Everybody hates lawyers; except, that is, when they’re writing books. Aside from the obvious Grisham, a host of writers such as Scott Turow and Lisa Scottoline have managed to make a fine living bringing the legal milieu to life in print, and with Next of Kin, David Hosp has staked a claim to a place at the top table of legal thriller writers.

Next of Kin is Hosp’s fifth book, and the fifth appearance of Bostonian lawyer Scott Finn. In this outing, Finn’s troubles begin when he compromises his principles and his reputation in agreeing to represent the son of local mob figure Eamonn McDougal.  Being a lawyer though, his reservations are rooted not in ethical concerns around defending the guilty, but in the likelihood of defeat in the courtroom. However, McDougal ensures Finn’s co-operation by using critical information as a bargaining chip; information relating to the murder of Finn’s previously anonymous birth mother.

There is nothing quite like the joy that comes when realising an author has you hopelessly hooked after the first two pages. Hosp opens with a harrowing scene in a maternity hospital for girls who are, to borrow the old euphemism, ‘in trouble.’ In a handful of pages, Hosp shows skills for creating mood, evoking sympathy, and establishing character. He handles, with a deft touch, subject matter that might feel awkward in the hands of a male writer. Next of Kin is instantly engaging, and remains so throughout.

As a hero, Finn is a textbook legal thriller lead. Thoroughly determined but physically unthreatening, working in shades of ethical grey, he embraces realpolitik when taking on clients, but shows great character in taking in Sally, a parentless young girl from the Southie projects.

The relationship between Finn and Sally is the strong point of the book. Sally is a youthful mirror held up to Finn, himself an underclass kid made good. She is wise well beyond her years, and plausibly so. She jousts with the adult cast intellectually on matters of morality, and seldom comes off worst, but this unlikely wisdom is well underpinned by her back story. She is the single greatest example of Hosp’s ability to take the remarkable and present it as credible.

It is an ability which is demonstrated time and again in a book that features contract killers, long-lost relatives, gangland sociopaths and late-night break-ins, and manages to maintain plausibility at all times. Of course, much of the book’s plausibility is rooted in Boston itself. While New York and Baltimore often hog the true-crime limelight, Boston has excellent credentials in that department, and a smattering of references to ‘Whitey’ Bulger (or Frank Costello, as fans of Scorsese’s ‘The Departed’ may know him) and the Winter Hill Gang are enough to provide Next of Kin with the criminal authenticity it needs.

In terms of plotting, Next of Kin is as assured as the very best of its ilk. Chapters end with cliffhangers, characters’ motivations are teasingly concealed, and the entire piece brims with intrigue. Perhaps the greatest compliment any artist can be paid is that they have made their own craft look easy; in Next of Kin, David Hosp constructs a plot which is absolutely seamless.

Overall, this is a superb thriller; perfectly plotted, entirely believable and filled with pleasingly deep but wieldy characters. Based on the skills on show here, Hosp deserves to become a household name; if he’s as good an attorney as he is an author, he can represent me any time.

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