Priscilla Tempest, an attractive Canadian twenty-something, is head of the press office at The Savoy, London’s most prestigious hotel. Her penchant for landing in the bad books of the hotel’s snobbish general manager is magnified a thousand times when the arms dealer found dead in River Suite 705 turns out to be Priscilla’s date from the previous evening. Knowing she’s under suspicion, Priscilla sets out to find the killer herself. Against the backdrop of the glamour and glitz of The Savoy in 1960s London, the story unfolds through her encounters with an array of characters. Celebrities: Priscilla sips champagne with the Burtons and enjoys a Buck’s Fizz with Noel Coward in the American Bar. Flirtations: she’s drawn to an overly inquisitive journalist and a handsome stranger who might be a secret agent. Savoy Management: desperate to squash rumors that HRH Princess Margaret was seen running away from the murdered man’s room. And, most menacing of all, the dead man’s relatives. Skullduggery, false identities, and blackmail serve to move the mystery along at a nice pace, but it’s Priscilla’s hilarious self-criticisms, her flippant come-backs, and the razor-sharp banter that make Death at the Savoy such an entertaining read.