Elizabeth Arnott’s THE SECRET LIVES OF MURDERERS’ WIVES kept me awake long past my bedtime. And it was not just the mystery that prodded me to keep turning pages. It was the majesty of Ms. Arnott’s character development. I HAD to know that her protagonists — Beverly, Elsie, and Margot — were okay, were going to be okay. I became emotionally invested in these characters’ lives.

That is what makes this book such a marvel to behold. Ms. Arnott painstakingly constructs distinct personalities for her protagonists and then sets them in an environment, Los Angeles, at a time, 1966, when an industry, entertainment, recognizes and reinforces sexist stereotypes about women. And then Ms. Arnott tasks them with challenging two extremely misogynistic institutions, the LAPD and journalism. No small feat, right?

I think it would be a mistake for readers to regard this future bestseller simply as a thriller. Ms. Arnott’s novel has layers.

It is an engrossing historical novel; it is a stirring psychological portrait of three strong yet fragile women who have been emotionally scarred by their experiences; it is an arresting procedural as three amateur sleuths who have keen insight into the mind of a serial killer use their knowledge to track down their culprit; and, ultimately, Ms. Arnott has composed a well-constructed, scathing attack of patriarchal instutitions that do not value women and the important roles they play in society.

Fans of Ashley Winstead, Holly Jackson, Gillian Flynn, and Lucy Foley will adore this novel, as will devotees of Bonnie Garmus and Taylor Jenkins Reid.