Summary

In 1691, an unknown narrator in Richmond, Surrey seeks to begin anew, in an admission of dishonest writings: “for the biting hush of ink on paper, where truth ought to raise its head and speak without fear, I have long lied” (1). Possessing no remorse for past actions, the writer seeks to pay tribute to a man whom he or she has betrayed. The narrator seeks to record truth on paper, believing no one will read what is to be written.

In 2000, British historian Helen Watt sits at her desk in London, awaiting a call from a postgraduate student to discuss a significant historical finding. Helen notes a lack of professionalism in the American student, given the magnitude of the finding and having been granted only three days to assess the documents.

Helen recalls the previous day. A former student, Ian Easton, had telephoned...