The Man of Maybe Half-A-Dozen Faces

"Skylight Howells, Private Investigator"
That's what the letters on the cloudy glass of the door say. But Skylight himself isn't too clear on who he is or what he's doing when a beautiful woman walks in and asks him to help. Her brother is missing.
Skylight confers at once with his colleagues: Dennis, Dieter, Lulu, Scarface, and the Average Guy. Then he makes up their mind, and we're off on one of the wildest P.I. novels in years.
You see, Skylight isn't always himself. In fact, he has a number of distinct modes, all of whom are helping him catch the madman who's killing off "documentalists" (being the people who write computer manuals).
But the killer might not be the biggest problem for Skylight. Nor is it liable to be the two obstructing officers representing the finest in law enforcement that Eugene, Oregon, has to offer. No, Skylight's biggest danger is himself.
He has a problem.
A tap-dancing problem, to be exact.
Skylight Howells is a problem dancer. And it's going to take some fancy footwork for this gumshoe to solve the case.