#AMAZON #KINDLE #READERS #MYSTERY The Conchenta Conundrum by Paul Anthony - an extract from #1 in the Davies King trilogy Conundrum…. A dilemma of some magnitude, A riddle for consideration, A problem encountered, A mystery to unravel, A puzzling question, An enigma to solve, A challenge, A poser, ….Conundrum When she died on an island in the middle of an ocean, only her family cared. When she was taken from her people, only they noticed. When she had gone from the world she loved, it was too late to ask the question: Why? Only her closest family knew she had died. Only her mother held her at the time of death. Only her mother knew the answer to why her daughter, Alicia Andorinha, died on a lonely island in the Atlantic. But a tall white lady, with rings on her fingers and flowers in her hair, arrived on the island and asked, ‘How? Why? And when did the pretty Alicia Andorinha die? It was a dilemma of some magnitude originating on a tiny island a hundred nautical miles from the mainland. The tall white lady, with rings on her fingers and flowers in her hair, wondered how many others had died, or might die in the next six months. She called it the Conchenta Conundrum… * Strolling in the garden one morning he had an idea. He remembered the traditions spoken of earlier, acknowledged their power, and developed and refined his evil notion. Then he took a walk in nearby woods and privately confirmed his intentions. He could not help but notice the wood was carpeted with a mass of foliage and wild flowers. There were so many, you see. Oh, so many. And so many different colours caught his eye. He returned to the house and thought it all out, planned it to perfection, and then picked lavender and white crocuses from the garden border because it seemed the easiest and most convenient thing to do. They were the dying blooms of spring and they were withered, wrinkled, and past their best, but he knew what powers lay dormant inside the plant. Selecting a twelve years old bottle of his finest scotch, he broke the seal and poured himself a good two fingers before taking a substantial mouthful. The liquid hit the back of his throat in a rush but gently slid into his stomach. Carefully, he pulled leaves away from the corm and placed them in a wooden pestle. Taking a mortar he ground his dry crocus leaves until they were virtually dust. Then he added more crocus leaves and eagerly ground them into a fine powder. Another drink was taken and another two fingers were poured. As spring died summer was born and an early bout of sunshine invaded the coastline. He invited her to his lair intending to finalise matters once and for all. He swept the patio and tidied the area for the episode he planned, and then prepared clean towels and chilled wine for their lunchtime swim. He was frolicking in the pool when she arrived and he leapt from the water to welcome her and hold her close; deviant soul that he was. ‘I’m glad you could make it,’ he said enthusiastically. ‘I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,’ she replied with a smile. They swam together and bathed in the sunshine before relaxing on loungers he thoughtfully angled towards the sun. Caringly, he carefully massaged her neck and back and trickled his fingers down her spine and said, ‘You like?’ She giggled in gleeful delight. It was as if they were such good friends, maybe even lovers. Later, laughing and smiling, he donned his Japanese silk kimono and strutted along the patio to a barbecue and a chilled drinks cabinet. ‘Time for drinks and a snack,’ he announced happily.
Posted on: Fri, 14 Jun 2013 18:38:33 +0000
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