Minneapolis, 1947. A mob meeting at the Casablanca Bar goes bad fast: when the smoke clears a top boss is dead with a top boss dead, along with his mouthpiece and the muscle watching the back door. Open and shut - except for the beautiful young woman who didn’t belong. One reporter notes something the police ignored: three lines on her body, painted in blood. When another body shows up later with four lines, nothing about the Casablanca massacre makes sense any more, and the reporter and his photographer find themselves in the middle of a story that goes back to a wartime mystery, and forward to the plans of the men who own the shabby expanse of the doomed Gateway District.Streetcars, downtown neon, all-night diners by the railroad station, corner drugstores, newspaper wars: “The Casablanca Tango” brings it all back.
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