Rat Race

Air taxis, horse racing, and the sort of trouble that arrives precisely when you were hoping for a quiet life.

Rat Race finds Dick Francis doing what he does best: taking a seemingly respectable corner of the world—in this case aviation brushing up against the racing circuit—and gently revealing that it is held together by nerves, money, and just enough desperation to make things go wrong in interesting ways.

The hero is a pilot, which is convenient, because Francis understands that putting someone in charge of a small aircraft is an excellent way of raising the stakes. Up there, there is very little room for error, and even less for people who would prefer you didn’t reach your destination at all. Down on the ground, matters are no less complicated, as suspicion, rivalry, and the usual assortment of questionable motives begin to circle.

There is a pleasing irony in the title. A “rat race” suggests frantic competition, pointless effort, and a general sense of everyone chasing something they probably shouldn’t. Here, it also happens to involve actual racing people, aviation schedules, and the uncomfortable realisation that some participants are playing for rather higher stakes than prize money.

Francis writes with his usual efficiency: clean prose, tight plotting, and a steady accumulation of tension that does not shout, but never quite lets you relax either. You do not need to know anything about flying or racing to enjoy it. You only need to accept that both are excellent environments for things to go badly wrong.

This good copy, as sold by Crappy Old Books, is ideal for readers who like their thrillers brisk, intelligent, and faintly windswept. A classic slice of Dick Francis, where the real danger is rarely where you first expect it.

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