Anthony's new play receieves terrible reviews, particularly from Sunday Times critic Harriet Throsby. The next day, Throsby is stabbed in the heart with an ornamental dagger which belongs to Anthony, with his fingerprints on it. He is arrested by an old enemy there's only one man can help him. But will Hawthorne take the call?
A wealthy woman strangled six hours after she's arranged her own funeral. A very private detective uncovering secrets but hiding his own. A reluctant author drawn into a story he can't control. What do they have in common?
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