He had watched them both for weeks. Prosperous, self-satisfied David Neale and his wife, Anna, so sweet, so gentle. He had tracked them through the streets and suburbs of Dublin. And thought of the times that had been and the times to come. Now David is dead and Anna is discovering that nothing about her life with him is the way is seemed. There are debts to be paid, infidelities to be faced, and she is alone, defenceless and vulnerable. Which is, after all, exactly what the man who calls himself Matthew has always wanted. He will watch and wait. And when he is ready he will bring her his gift . . . his courtship gift of death and betrayal, woven together in a shroud of silk . . .
'A superior thriller; a terrific read; a most welcome addition to the canon of contemporary Irish fiction.' Irish Times