40 of 49 people found the following review helpful:
3.0 out of 5 stars
All bets are off, August 29, 2009
Okay, I really need to stop regarding any further offerings from these co-authors as primarily Dick Francis novels. I haven't felt that vintage Francis touch since 1996's TO THE HILT, although UNDER ORDERS, his 2006 thriller and the first written since the passing of his dear wife Mary, did hearken to much of what made him such an engrossing read. But I'm guessing that it's actually his son and co-author Felix who's now doing the heavy lifting. And it's just not the same.
Bookies, apparently, rank so low in the vocational totem pole and are so universally despised that probably even lawyers poke fun at them. 37-year-old Ned Talbot is an independent bookmaker eking out a living in the sport of kings. In the vein of Francis's prototypical protagonists, Ned is unassuming, is self-restrained, is a bit remote. He's a decent bloke even if he's a bookie. And, as per norm to Francis's leading men, it takes sinister external forces to draw him out of his reserved shell.
The plot rapidly thickens. In the opening pages Ned Talbot's father, long believed to be deceased, shows up at the Royal Ascot races to confound Ned. Three hours later, a mugging and a stabbing later, Ned Talbot's father dies again, this time in real. For Ned, this is only the start of shady shenanigans. With his dying breath, his father had warned him: "Be very careful... of everyone." As he delves into the mystery of his father, Ned finds himself steeped in trouble, bewildered by enigmatic electronic devices he unearths and by an inexplicable rash of Internet and cell phone breakdowns at the races. Throw in, too, a rucksack full of money, and frightening characters who begin to shadow Ned.
It can't help but seep into his family life, and Ned's family life is more devastating than others'. As Ned keeps on digging, he learns that much of his early childhood had been based on lies, his father not what was initially assumed of him. And Ned's present personal straits are discouraging. Ned's wife Sophie has long suffered from dementia, and for the past decade she'd been in and out of mental institutions. Visiting times, for Ned, have always been a bittersweet thing. One of the things the authors did really right was to have Ned and Sophie's relationship provide the story's emotional anchor. Ned's dealings with the rest of the cast leave me more or less indifferent, although I felt that several characters were promising but underused: the callous Detective Chief Inspector and the warmer Detective Sergeant Murray. There's also Duggie, a savvy juvenile delinquent and also Ned's prospective new assistant (introduced way late in the book).
I'd assumed that Dick Francis, himself an ex-jockey, had covered just about every angle in British horse racing. But, yeah, the bookies. I don't go to the races at all, and I'm not much of a gambler, so, from that perspective, the authors enlighten on the particulars of sports bookmaking. Before picking up this book, I had no idea what punters were or about the competition that went on between the big gambling conglomerates versus the small-time bookies. But if you're not interested in numbers or gambling, there are passages in EVEN MONEY which may bore or befuddle.
Let me say this: If only EVEN MONEY weren't under the Dick Francis banner, I'd have been more charitable, less critical. But I expect so much of this writer who, with Terry Pratchett and Louis L'Amour, happens to be one of my all-time cherished writers. Francis's books had always been marked with charm and a sly humor, and I've always, always relished his practical thinking man sort of protagonists. I'm not as warmed by Ned Talbot, and I can't help but believe that it's because Felix Francis has taken up the reins and he just doesn't have the knack, the charm, the sly humor, the quiet swagger. Much like the collaboration between Anne McCaffrey and her son Todd tends to leave most readers lukewarm, Dick and Felix Francis do not create an improved brand.
EVEN MONEY is decent enough stuff but in no way does it rival the Francis classics. The narrative pace is sluggish. There's suspense, but not a sense of peril. Ned Talbot is aware that villains may drop in to pay him a visit at home, but he doesn't make one move to seek other lodgings or even arrange for protection. And then the guy moves in family members into his house! The few action sequences left me with that blah feeling. The characters hardly resonate. The ending is too pat. Something's missing.
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21 of 25 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Soul of a Bookie, August 30, 2009
The odds are that mystery and suspense fans will love the latest installment from the word processor of Dick Francis and son. The mellowing influence of Felix Francis is to create sympathetic heroes who are less "take it on the chin and keep going" stoic types than ordinary good and decent men caught up in situations of violence. Ned Talbot is a racetrack bookie only because he grew up assisting his grandfather, the Talbot of "Trust Teddy Talbot".
Ned's an extremely likable guy, who sticks to his wife despite her chronic mental illness and worries that his capable, computer-savvy assistant will leave for a larger firm. The big off-track betting chains are putting pressure on his profits and he sometimes wonders if his unpopular profession is worth it.
Ned grew up believing that his parents were killed in a car crash, so when a man approaches him at the Ascot races, claiming to be his father, Ned does not believe it at first. But the stranger helps him haul all his equipment off the track and as the two of them are walking across the parking lot, an assailant leaps out of nowhere and knocks Ned down.
Ned was starting to believe the man really is his father Peter Talbot, so he is horrified when the assailant stabs his father and disappears. Is this a robbery gone wrong or something to do with his father's mysterious past?
Old-time fans of Francis will recognize the electrifying sound of the starting bell, as another Francis racetrack tale of skulduggery and mayhem is off and running. Ordinary guy Ned Talbot will be an odds-on favorite but the reader will be the real winner.
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5 of 6 people found the following review helpful:
3.0 out of 5 stars
Not the Good Old Days, September 24, 2009
Dick Francis has been joined by his son writing mysteries set at horse tracks in Britain. In "Even Money" one suspects that Felix wrote the book and Dad put his name on the cover.
Dick Francis used to write tight, clean mysteries. Every event had a purpose; either to get to know the main character or to move the plot and mystery along. Not so in this collaboration.
The book is filled with redundant ruminations by Ned Talbot, the bookmaker narrator/hero. Frankly, they began to get tiresome about halfway through. We got the point before page ten that everyone hates bookmakers.
There is also a good portion of the book dedicated to the mental illness of Sophie, Ned's wife, who is hospitalized for manic depression and then comes home. There is no reason at all to have all those pages in the book. Are they there to make nedm more human? to advance the cause of bipolar disorder? They certainly were not included to add anything to the plot.
There is a plot, though; and it is a good one. Ned is met at the races by his father who he was raised to believe had died with his mother, in an automobile accident. His father is not a model a citizen, and when the two are attacked in what looks like a simple bookmaker robbery, the plot is on its way. There are high tech horse shenanigans, betting tricks and beatings and murders along the way. Watching Ned slowly being compelled into the hunt, despite his best efforts to stay uninvolved, is classic Francis. Like the old Francis, one is taught a bit of horse racing esoterica that adds interest to the storyline.
Unfortunately, what could have been a good clean mystery, was bogged down by the rueful redundant cogitations of the narrator and the meaningless side story (not even plot) of his mentally ill wife.
I loved the old Dick Francis and gladly pick one up when I find one I have not yet read. I do not believe I will pick up the next Felix Francis if there is one. This was ok, but just okay.
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