Nicola Whyte

Marchfield Square was meant to be a haven from the outside world. A place for those who need somewhere safe from their pasts, or who could otherwise not afford to stay in the city they call home. That was Celeste Van Duren's plan. One of her tenants being murdered in his own kitchen, and the police trying to pin it on his long-suffering wife, was not.

So Celeste does what anyone with a lot of money, a strong sense of justice and a bad hip would do: she recruits some help to track down the real murderer. Her cleaner, Audrey, knows everyone in the square and is liked by all, while failed crime writer, Lewis, is known by no one. He hates his job, hates his life, and he’s not that fond of Audrey either, but Celeste is persuasive. In theory his knowledge of police procedure and her way with people should help them find the killer - if they don't kill each other first...

Despite their differences the two soon discover the victim’s dodgy art deals may hold the key to the mystery – but have they missed something closer to home? After all, how well do you really know your neighbours?

Every Thursday at midday Audrey Brooks cleans the Petrov house. Mr Petrov is never home - in fact he seems to use the house purely as storage for his impressive collection of antiques - but that doesn't affect the care with which Audrey mops, polishes, and carefully winds each of the dozens of beautiful clocks that decorate the tall, elegant, empty London mansion.

Until the morning she finds a corpse in the back bedroom, the pristine walls and floor covered in blood, and flees the house in panic.

Fifteen minutes later, the police arrive... and find nothing. No body. No blood. The only thing slightly out of the ordinary is the clock in that back bedroom, which is now running four minutes slow.

With no victim, the police are convinced there was no murder, but Audrey knows better. A man has been killed, and if they won't do anything about it, she - and her annoying friend Lewis - will.