Ah, the late seventies/early 80s in San Francisco! Where else could you find a young lawyer, all tarted up, playing ragtime on the piano in a bordello - a co-op, feminist bordello, mind you !- while the local worthies dance and a senator lies tied up in the basement dungeon, awaiting the tender administrations of "Kandi". Could anything go wrong in this scenario? Yes, and it does, with a vengeance. Cue a police raid, a hasty exit from the house of ill repute, and, finally, the dead body of Kandi on our heroine's expensive rug. Rebecca, the lawyer in question, is determined to find the killer, and with the help of her hippie sister, a blue-eyed reporter and various ladies of the night, she figures it out.
I can't say that the mystery, as such, was particularly interesting, but the madcap adventures of Rebecca, who alternates between sober lawyering and yearning for adventure, for romance and independence, for glamour and workaday outfits, made for entertaining reading.