It's set on an island off the British coast that the "well to do" use as a retreat from their stressful (but "terribly correct") lives. When a prize winning author is found hanging in the lighthouse on the island, the police, in the shape of Adam Dalgliesh and his merry band of men, are called in to solve the case.
I've read worse books. I've read worse crime books in fact, but this one didn't grab me. I come from a fairly well to do background, but I didn't recognise the people in this book. They're all about "correctness," "show," and how they present themselves to the world, and after a while this really starts to get on my wick. It shouldn't but it did.
My irritation over the suspects wasn't helped by the fact that Dalgliesh (a senior officer) is too sensitive by half. I've never particularly fond the idea of a poetry writing detective, but the more I read of him, the more I just want to yell "Get over yourself and get on with the crime bit of the story."
My other criticism is that it takes a long time for anything to happen. We're told early that something's coming but it took almost 200 pages (of 466) to get there, and I'm sorry, but I found that beyond irritating.