A famous lyonnais is in the news today - Tony Musulin, the security truck driver who absconded with more than 11 million euros, gave himself up in Monaco yesterday, much to the amazement of all. Since he vanished nearly two weeks ago there had been no sign of him other than the discovery of 9 million euros of the loot in a lock-up garage not far from where he drove off with the van. And therein perhaps lies the key to his sudden reappearance - of the missing 2.5 million, there is still no news, and Monsieur Musulin himself is apparently mute on the subject. Judicial experts reckon he risks a maximum of three years in prison, perhaps as little as 18 months with time off for good behaviour. With roots in the Balkans, the rumour is that the loot is hidden in Serbia, to be enjoyed when he comes out of prison. If not then he can always fall back on his new-found celebrity. The perfect, non-violent 'crime of the century' has turned him into something of a star on the internet...
Back in the escapist world of sport, the big match tomorrow preoccupies. The 1-0 win in Dublin on Saturday (the 2nd half at least) was regarded as a job reasonably well done but only half-done. A nation awaits and expects.
And back at home, in the real world, I soldier on with the recent discovery that literary agent rejections are like London buses. None at all for two or three weeks, then 2 or 3 all arrive at once. Two weeks ago it was three, one after the other. And just recently, two more on consecutive days. Current rejection count: one letter with a personal touch, six form letters, four slips/cards, one application disappeared into the ether (3 months and still waiting), and six still out there. Running total of costs: £61.74 in return postage, 72 euros outward postage, and approximately 20 euros of stationary costs. Not cheap being a failed writer...
