Thirty something Midge Cohen-newly divorced; ex-teacher of Russian; writer of teen-age mysteries, makes her debut in this mildly engaging first novel. Midge lives in a Brooklyn apartment will to her by Aunt Dora. He widowed mother Pearl, receptionist in a dentist's office, is a tireless matchmaker for her reluctant daughter, often trying to set her up with eligible patients. One of these is unappetizing Dr. Leon Skripnik who arrives with a twenty page letter from a new found Russian relative that he wants translated pronto. A day later Skripnik's found dead in his Manhattan brownstone and busybody Midge is soon knew-deep in his affairs-homely ex-wife Phyllis; teen-aged son; a pair of villainous Russian con artists; a huge painting, purportedly by Chagall, and a handsome Italian cop. There's still more, in a frantically plotted story whose heroine's narrative style echoes stand-up comedy. A warm, observant, breezy talent is evident here. More lucidity and less shtick could produce a better second outing.