Murder pays no respect to rank...or the neighborhood. And so it happened that young aristocrat Timothy Wycliffe was bludgeoned to death in his elegantly furnished flat in Belgravia by a person or persons unknown. Unknown, in fact, for thirty years. When the dead man’s friend Peter Proctor, once a young man on his way up in the diplomatic service, now a retired Member of Parliament, seeks an antidote to boredom by attempting to write his own memoirs they create more problems than he anticipated, and not just of the writer’s-block variety. Peter keeps getting sidetracked by speculations on Timothy’s death. The murder was allegedly accomplished by a beating from one of his boyfriends. But Peter can’t accept so simple a solution, so he begins to probe the past. In so doing, he opens a fascinating window on British society during the 1950s and its changing, and unchanging, mores since.
