Hooray for Hollywood! That's what private eye Dick DeWitt thinks. Lovelorn, without a current case, and no fan of bleak winters, he accepts the advice of a fellow shamus, and heads for the West Coast in 1938. But it doesn't take long for DeWitt to regret his decision. A Tinseltown starlet wannabe needs help. She has become involved with two sleazes, a fast-talking lecherous movie agent and a mean, corrupt cop. She's kept two little black books that could ruin the men. And that's why she needs an intelligent, tough-as-nails guy to protect her. She doesn't find one, but settles for DeWitt. If you're looking for a crime noir detective in the mold of Philip Marlowe or Sam Spade, DeWitt is not your hero. He's not very bright, oozing insensitivity, lacks class, and possesses dubious ethics. But DeWitt is dogged in his determination to get the job done and with the help of friends and some luck--make that a lot of luck--he might succeed.