“Hey, Dad, take a look here,” Young Dicken said, standing dangerously close to the edge of the cliff.
“You get back from there,” his father said. “We’re here on holiday, I don’t want you dead.”
His father edged closer, peered over. “Crikey. That’s got to be worth a shot.”
“Better than all those photos of birds,” Dickens said.
His father zoomed in with his camera… and drew back. He blinked and leaned over the cliff edge again… and took special care to focus. Then he phoned his office.
“Yea, it’s me, Detective Inspector Ridgens. Yes, I know I’m on holiday but… you know that jewel heist a few years back, getaway car never discovered? I think I’ve just found it. Am I sure? Oh yes.”
There was no mistaking the glint of gold in that sand.