The Mystery of a Turkish Bath

In a sprawling winter resort on the Hampshire coast, an extravagant Turkish bath occupies the first room of a massive hotel built by a syndicate of hopeful investors. The steam‑filled chambers are lined with oriental luxury, and a handful of ladies—each nursing fashionable ailments like rheumatism and neuralgia—gather beneath pink‑cotton wraps, exchanging witty barbs and quiet judgments. The atmosphere is a blend of genteel society and whispered discomfort, as the bath’s opulent décor masks the uneasy economics behind its creation.

Among the regulars are Mrs. Masterman, a widowed socialite, and Mrs. Ray Jefferson, whose American husband boasts a mysterious, lucrative “invention” that has made him a fortune abroad. Their conversations hint at hidden motives, from dubious medical endorsements to the financial strain felt by the company that built the hotel. As the steam rises, so does a sense that something concealed beneath the surface may soon surface, drawing the ladies into a subtle mystery that begins in this very room.