Brash, streetwise, Captain Alexander Savva of the Hellenic Police is called to investigate the crumpled mess of a car, and the body inside it, being battered by the sea. With the brakes compromised, John Fitzroy had no chance of surviving the steep roads along the coast. Where many investigations struggle for suspects, Savva has no lack of them. Davonna tugs the thorny weeds, the purple hand-shaped bruise on her neck screaming. Had it really been ten years since she sat in a cushioned chair in the Palais des Nations translating Hebrew to German? Now she meticulously plans her days to avoid disaster. It's so common, so very common for a woman to find herself captive, where escape only comes in dreams after her husband leaves her bruised on the bed. As secrets are revealed, Savva is drawn to John's widow, Davonna, questioning her every word. He hovers around the periphery of her life, discovering that behind the doors of her pink mansion and its manicured walled garden, a sinister secret rots. It all begs the question: who killed John Fitzroy?