The girl was young, her auburn hair arranged on the pillow. Wycliffe could almost believe she was asleep--that is, until he saw her face. She had been strangled, her face brutally smashed--but after death, not before. She lay in a seedy hotel room down by the docks, but her luggage, her clothes, and her make-up all suggested she had more class than her surroundings. Superintendent Wycliffe was officially on holiday, but the case fascinated him. Who was the girl? Why was she lying naked in a shabby hotel room? As Wycliffe begins to investigate, he finds there are too many suspects, too many motives--and too many lies...
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