False colors (An Inner sanctum mystery)

This time the publisher asked me, the author, to write the blurb...This is a mystery novel. The hero is a young Philadelphia art dealer who gets mixed up in dirty work in the field of art collecting. Maybe I shouldn't call him a hero. If he ever did have the usual mystery story hero's nerves of steel and muscles of iron, they certainly got badly rusted. He's slow and cautious. This story took a lot of research. I read stacks of art books, and talked to artists and dealers. I prowled through museums peering at famous paintings through a magnifying glass. My new knowledge even impresses my artist friends, and it's mighty hard for a writer to impress an artist. I've tried to get some of the flavor of Philadelphia into the book. That's an elusive thing to pin down in words, but here's an example of what Philadelphia is like. In most cities, if you owned a valuable old Chippendale chair, you would call everybody's attention to your prize. In Philadelphia, you would sit in it. (Richard Powell - False Colors, Simon and Schuster, 1955 BCE - jacket blurb)