Framed

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Unlike the majority of first in series, there wasn't too much evidence of scene setting to be found. Overall, Framed might not be high art, but it is not without merit, and a fun old read for snooker fans and others alike. And the result is a boring read as Frankie propels himself deeper into Soho's underworld without difficulty or conflict. Ronnie's own life story is fascinating, and as a template for a character, Ronnie himself is a great place to start. Frankie was a likeable character and I enjoyed following him across London as he attempted to work out what happened and how his brother turned up on his doorstep covered in blood.

Suffice to say, no plot development throughout the entirety of this book disabuses me of this suspicion.If I didn’t know that Ronnie’s name was attached to it and I’d read it, I think it could have passed as any old mass market paperback.

For no believable reason, this young man suddenly develops the ability to solve complex crimes, read crime scenes, beat up gangsters, breaking and entering without leaving any clue. Starts off gritty, as life in the mean streets of London's SOHO district bring a snooker club owner and a "Family" into tight conflict. We have Frankie's younger brother jack racing to Frankie's snooker hall, covered in blood, tipped off that the police are after him. My interest was piqued so much that as soon as I got in, I had a squiz at the reviews and, seeing them as mostly positive, duly downloaded it. There is everywhere the faint aura of vintage Partridge, nowhere more so than when Frankie visits a Greek thug who has mistreated his deceased mother's flat.Ronnie takes us to 1990s Soho where Frankie James sees his brother Jack arrested for the supposed murder of the fiancée of the son of one of London’s most feared faces. Not the biggest fan of the writing style, lots of repetition with the sentences, but an easy read with a clear plot. One does so hate to be cynical, but when reading potboilers and page-turners set in the past, it does sometimes occur that a period setting is little more than a cheap alternative to dealing with plot holes that arise in the presence of mobile phones. In its place you get a fairly straight-laced and accomplished airport page-turner, with a leaden plot and as few references to snooker as Ronnie's publishers could limit him to. But Frankie’s largely snooker hall-based alcoholism, and the lack of an attempt on Ronnie’s behalf to be any more subtle about the identity of the real protagonist is part of its charm.