicles about. They park the car almost at the end of the road, which runs almost to the very edge of the cliff. Without turning off the engine:

"Come on, Paco! Get out and throw the sack!" Once again, ‘The Butcher’ is in charge and gives instructions to his brother Paco. Paco gets out of the car, leaving the door open; once outside, he welcomes the cool breeze on his face...

He opens the boot and, with his right hand, takes out the bag, taking care not to get stained by any unexpected drops of blood. He takes a few steps and…

Inside the 'La Fachina' pub.

…A few hours later, Diego walks into the pub ‘La Fachina’; Javier Ponce is waiting for him at the bar, almost right by the entrance.

"Hi, Javierito! You rascal! You look great!"

“Yes, with Bartolomé Colón!”



Inside the 'La Fachina' pub.

…A few hours later, Diego walks into the pub ‘La Fachina’; Javier Ponce is waiting for him at the bar, almost right by the entrance.

"Hi, Javierito! You rascal! You look great!"

“Yes, with Bartolomé Colón!”