'an excellent book ... a novel drenched in that most elusive and valuable of literary elements - atmosphere' The Spectator At first glance, Leonard Graves' death was unremarkable. Sleeping pills, a bottle of vodka, a note saying goodbye. But when Detective Henry Hobbes discovers a grave in the basement, he realizes there is something far more sinister at work. Further investigation unearths more disturbing evidence. Scattered around the old house are women's dresses. All made of the same material. All made in the same ...
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'an excellent book ... a novel drenched in that most elusive and valuable of literary elements - atmosphere' The Spectator At first glance, Leonard Graves' death was unremarkable. Sleeping pills, a bottle of vodka, a note saying goodbye. But when Detective Henry Hobbes discovers a grave in the basement, he realizes there is something far more sinister at work. Further investigation unearths more disturbing evidence. Scattered around the old house are women's dresses. All made of the same material. All made in the same colours. And all featuring a rip across the stomach, smeared in blood. As the investigation continues and the body count rises, Hobbes must also deal with the disappearance of his son, the break-up of his family and a growing sense that something horrific happened in the Graves' household. And he's running out of time to find out what.
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