" ... revenge, served piping hot, on Wedgewood bone china with a silver service ..."
The storyline rumbles along like a proverbial train wreck - you want to look away but can't - as what begins as a paradox soon develops into a workable probability theory as events triangulate towards their inevitable conclusion.
Enough of the mathematical hypotheses - our disgruntle narrator Tom Winscombe finds himself drawn to the mysterious murders of the enigmatic Vavasor twins - Archimedes and Pythagorus, after a chance meeting on a train sets off the chain of events which are at times almost - dare I say it - Mr Beanish. Who is behind the mysterious deaths; who wants the mystery to remain just that, a mystery; how are the Belarusan mafia connected; what secrets does a locked briefcase hold - if only Tom could open it.
Escapism for the mathematical inclined ... is that an axiom I hear you ask??
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