First-rate atmospheric mystery set in Charleston, South Carolina, told from the point of view of a female suspect rather than a detective or policeman.
Heroine has the garden variety jealous husband. You know the type — the one who is full of pride and self-admiration, and yet still thinks his pretty wife is offering it up all over town. Of course he dies of a gunshot in his home office, while his wife is upstairs, packing to leave the beast for good and all. And, while the police are willing to write it off as suicide, there is suspicion that the wife did it. She had reason, after all.
And to say more is to ruin a very good golden age style mystery, told from the point of view of the heroine, and exquisitely set In Charleston SC. The actions follow logically, the amateur detecting, for a change, does not feel arbitrary, and even the gather all the suspects in one room finale works really well.
It helps that the heroine seems to be a proto feminist and a Charlestonian steel magnolia, and the racial aspects of the plot are pretty small. But main thing is that the author’s Charleston setting is integral to the plot and the way the characters behave, and is thoroughly believable. This is a find, needing a reissue, and makes this reviewer glad he haunts used bookstores. (My copy is even autographed.)