Eugène Tarpon is back to sleeping in his office and waiting for a job that pays. Then he gets a call from an old contact in the police. A distant relative of his – a polite, persistent widow – wants someone to look into her daughter’s disappearance. The police have already given up. No leads, no hope, no point. Just take the case, take her money, and keep her busy. Tarpon’s too broke to refuse, and too much of a gentleman to brush her off. But the story doesn’t sit right. And when something smells off, he can’t help but start digging. With Skeletons in the Closet, Manchette sends his bruised, boozy detective stumbling deeper into the wreckage of modern France – exposing a world where justice is hollow, the missing stay missing, and decency is just another dead end.