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Fiona Silk, in a drunken state, returns to her cottage to find her Samoyed, Tolstoy, drugged, lying at the foot of her bed, upon which sits the body of Benedict Kelly, poet, ex-lover, with a silly smile crazy-glued to his face and a bottle of champagne near to hand. Fiona has just returned to St Aubaine and is in the midst of a divorce from a pompous man who thinks everything she does reflects on him. She hadn't seen Kelly in eight years, but local detective FX Sarrazin wants to pin the murder on her. Silk may be the worst romance writer in history if the excerpts from her work in progress are any indication. Luckily, Fiona has a solid alibi for the night of the murder. She was getting drunk with her friend, Dr Liz Prentiss, who has just turned 45 and was obsessing about it. Add to this mix, Phillip, Fiona's ex-husband to be, who keeps phoning her from all over the world because he worries what people might think; Helene Lamontaigne, purportedly good friend to Fiona, who keeps dumping all kinds of chores onto her; Helene's developer husband who wants Fiona's cottage; the almost delinquent teenager, Josey who keeps showing up at just the right time to help out, and several other strange and wonderful characters, and you have all the elements for a good mystery with zany characters, albeit human. Maffini has a way with setting and character. The major problem here is how is Fiona Silk going to write a good romance novel unless she starts getting some herself.
Reviewed by Barbara Franchi, December 2003
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Contact: Yvonne Klein (ymk@reviewingtheevidence.com)
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