Reverse Lear HOT MONEY

By John Skow

Psychology is kept decently out of sight in most of the 25 horsey thrillers listed on the op-title page of Dick Francis' new entertainment. It is what goes on -- wheels turning in the murky unconscious, and all that -- when one of his characters, caught in some awkwardness, says "er . . ." That unmistakable Francis "er . . ." has got author and readers past many a potentially mushy spot and on to the good part, where the hero is gonked by hired gorillas or injected with horse tranquilizer, and then wakes up, aware that something is wrong, inside a locked steamer trunk.

The author's formula has become too predictable, however, and Hot Money is especially welcome because it offers a variation. No steamer trunks this trip, though as usual there are a few "ers" in the mixture, for flavor. Only the locked room of the mind (and the odd explosion) vex the hero, an amateur steeplechase rider named Ian Pembroke, as he puzzles out who is trying to murder his rich and autocratic father.

There is no lack of candidates. Malcolm Pembroke, a hugely successful gold speculator, has shed several repellent wives. Recently someone knocked off his loathsome fifth, presumably to keep her from inheriting the family bundle. There are nine children, including Ian, and assorted spouses and their children. All are neurotic, vengeful and desperate for money, because Malcolm refuses to sweeten their small trust funds. The author's scheme neatly turns the King Lear plot inside out, observing the wreckage strewn about the heath when an aging tyrant fails to hand over power and wealth to his children.

Ah, but who is playing Goneril and Regan, and who Cordelia? Could this be one of those Orient Express situations in which everyone is the murderer? Everyone has a motive; no question about that. Malcolm goads his whining brood without mercy, taking care to be seen splashing money and champagne in all directions but theirs as he buys racehorses and lolls about the world like a pasha.

Then his house blows up, and he is made to realize that his goading has succeeded. Somebody wants him dead, and may well get his wish. Or hers. Now what? He goes on the run, of course, but flamboyant Malcolm has no talent for keeping his head down. Author Francis is sometimes faulted for wooden characterizations, but here he is believable and chilling as he takes on the pathology of a large, mutually destructive family. The whodunit puzzle at the & book's core is unusually good, and its solution, like those the late Ross Macdonald used to devise, takes into account wounds dealt out and suffered decades before.