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The middle-aged woman lying on the footpath is biggish and unattractive. Yet even in death her eyes hold a defiant look. Everyone in this Kingsmarkham neighborhood knew her name was Rhoda Comfrey and that she was down from London visiting her invalid father. But when Inspector Wexford looks further, he finds Miss Comfrey's life for the past twenty years is a complete mystery. She leaves behind no address, no job, no banker, no friends. Wexford's only clue to her killer is an elegant wallet from a posh London shop...but his instinct tells him that behind this murder lies a tangled web of the most sordid sort.
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