A mystery set in a Mayfair townhouse on the last Christmas before the war. For readers of Agatha Christie, Dorothy L. Sayers, and Charles Todd.
December 1938. Reginald Hargrove, Chairman of the Burma Exploration Company, gathers his directors and partners for a Christmas supper. By midnight, one of them is dead.
Julian Blackwood spent twenty years turning other people's secrets into his own currency. Tonight he paid for it — strangled with his own crimson scarf, in a house the snow has sealed shut. The killer is still inside. And before the night is out, they strike again.
Hargrove has unravelled cases that defeated Scotland Yard. He has never had one in his own drawing room, among people he has dined with for fifteen years, and he has never had to ask whether his own decisions, made long ago and far away, set the whole thing in motion.
One guest spent years warning the board. Julian Blackwood made sure no one listened. Tonight, someone made him stop.
But the truth, when Hargrove finds it, is not the kind a man can simply hand to the law. The hardest question isn't who killed Julian Blackwood. It's what a decent man does once he knows.