Janet Neel's return to fiction is long over-due. Her Francesca Wilson/John MacLeish series ended (or stalled out) in 2001. The first three books in that series - Death's Bright Angel, Death on Site, and Death of a Partner - are very high on my list of 100 Best Mysteries. In those books, brilliant, spikey, hawk-like Francesca Wilson's expertise in matters financial and political provides both interesting backgrounds replete with vivid characters and the gravitas to balance the exploits of a Scotland Yard lover/husband. Death's Bright Angel gives us music, the textile industry in Thatcher-ridden England, and Francesca's biological and work families. With the exception of her mother, treated by all her children with great love and patronizing kindness, Francesca dwells entirely in the world of men. Her four younger brothers, her colleagues at the Department of Trade and Industry, and her occasional friends are all male. Neel crafts a main character at home in this world, neither a damsel nor an honorary man. Francesca's perspective as a civil servant brings both wit and insight to what might otherwise be bland material. In Death on Site, we learn about the finances of London construction sites and of Everest expeditions, as characters climb Scottish mountains and urban scaffolding. Death of a Partner introduces us to the ins and outs of lobbying firms and takes us back into music, with two of Francesca's singing brothers and her godson in the foreground.
The great strength of these books - besides the well-drawn witty characters who catch our hearts and brains - is the logical link between MacLeish's investigations and Francesca's job. Never, in these first three books, do we feel the force of coincidence bludgeoning us into acceptance. Ironically, this authorial success may have been the death-knell for the following four books in the series. Having joined Francesca and John in matrimony, Neel is obliged to keep both of them gainfully employed on common ground, a hard task to sustain.
As if recognizing the problem, Neel now gives us Jules Carlisle, a newly qualified solicitor with an impeccable middle class present built upon a trailer trash (caravan-dwelling in Brit) past. While Jules' work is primarily in criminal law, her firm specializes in immigrant cases. In Ticket to Ride, we are educated about the immigrant issues in the UK from the varied points of view of Jules, her adoptive mother (a member of the House of Lords), agribusiness, and MI5. Among other excellences, Neel's novel offers a dazzlingly succinct, if trenchantly EU, summary of the run-up to Srbrenica and attendant horrors.
Neel is the rare writer who can quickly define a number of varied characters, staying true to their agendas and speech patterns throughout pages of dialogue and action. The Welsh social worker, the East Anglian gentleman farmer, the Baroness, the Serbian legal eagle, all come across distinctly and credibly. The plot gets moving quickly, only to drag a bit after the first hundred pages. Persevere, for soon, all details in place, Neel ratchets up the tension around the end of the second century and keeps readers breathlessly turning pages, beset with genuine fear for these people we suddenly know so well - all this with exquisitely literate prose, no manipulative italics or clumsy sentence fragments.
Rather than threatening her characters and readers with a made-to-fit evil genius who appears only at the end of the novel, Janet Neel has the gift of writing villains who are wholly likeable, charming and sympathetic, even, until the very moment they reveal themselves to be coldly ruthless.
So read Ticket to Ride, then treat yourself to the first three of Neel's novels.