But when it comes to my houses - well, I always feel a pride, and I like to know people will live in those houses and weave their own histories. History isn't always what's written in books or taught in schools. The history of ordinary men and women is embedded in walls and floors and timbers of buildings.
A builder commits four murders: the wife who poisons her husband, her sister when she spurns him, her nephew who he believes has seen him kill his mother, and his father who knows his secrets. The dead speak on: through music they play in death, through their letters they wrote in life, ultimately leading to the sordid tale which unfolded a century ago being uncovered.