Hugo Bishop's case began with four deaths, none of them quite murder. But Bishop had a hunch and followed it to a pleasure-pit in a shuttered Victorian house. It was a wild party attended by an Armenian racing-driver, a dispossessed heir, four pot-smokers, a nymphomaniac, and Georgina Hutton. Georgina was tall, tawny, lean-hipped, with gold-lacquered fingernails, and a heart of stone. The air was thick with reefer smoke, sin, and secrets . . . secrets that suave sleuth had to pry loose, for if Bishop's hunch was right world security was at stake.