When Harry Flint, social researcher turned novice private eye, is visited by death on his own doorstep, he vows to find who’s responsible. A street bomb in this well-healed corner of north London is unheard of and the bomb carries echoes of Stoke Newington’s non-conformist past. Flint has penned a report on the state of the local housing market and uncovered a racket — properties ‘rented out’ to the homeless – but lacks concrete proof to expose it. The bomb changes all that. As he starts dig, he uncovers roots so deep and gnarled that each time he pulls at one, another appears, until the racket, the case and what he is trying to find out are right there outside his front door.