Let’s set the scene: Hollywood, 1945, a town entrenched in
cocktail parties, cast parties and political parties. Partying is
the town’s pastime. At one such party, a senator is the guest
of honor, talking with studio heads, actors, filmmakers --- anybody
who’s anybody.

“All I’m saying,” the senator says, “is
you treat your friends right and they’ll treat you right.
That’s the way it is in Washington.”

“That’s the way it works here, too,” another
man remarks. “Trick is knowing who your friends
are.”

That’s a fact. Knowing who your friends are can mean the
difference between life and death. Just ask Ben Kohler --- Collier
now --- recently arrived from New York on the Chief, a passenger
train that makes its final stop in Los Angeles (or, more precisely,
Hollywood). In ’45, everybody takes the Chief: stars,
producers, publicists, gossip columnists, directors, studio owners.
It’s like a rolling party. On the trip that takes Ben to
California, he meets studio owner Sol Lasner, a man he had hoped to
approach about producing a war movie. He thought that might best
come later, but it seemed smart to jump on the opportunity when it
presented itself. However, getting a war movie off the ground turns
out to be the least of Ben’s worries as he soon finds himself
embroiled in a mystery as he attempts to solve his brother’s
murder.

Ben, fresh from the action in Germany, has received word of his
brother’s death. Well, not quite his death, but Danny is in
an L.A. hospital, and it’s just a matter of time with
virtually no hope remaining. The story goes that he leapt (fell?)
from the balcony of his rented room in an out-of-the-way hotel.
What was he doing there when he had a perfectly nice house and a
beautiful wife at home? Was it some kind of love nest? No one knows
for sure, but what Ben is certain of is that the fall was neither a
suicide nor an accident. No, Ben believes it was murder.

Daniel Kohler had been in the movie business for quite some time
while his younger brother Ben was in the Army. Despite being
married to a stunning German girl, Liesl, Danny nonetheless had his
weaknesses for strange women. So, when he went out the window,
there were several obvious suspects. Did Liesl discover his
debauchery, or did any of his mistresses fall under the category of
“jilted lover”? Due to a series of mysterious phone
calls, word gets out that Danny’s fall was simply an
accident: a tragic accident, but still an accident. Ben, however,
refuses to believe this version.

Studios and film lots have their business plans, and those plans
don’t include scandals. Bad publicity is, well, bad
publicity. Damage control is highly important, and Hollywood wants
its stars dazzling, not tarnished. Image, image, image.
Danny’s “accident” needed to be either swept
under or polished up and fast.

That’s where the stigma of Communism comes in. Close on
the heels of World War II, fears run high about its spread. A
handful of zealous politicians have exploited those fears, leaving
ruined reputations in their wake. While Ben is investigating every
lead he can to uncover about his brother’s death, an
influential senator is convening hearings on Communist Party
members, which sets off a ripple of panic through the industry. Was
Danny a member of the Party? Was he killed because of his
affiliation with it? Or is the senator on a personal
vendetta?

There’s a lot going on in STARDUST: suspected murder,
loyalty hearings, Auschwitz horrors, war stories, romance and
family secrets. And as unlikely as it may seem, it all comes
together in the end. The only hitch is that the more you know about
the Hollywood of the early years, the more you’ll enjoy this
book. Sometimes, it reads like an "A" list for an Oscar party;
sometimes, it seems like it’s written for insiders. But the
mystery and historical detail carry it along in an entertaining
rush.