Australian horse trainer Dan Roke goes undercover in Great Britain as a stable lad to find evidance of doping.
QUOTE:
It took me until late afternoon to find what I wanted, a souped-up 500-cc Norton, four years old and the ex-property of a now one-legged young man who done the ton once too often on the Great North Road. --pg. 80.
Pilot Matt Shore would like to know who blew up his air taxi (while ferrying jockeys, trainers and owners, of course).
QUOTE:
Shabby pin-ups of superhuman mammalian development were stuck to the walls with Sellotape, and a scatter of torn-off patches of paint showed where dozens of others had been stuck before. --pg. 96
BONUS QUOTE:
After I finished the sandwich I unstuck the Sellotape and took all the bosomy ladies down. The thrusting pairs of heavily ringed nipples regard me sorrowfully, like spaniels" eyes. Smiling, I folded them decently over and dropped them in the rubbish bin. --pg. 169
Jockey/photographer Philip Nore finds some interesting photos in a dead track photographer's junk box, an sees what develops. Very good, tricky photography puzzles.
Accountant and amateur jockey Roland Britten keeps getting kidnapped.
QUOTE:
"I had a friend whose boyfriend insisted on taking her sailing," she said. "She said she didn't terribly mind being wet, or cold, or hungry, or seasick, or frightened. She just didn't like them all at once."
Meteoroligist Perry Stuart visits Florida, flies through a hurricane, crashes in the ocean, crashes again on land, meets a good woman, and helps catch the bad guys selling nuclear gook.
Gerard Logan, glassblower, keeps getting attacked by people looking for a videotape his dead jockey friend sent him, except he doesn't HAVE said videotape. Very good!
Lawyer (and amateur jockey) Geoffrey Mason is threatened by awful thug Julian Trent to throw a case. Written with son Felix Francis, who looks like someone I'd enjoying having a drink with.