[In the following excerpt, Lescaze praises Berendt's memorable characters in Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil but laments the book's excessive focus on the Williams' trials and questions his blending of fact and fiction in a nonfiction work.]

Joe Odom, a genial rogue who calls himself the host of Savannah and specializes in freeloading, round-the-clock parties and passing bad checks, says Savannah has three basic rules:

—Always stick around for one more drink.

—Never go south of Gaston Street.

—Observe the high holidays—St. Patrick's Day and the day of the Georgia-Florida football game.

Not all Savannahians play by Mr. Odom's rules, of course, but his dedication to drinking, partying and a snobbery that ignores certain sections of the city is shared by most of the dozens of exotics who feature in John Berendt's entertaining account of good times, serious crime and raffish behavior, Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil.

I don't know what this book will do for Savannah tourism overall, but it is certain to attract anyone with a taste for old houses and enduring vices.

One Savannahian who had both was Jim Williams, a controversial and flamboyant antiques dealer. How does it feel to be nouveau riche, Williams was asked. "It's the riche that counts," he replied. Of the old-money social elite, Williams told Mr. Berendt that if they share a single trait, "it's their love of money and their unwillingness to spend it."

Some members of old families fought with or snubbed Williams. But Williams was famous for his Christmas party in his home, the largest private residence in the city. The grandeur of his house, the beauty of its furnishings, his clever manipulation of his guest list and his lavish spending turned Williams's gala into Savannah's party of the year.

From Williams, Mr. Berendt got an introduction to Savannah's darker side. "You mustn't be taken in by the moonlight and magnolias. There's more to Savannah than that. Things can get very murky," Williams said while describing a series of murders among the rich that had been swept under the rug.

Soon, murk descended on Williams himself. In his study, he shot and killed a 21-year-old hustler named Danny Hansford who had been his lover and also worked in his furniture-restoration shop.

Hansford's fame for sexual ability had been spreading. Prentiss Crowe, an old-money Savannahian, reacted to the killing with confidence that Savannah justice would once again shield a rich man caught in an exposed position, but with equal certainty that some men and women would be resentful. He explained: "Hansford was known as a good time … but a good time not yet had by all."

In keeping with the elite's attitude toward the less fortunate dead, Williams was cool when asked in court about the appropriateness of his relationship with Hansford given their ages. "I was 52-years-old, but he had 52 years' worth of mileage on him," he replied.

New York-based Mr. Berendt fell for Savannah's sinful ways and old-fashioned charms in the early 1980s and decided to take up bi-city living. He wasn't there long before he saw a book before his eyes.

Midnight is at its best when it is sketching the nature of the city and introducing characters such as the black transvestite Chablis; Col. Jim Atwood, owner of Hitler's silverware; and Luther Driggers, a man who may or may not have a vial of deadly poison, but is more immediately determined to make goldfish glow in the dark.

The Williams murder trials—there were three of them—became the core story of Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. Mr. Berendt is a skillful narrator, but interesting as the Williams case is, it doesn't remain fascinating over all the pages Mr. Berendt gives it.

All the main characters are memorable, though, at least until the reader reaches the book's last page and finds an author's note revealing that a number of pseudonyms have been used and, what's more, Mr. Berendt has altered descriptions of some people to protect their privacy. "Though this is a work of nonfiction, I have taken certain storytelling liberties, particularly having to do with the timing of events," Mr. Berendt adds. Altered how? Was Danny Hansford really Danielle Hansford? And what storytelling liberties allow a nonfiction writer to alter chronology? Faction is an unlikable hybrid.