Edward Hunter could not wish for anything more in his life: a beautiful wife and daughter and he is about and about to make a move to a bigger house. However, Edward is the son of a man serving a life sentence in Christchurch for killing prostitutes and Edward has spent his life trying to avoid any connection with him. Nonetheless, Edward is haunted by one question: can a man like his father pass on his love of killing genetically? One ordinary morning, after a quick lunch, Edward and his wife are waiting in a bank to talk to somebody about the mortgage for their new home. Suddenly an armed gang bursts through the door and in the fray Edward’s wife is killed. Devastated, Edward becomes frustrated with the police for their lack of speed in the investigation. He sets out on his own path of investigation and in so doing will seek the help of his father whom he has not seen for decades. What follows is, as always in Cleave’s work, a spider web of leads and crimes that draw the reader into the narrative as both a fascinated yet horrified onlooker.