One hour to kill

THhe odor of familiar perfume greeted him when he turned the knob on the door of Fay's bedroom, and in that first instant when he saw the limp, crumpled figure in the wicker chair he knew instinctively that his wife was dead. Dave Wallace had come to Trinidad to forget the past and his scheming, predatory estranged wife, Fay. But Fay had reneged on their divorce agreement and had followed him to the island, had moved in on him bag and baggage and begun running around with three different men. Now she was dead-strangled with her own necklace-and Wallace, who had quarreled with her only an hour before, still bore the scratch marks from her fingernails on the back of his hand. He knew that Fay had been winding up her affairs and planning to leave, that she had been playing her favorite game of blackmail, and that someone was paying her off. Steve Rand, the charter-boat captain, Neil Benedict, the gambler and night-club owner, and Joe Anderson, the real estate operator, had good reason to hate her. Yet of the men in Fay's life, he himself became at once the most logical suspect. For there had been another time when he had resorted to violence and attacked his wife with murder in his heart. If this became known while the police were investigating her death, who would believe he was innocent?