Iconic, sarcastic, totally over the top as only a 1930s aristocratic sleuth can be, this is the novel where Lord Peter Wimsey meets his match, Harriet Vane (though Harriet will evade the marital noose for a few more novels).
The issue is, Harriet is on trial for poisoning her ex-lover with arsenic. The case is pretty watertight and it looks pretty desperate there for a minute. Can Peter save the day and get the girl? (Love Harriet’s modernity).
Watching Peter unravel the whole affair is a testament to classic sleuthing: long lunches, fake seances (hilarious comic scenes), a pool of typists-cum-actresses ready to infiltrate any household, a pliable manservant and plenty of talking down to Scotland Yard. Oh and complex chemical tests involving arsenic …and a missing will… and secret compartments, it’s literally all here.
It’s smart, biting, and just the right shade of scandalous, with some horrible 1930s clangers thrown in.
One word: catty.
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