博客來The body of Carol Hirons was discovered at dawn, in the middle of the quad. By evening the student paper had printed the photograph everyone would remember: the girl and her shoes.
Detective Sebastian Jameson bewildered by the neatness and the precision of the wounds refused to walk away.
The usual suspects (jealous lover, deranged student, passing vagrant) dissolved under even mild scrutiny. What remained was a trail that grew colder with every hour and warmer with every lie.
Somewhere beneath the limestone and the autumn leaves, the truth lied.
