Dead on Course

There are challengers around for the crown of the late, great Dick Francis, but neither Felix Francis nor AP McCoy can make the weight. Glenis Wilson’s first outing, Dead Certainty, showed flashes of class. But the follow-up, Dead on Course, falls at the last.

It’s a sprightly adventure, and boasts a decent amount of racecourse action. But it falls at the last when it comes to that old chestnut of convincing the reader that an amateur sleuth really has no alternative but to stick their nose in. Jockey Harry Radcliffe could spark a stewards’ enquiry in an empty changing room – and that’s perhaps not surprising given the company he keeps.

Harry is back in the saddle after a long lay-off through injury (which is why he got dragged into murky affairs last time out). Gangster Jake Smith, newly released from prison, knows that Harry found out who murdered his brother. And now he wants the jockey to investigate the death of his sister Jo-Jo – and is quite explicit what will happen if Harry doesn’t co-operate.

Dead on Course canters along at a fair pace, but would benefit from stronger characterisation across the board – particularly the female characters. And the voice consistently feels slightly off; both Harry and his trainer mate Mike are prone to sounding a bit too in touch with their feminine side – and that’s even before we have Harry’s ex-wife and the faith healing!

Harry and Mike seem to spend half the book with their eyes on stalks at potential love interests. Mind you there’s a bad attack of double standards when it comes to Harry and the fragrant Fleur. He seems to think she’s a trollop for wanting to shag in the stables – but he was planning to take her into the horsebox for some finishing line action!

I’m never quite convinced why Harry gets embroiled in these investigations and why the police are way in the distance. Wilson doesn’t play fair with the reader either – there’s too much of the ‘I phoned x and asked him y. He confirmed what I’d thought all along.’ When the reveal comes, I had to go back and double-check who the person was. There’s a clumsy recap at the end for the slow of understanding and the terminally bemused! And if you’re unconvinced by Harry’s ability to get himself into trouble, the last page will have you rolling your eyes.

Dead on Course is a decent enough read for a rainy afternoon. But it isn’t a sleek thoroughbred coasting to victory in one of the Classics. It’s over the jumps at Fakenham on a Wednesday afternoon in January!