COSTA DEL SOL, a lone shark swimming the human seas on the Spanish coast, is about to be told of a mid-air robbery which has taken place high over Malaga.
Costa del Sol was sitting on a terrace in Lagos with nothing but the flat morning ocean and a beer for company when his phone buzzed. “Heh-low. Who´s this?”
“Heard anything strange this morning?”
Costa recognised the voice of his friend Dan Sanchéz of the National Police. They´d walked the same path together once – both were half-Spanish, half-English – but the road had forked and each had gone their own way. “Not a birdy. What´s happened?”
“A Cessna carrying Frank Levy the Hollywood producer back from Cannes was over Malaga.” Dan listed a few of Levy´s films, well-known low-brow hits. “A crew member robbed him mid-air and jumped from the plane. Diamond ring.”
Costa could hear the hooting Malaga traffic behind Dan. “As far as we know.”
“Where was this?”
“Near Comares. In the mountains behind Velez.”
Costa watched a dolphin break the slate-grey surface.
“So?” came his friend´s voice.
“Sure. I´ll give it a go.”
“Get me on this number. Levy´s offering a reward too, so that´s a double incentive this time.”
Costa stood and stretched, dropping a coin onto the table for the beer. He saw an old Scot with a tatty, grey beard standing near his boat. Costa knew that years back the man had been at this beach with his wife, now long dead, and had lost his wedding ring while swimming. He came every morning, walking the disappearing waves, looking in vain for the ring.
Costa pushed his boat out and gunned the engine. Waving at the old man – they hardly ever spoke – he skimmed off across the glassy surface planning how he was going to spend his reward.