Bank Holiday weekend. Sunrise on a secluded Welsh beach and Beatrice Stubbs takes some innocent snaps. The scene contains more than just cliffs and seagulls, and someone wants those pictures destroyed. But Beatrice’s mind is on other things.

Assigned to the London Transport Police, she’s pursuing the Finsbury Park Flasher, trying to pre-empt a serious sexual offence. While Beatrice is distracted, neighbour Adrian and companion Matthew decide to play Poirot, and investigate the mystery of the disappearing photographs. Amateur detectives and professional criminals are a dangerous mix.

From deserted Pembrokeshire beaches, through the shadowy underpasses of North London, to the remote Irish countryside, Beatrice discovers the darker side of human nature.

“The characters leap off the page, the prose is witty and intelligent, and the plot twists keep you hooked till the last. What more could you ask?” Barbara Scott Emmett, author of European thriller Don’t Look Down

Disheartened by her recent performance, Beatrice Stubbs takes a sabbatical from the Metropolitan Police for a gourmet tour of Northern Spain. In Vitoria, she encounters a distant acquaintance. Beautiful, bloody-minded journalist Ana Herrero is onto a story.

Beatrice, scenting adventure, offers her expertise. The two women are sucked into a mystery of missing persons, violent threats, mutilated bodies and industrial-scale fraud. They are out of their depth. With no official authority and unsure who to trust, they find themselves up to their necks in corruption, blackmail and Rioja.

Beatrice calls for the cavalry. The boys are back, and this time, it’s a matter of taste. But when her instincts prove fallible, Beatrice discovers that justice is a matter of interpretation.