An author whom I began to read during my childhood, mainly due to the fact that he was one of my Dad's favorite authors and I simply took his books from the bookshelves. For several decades, I haven't picked up one of his books. However, I was certain that I would still relish his depiction of an England nearly sixty years ago.
I have no specific interest in horses or horse racing (and my Dad didn't either), but that has always been just the background canvas for good old, albeit slightly outdated, crime stories.
I made the decision to commence my rediscovery with his first book from 1962, and it is as excellent as any that I can recall. It's truly a pleasure to revisit his works and be transported back to that era through his vivid descriptions and engaging narratives.
Horse racing is indeed a thrilling yet perilous sport. However, it takes on a whole new level of tragedy when a champion horse meets its untimely demise. The idea of a magnificent creature, which has achieved great feats on the track, being suddenly killed is truly heart-wrenching.