1948 is a leap year and a good one for Harry S. Truman. The second-hand book dealers on Manhattan's Fourth Avenue are in full swing. Howard inherits his father's shabby bookshop, but Howard isn't a true bookman, and he knows how little money there is in the business-until a seemingly priceless manuscript falls into his lap. But there's something odd about it. Howard decides to check out his treasure with an acerbic fellow in Baltimore, a man Howard's late father believed could solve all literary problems: H. L. Mencken. The results are deadly.