Harry Bittercress, a former army MP, struggles to succeed as a private detective. So far, he's only worked on domestic cases, background checks, and insurance claims. He laments that lackluster record to his wife, Cardamine, over black coffee and toast slathered with clover honey (a breakfast habit bordering on obsession). "To make a name for myself, I gotta find a good murder!"
Harry gets his chance when he and the missus attend an election-night party. The year is 1952, the dawn of post-war America: Eddie Fisher crooning, the Red Scare, moleskin pants, taffeta dresses, Singin' in the Rain, polio, radio, Ford Mercury Monterey coupes, and atomic energy. Oh, and something even more explosive: teen energy.
The changing nation's future seemed uncertain. But some things never change. Murder, for instance. It rears its ugly head at the party. The family, their guests and the household staff are all suspects. It's up to Harry and Cardamine to figure out whodunnit - before anyone else dies.
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