A cache of love letters, dated 1732. A lost painting that may or may not be what it seems. A dying woman who loathes her "old friend," the famous mystery novelist Angus McAllister. Constance Weaver just can't quite bring herself to tell the whole story, because no one will believe her if she does. Who painted the portrait of Sir Jacob, really? Why are his lover's letters unsigned? And when you do discover the truth about Constance Weaver, on the very last page... have you discovered it? (Is it, after all, one of those neat, tidy Angus McAllister endings that Connie so despised?) Or has life outpaced art one more time?