He got in to find out why Mr. Dean came down the stairs. When he finds out, he'll bow out and go back to playing cricket.
In June 1933, it was not yet common in the media market for a corpse to advertise under the staircase of a reputable London advertising agency. Mr. Randall's firm isn't interested in noise, either, so it soon hires Mr. Death Bredon to replace the murdered copywriter Dean, who introduces himself with a slew of cleft slogans.
But beware! Only insiders know what kind of a man was actually employed here - but Lord Peter Wimsey himself suspects that the perpetrator of the crime should be found in the building itself. If he can cope with the hectic demands of clients, deadlines and the rate room, he can prowl the agency like a hawk, make dazzling conversation and wow the beauties at the golden youth parties after work. Even if he's in danger of being caught by one of them, the blue-blooded detective remains a classy Brit everywhere and always, and with the help of his policeman brother-in-law, he uncovers how cocaine was being distributed in the city. And in the meantime, the creator of the observant Lord Peter entertains us with dozens of observations about advertising, "advertizing" and its pawns who love to deceive the masses and themselves.