When Honey Driver decided to give the hotel a makeover, she didn't envisage her interior designer, Philippe Fabiere, getting choked to death with an antique lavatory flush handle. When traces of deadly nightshade are found in Philippe's system the finger of suspicion points at others in his profession.
Is this a case of professional jealousy, or is there something more sinister afoot? And what have the Russians at St Margaret's Court Hotel got to do with it? Why have they cut the wires on the security cameras on the cottage opposite their main gates? And what about the German couple who sit around reception, him helping out the workmen whilst his wife sits knitting? Who is it that's so fond of deadly nightshade?
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