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Paul Marrick is a specialist insurance investigator engaged by a Lloyds syndicate to find and — settle the hash of — Michael Ovnanyan, owner of a luxurious movie production facility at Cannes but also a modern pirate with a converted Navy fast patrol boat — the Moloch.
Paul’s hunt for the Moloch and stolen yellowcake morphs into a hunt for stolen MM40 Exocet missiles and a diamond collection, the famous centrepiece of which is the fabulous Rostov Constellation.
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I flew a lot in the days when it was fun and you did not have to take your shoes off before boarding. It was probably the thrillers and spy stories on crowded airport bookstands that prompted The Rostov Constellation.

Sniff, and you may yet smell the not quite vanished caporal tobacco, sip Gaston’s champagne splits in The French and see men's hair curling over the collars of their Jermyn Street shirts — though not, of course, Paul Marrick’s, who I think looked rather like Martin Shaw playing Doyle rather than George Gently.

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