Once upon a time there was a homosexual homicide detective named Joe Blake. Joe was really a good Joe. But he was terribly upset about his private inclinations because it meant deserting a terribly nice, if somewhat frigid, wife and some terribly nice children. Joe moonlighted by working for insurance companies on the side. He also knew a girl named Carol Manson. Carol knew about Joe and his terrible secret. Carol was married to a terribly nice man. But she liked terribly nice men. Carol moonlighted with the terribly nice men while her terribly nice husband was out of town. She also had a terrifically nice lover, her ""beautiful blackamoor."" Then one day Carol met a terrifically nice artist who was terrifically famous, terrifically rich and, well, terrific. Her terribly nice husband conveniently died of a heart attack and Carol was all set to marry the terrific artist but she had to get rid of her ""beautiful blackamoor"" because the terrific artist was the kind of Southern gentleman who just wouldn't understand. She kills ""beautiful blackamoor"" in an almost perfect crime except that good old Joe moonlights on the case. Will Joe tell about Carol? Will Carol tell about Joe? Will anyone care. . . ?