When you look at the facts of this case themselves, and the social and political climate in which it took place, the word "scandal" does suit it nicely. However, this book does it a huge disservice.
Carrie Davies was a domestic worker for a rich, white man. He took advantage of his station, and he attempted to pressure her into sexual activities. She feared for her safety, and she shot him. I can't fault her for her actions. Hell, I'd have done the same thing, were I in her position. But so much of that gets so lost in this book.
This book felt very much like an attempt made to either fit a page count, a word count, or possibly both. There were long tangents on people, and subjects, that were of no consequence to this case, its players, or its outcome. It made for very long, very dry reading. (Once I learned to skim, or blatantly skip over, those parts, it was a much faster read.)
By this point, we all know that true crime is one of my favourite genres. I live and breathe true crime in my personal (and professional) life. This book is not a true crime book. It is trying to disguise a history of Toronto during the time of the WWI as a true crime scandal.
The storytelling felt very forced, and contrived to me. I couldn't tell if we were telling the story of a murder, or if we were being told about how wonderful Toronto is supposed to be (a point which I vehemently disagree with).
I kept reading because I wanted to know what happened to Carrie. I'm glad I did. But I would be very hard pressed to recommend this book to my fellow true crime lovers, and Murderinos.