December 1938. A Christmas dinner in a Mayfair townhouse on Cavendish Square, the doors shut against the weather. Ten sit down. By midnight, one of them is dead.For fans of Agatha Christie, Anthony Horowitz, and the golden age of detective fiction.Julian Blackwood has spent twenty years turning other people's secrets into his own currency. Between the carols and the brandy he slips out to the cloakroom, and he is found there strangled with his own crimson scarf. The snow has sealed the house - nobody can leave,
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