Dead Heat [Paperback]

After I was "introduced" to Dick Francis a decade ago, I had a great time in the library, going through his many books. They are uniquely Dick Francis... he developed his own sub-genre of mystery writing. His last two, however, were, quite frankly, weak.

Was this the end?

Then came Dead Heat.

It's got that poor guy who gets beat up and in over his head. It's got that bulldog determination to right a wrong, and get the bad guys. And it's got horses and horse racing.

In other words, it is definitely Dick Francis. However, this time it is Dick Francis and son (Felix).

The plot line is intriguing and sharp. Culinary mastermind Max puts together a catered dinner for 200 and most become desperately ill with "food poisoning." To make matters worse (much worse), the very next day, a bomb goes off in Max's next meal event.

What is a restauranteur to do?

Find out "who dun-nit."

And that Max attempts to do, in typical Dick Francis style and grit.

You know, his novels aren't great literature. They are just plain fun. Max is a realistic character, with his own set of trials and tribulations. But he's pissed off that somebody is trying to wreak his restaurant and his good name.

He happens to also fall in love with something attached to a viola.

So, welcome back to Mr. Francis, and welcome forward to son Felix. I know that I speak for other Dick Francis fans in saying we look forward to your next installment!

Firstly, I'm so very glad that Dick Francis is back to writing, and I hope he's got a few (but preferably a lot more) mysteries left in him. In DEAD HEAT, his latest baffler, his normally can't-miss Dick Francis elements are in place: naturally the British horse racing backdrop, the first person narration, the sudden, unexpected bursts of violence set in serene surroundings, and a lead character cut from that reliable English cloth, who is unassuming, reserved, undeterred, and clever but not that clever.

A classic Francis page-turner calls for, among other things, the protagonist not only to be hellaciously roughed up and tossed about but to also stoically endure the doing so. Locally famous chef/restaurateur Max Moreton certainly fits that bill as the pages open with him spending a mortifying, pain-wracked night in the loo, victim to food poisoning ostensibly by his own hands. And that's only the start of Max's bad road. He promptly discovers that that evening's clientele had also suffered from food poisoning. The next day finds his restaurant being shut down awaiting a public health inspection. The day gets even worse as Max then survives a shocking bomb explosion at a privately catered race track event. Now, with allegations made against his livelihood and his life on the line, Max, stubborn cuss that he is, determines to get to the bottom of things. It's not a smart move.

DEAD HEAT is the second book written by Dick Francis after the passing of his beloved Mary and a 6 year hiatus. 2006's Under Orders was good enough and enjoyable enough that it was reasonable to think that the old master was indeed back and without having missed a beat. Now here's DEAD HEAT. And it sucks to say that this book didn't do it for me. Normally, I'm able to read a Dick Francis novel straight thru. With DEAD HEAT, it took me a couple of days, which is darn rare for me with a Francis mystery. Normally, Francis draws you so deeply into his story that you forget you're reading a book. But this one I just couldn't get into. Oh, it did at times evoke vintage Dick Francis, so the old master still did make his presence felt. With DEAD HEAT, he grants co-authorship to his son and now primary researcher Felix, and I can't help but wonder at the heft of younger Francis's contribution and its effect on the overall narrative feel.

Not to say that this isn't an acceptable read. It is. There are several thrilling sequences, which definitely includes the slam bang finale. And if one's any sort of a Dick Francis fan, then DEAD HEAT qualifies as a must read product. But I'm used to a higher standard when it comes to this author, who is one of my favorites. Some things that were a bit cockeyed to me? The romantic arc, I think, came on too sudden and felt so abrupt. I didn't buy into the love story. There's the lack of a noteworthy supporting cast. Usually, quirky and absorbing characters are a strength of Francis's. Not so much here. I initially kept getting Max's kitchen cohorts, Carl and Gary, mixed up. Too, I wish there'd been more focus on Max's relationship with his horse-training brother Toby and Toby's Sally, with whom Max doesn't get along. The dynamics there seemed promising.

In the past, when the protagonist wasn't a jockey or holding down a horse-related gig, Francis would endow him with a on-the-surface hohum vocation which would then become interesting by virtue of his writing skills. Some of his past heroes were a banker, a wine merchant, a physics teacher, a jewelry broker, and a diplomat. This time, I just wasn't drawn into Max's culinary universe and ended up not caring as much for his plight and personal relationships. Ultimately, DEAD HEAT is passable enough reading even if it's lacking that indelible Dick Francis stamp, the flavor a bit off. But I eagerly await Mr. Francis's next mystery in hopes that he dusts off his original recipe. I salivate at the thought.

And another torch passes . . . this book, the newest in a long line of British horse-racing-related mysteries, is co-written by the author and his son, and while a decent-enough read, it doesn't quite have the feel of a "true" Dick Francis mystery. All the elements were there--the decent protagonist, the horse racing connection, the love interest, the unravelling of the hidden plot, the life-and-death confrontation . . . it's all there, and yet, it just didn't have the resonance that I wanted to be there, like his voice was being obscured by another voice--one that knew the tune but didn't have the depth of quality to give the story its due. A perfectly adequate book, and better than no new Dick Francis book at all, but still . . . it just wasn't the same.

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