Immured in a beastly nursing home run by smarmy William Anderson and his foulmouthed sister Letitia Davis, Rosemary Travis, abetted by her cooperative chum Dorothy Davenport, keeps her spirits up by embroidering the horrors of life at Eventide Lodge into a baroque Golden Age mystery plot—a plot that casts each of her innocuous fellow-geriatrics as a possible suspect when Hilary Bryant dies or George Channing attempts to escape and is mauled by Anderson's Doberman. But when Dorothy, on the eve of her departure for the hospital for terminal-cancer treatment, dies of a fantastic concoction of liquor and pills, Rosemary has a real-life mystery on her hands. Or does she? Did Dorothy really kill herself? Or was Anderson getting rid of her as expeditiously as possible? Or was the killer some other patient? Or is the whole plot one last fictional legacy of Dorothy's? Once again, Dibdin, author of Ratking and the Aurelio Zen novels (Vendetta, 1991, etc.), produces a tale as piercingly funny as Tom Stoppard—and as wise about the powers of fiction to deal with an unspeakable world.