The Nightingales were always a very happy couple. If a husband and wife never discuss anything but the weather and are waited on hand and foot, what is there to quarrel about? But someone had reason to quarrel with Elizabeth. Someone who was alone with her in the woods that dark September night. Someone who loved her or hated her enough to beat her to death. The case seemed straightforward enough, but Wexford soon discovered that beneath the placid exterior of the Nightingales’ lives, there were undercurrents and secrets no one had ever suspected.